netzach (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abstractart) wrote2023-08-13 03:46 pm
abstractart) wrote2023-08-13 03:46 pm
[city] inbox
USERNAME: unsafety
|
|---|
Ah, Netzach? This is Kaveh - we spoke on the network a little while ago. About art? And, ah, other things.
I have a delivery for you that I can bring over today. Would you be home to receive it, or should I leave it at the door?
I have a delivery for you that I can bring over today. Would you be home to receive it, or should I leave it at the door?
hey, kaveh. i should be here, haven't gone anywhere yet- i'll just stay put.
[whatever time of day it is, it's a safe bet that he's not up and about unless he has a reason to be... at least he's awake.]
[whatever time of day it is, it's a safe bet that he's not up and about unless he has a reason to be... at least he's awake.]
( what is the point of knowing everyone's birthdays in her memory that is still working out how to forget shit if she does not. say something. like a regular person who knows peoples' birthdays does. )
According to this city's calendar, today is your birthday.
Have a good one.
Do not reply to this message.
( yeah that's all please do not ask questions do not reply do not acknowledge do n )
According to this city's calendar, today is your birthday.
Have a good one.
Do not reply to this message.
( yeah that's all please do not ask questions do not reply do not acknowledge do n )
( good evening. )
Horse or donkey?
Horse or donkey?
[ this is for sept i'm just lazy.
anyway there's a knock on the door and she's made sure roland is out, for now, doing something or whatever. did she wait until he left? yeah. because the last thing she wants to hear is "i told you so" and "what did you expect" and that's exactly what she'd get from him.
no, the person she's trooped up here a scarce few hours into what is usually her fair time is netzach, and he'll find her looking fairly chic from her date with gebura, though
with that same over concentrated brightness, even as her smile struggles, a little, to remain curved. ]
Good evening, Netzach! Ehm, I hope I have not caught thee at a bad time, but I was thinking, perhaps, we could drink together?
[ ... though, she isn't much a drinker and especially not of the swill these two have at home. ]
anyway there's a knock on the door and she's made sure roland is out, for now, doing something or whatever. did she wait until he left? yeah. because the last thing she wants to hear is "i told you so" and "what did you expect" and that's exactly what she'd get from him.
no, the person she's trooped up here a scarce few hours into what is usually her fair time is netzach, and he'll find her looking fairly chic from her date with gebura, though
with that same over concentrated brightness, even as her smile struggles, a little, to remain curved. ]
Good evening, Netzach! Ehm, I hope I have not caught thee at a bad time, but I was thinking, perhaps, we could drink together?
[ ... though, she isn't much a drinker and especially not of the swill these two have at home. ]
Don...? Yeah, sure, come in.
[she's come to the right place! his brow furrows a little as he notes the way her smile seems like it's fighting to stay put, but he doesn't say anything for now as he beckons her in, heading over to the kitchen where he keeps a small collection of bottles.]
What do you feel like having?
[she's come to the right place! his brow furrows a little as he notes the way her smile seems like it's fighting to stay put, but he doesn't say anything for now as he beckons her in, heading over to the kitchen where he keeps a small collection of bottles.]
What do you feel like having?
[ It's quiet when Midnight opens the door back to his room to find Netzach spread eagle and crosswise on his bed. Is he face down? Midnight moves, checking to make sure that his sleepy green friend is still breathing, before sighing, removing his belt, and crawling onto the bed with him. Think of it as a very gentle body slam; he just sort of collapses on top, chest to Netzach's back, and flops his head against one of his pillows. ]
Hello. May I sleep here tonight?
Hello. May I sleep here tonight?
[he sure is facedown! he's just, like, sprawled out on midnight's bed, but he's clearly still breathing, and not quite asleep. netzach stirs a little when midnight checks on him, but before he can roll over to face him-]
-oof.
[the kind that's said out loud, not actually winded.]
S'your bed, man... you can just tell me to move.
[that's the point, right, thinks netzach, currently being weighed down by the vampire the bed belongs to,]
-oof.
[the kind that's said out loud, not actually winded.]
S'your bed, man... you can just tell me to move.
[that's the point, right, thinks netzach, currently being weighed down by the vampire the bed belongs to,]
[ date ready set and match, they're in one of the more normal parks for their painting gig since according to the map there's some that aren't graveyards or fucked up like the former fair grounds. the grass is nice. the trees lovely. the day pleasantly cool and as with any occasion she doesn't know how to dress for she asked her roommate and he granted her his wisdom. netzach can say thank you to sinclair for her easier to paint outfit paired with star-printed stockings and
of course
rocinante on her heels. after much debate on anything to do with the rest of her it'd been left as is, but that's fine, she's not nervous, it's just spending time with a friend. who last time she was alone with she kissed. for duty purposes.
that won't happen again, probably. okay. don drew heine last time when he was just chilling on a roof so she's got no idea how models should be otherwise, maybe she'll just. yeah she'll sit by a tree and fidget with the hem of her dress. ]
Do thee... want me to pose a specific way? I can hang down from a tree as well, the blood rush feels rather nice once one swings back up.
of course
rocinante on her heels. after much debate on anything to do with the rest of her it'd been left as is, but that's fine, she's not nervous, it's just spending time with a friend. who last time she was alone with she kissed. for duty purposes.
that won't happen again, probably. okay. don drew heine last time when he was just chilling on a roof so she's got no idea how models should be otherwise, maybe she'll just. yeah she'll sit by a tree and fidget with the hem of her dress. ]
Do thee... want me to pose a specific way? I can hang down from a tree as well, the blood rush feels rather nice once one swings back up.
[oh, the outfit's cute... sinclair is truly doing his best here.
netzach, for his part, is only slightly awkward as he lifts a hand and gives her a little wave; he's settled in the grass with his sketchpad in his lap, art supplies spread out nearby.]
Nah, just... get comfortable. It'll be easier not to move around much that way.
[don't hang upside down for an undetermined amount of time.]
netzach, for his part, is only slightly awkward as he lifts a hand and gives her a little wave; he's settled in the grass with his sketchpad in his lap, art supplies spread out nearby.]
Nah, just... get comfortable. It'll be easier not to move around much that way.
[don't hang upside down for an undetermined amount of time.]
[ In the wake of the truth coming to light, and more to consider, it might be excusable to postpone addressing other less pressing matters. Yesod may have assured Gebura that he would broach the subject of Netzach's freedom to choose where to stay, but the existing routine is admittedly a source of some reassurance. Perhaps it's selfish — precisely a reflection of everything that Yesod meant to stifle — when it must be better for Netzach to distract himself elsewhere entirely, with the possibilities that continue to exist here, and the chance to cultivate a newfound sense of purpose.
Could things change? If they had the means to make sure of it...
These are the same inconclusive routes to tread, over and over. The uncertainty leads to restless days and nights, exacerbating the unconscious mind's ability to take such thoughts and twist them into vivid speculation in one's sleep. It's ridiculous, too, but the relief of tangible evidence to the contrary is the most effective way to counter those dreams.
Yesod can't deny it, as his steps take him through the darkened apartment. Enough light slips in through the windows to navigate the now-familiar space; he can discern and distinguish the shapes that fill it. Stopping beside the couch, he kneels on the floor there, simply for the confirmation that it isn't empty. ]
Could things change? If they had the means to make sure of it...
These are the same inconclusive routes to tread, over and over. The uncertainty leads to restless days and nights, exacerbating the unconscious mind's ability to take such thoughts and twist them into vivid speculation in one's sleep. It's ridiculous, too, but the relief of tangible evidence to the contrary is the most effective way to counter those dreams.
Yesod can't deny it, as his steps take him through the darkened apartment. Enough light slips in through the windows to navigate the now-familiar space; he can discern and distinguish the shapes that fill it. Stopping beside the couch, he kneels on the floor there, simply for the confirmation that it isn't empty. ]
[it isn't empty, no-- there's nowhere else that feels more comfortable to netzach, right now. yesod knows everything, yesod has the same shared history; this is the only place he could think to be, after everything they learned and saw.
yesod will have to dodge more cans and bottles than normal, though, the first obvious sign that he's here but not necessarily well, and if he checks the coffee table... it's hard not to notice the tiny containers of faintly-glowing green liquid. not much of it, but one is still empty.
netzach is, for the moment, unconscious.]
yesod will have to dodge more cans and bottles than normal, though, the first obvious sign that he's here but not necessarily well, and if he checks the coffee table... it's hard not to notice the tiny containers of faintly-glowing green liquid. not much of it, but one is still empty.
netzach is, for the moment, unconscious.]
[ delivered to midnight and netzach's door is a long, wrapped package carefully sealed in layers of brown packaging paper done in kaveh's typical fussy perfectionism. enclosed within is a wooden training sword polished to a wood-grain sheen and carefully balanced for netzach's height and kaveh's best ballpark judgment of netzach's weight. it's been crafted to be on the lighter side, designed for speed rather than heft, equipped with a basic hand-guard. in kaveh's trademark fashion, there are padisarah flowers carved along the pommel.
also enclosed is a small jar of mint-scented hand-made oil with instructions done in kaveh's kshahrewar-standard slanting cursive on how to apply the oil with a microfibre cloth once a week to keep the wood relatively moist. the jar, notably, has had its packaging excised but looks very much like it once held tahini. ]
also enclosed is a small jar of mint-scented hand-made oil with instructions done in kaveh's kshahrewar-standard slanting cursive on how to apply the oil with a microfibre cloth once a week to keep the wood relatively moist. the jar, notably, has had its packaging excised but looks very much like it once held tahini. ]
[ In the span of a scant few weeks, tea and flowers have caused no small amount of upheaval. Once again, the latter's relentless intervention has resulted in revelations that cannot be dismissed, but as before, there is the excuse of matters to attend to that logically take precedence. While Netzach hasn't sustained any obvious injuries, this is not the Library. It's only sensible to confirm it with greater certainty, now that they have the time.
And he should know that his efforts meant something. If the flowers disagree, calling him useless, that should be disregarded. ]
...You're certain that it's nothing more than minor bruising?
[ Regardless, Yesod has a small kit of supplies on hand, placed on the bedside table. Hovering over Netzach, he studies him with a frown — of course, he doesn't have the ability to see through Netzach's clothing, let alone past his skin to assess his body for any hidden damage that might make itself known later. ]
And he should know that his efforts meant something. If the flowers disagree, calling him useless, that should be disregarded. ]
...You're certain that it's nothing more than minor bruising?
[ Regardless, Yesod has a small kit of supplies on hand, placed on the bedside table. Hovering over Netzach, he studies him with a frown — of course, he doesn't have the ability to see through Netzach's clothing, let alone past his skin to assess his body for any hidden damage that might make itself known later. ]
...I think. Doesn't feel like I broke anything.
[there's no way he got out of the confrontation unscathed, even with nothing there no longer at full strength; still, he's managed for it not to be severe, prodding a bit at one arm and wincing lightly at the sting.]
[there's no way he got out of the confrontation unscathed, even with nothing there no longer at full strength; still, he's managed for it not to be severe, prodding a bit at one arm and wincing lightly at the sting.]
Good evening, Netzach. As The Bookstore has been open for some time now, I thought it would be prudent of me to give those who have worked there for at least a month a performance review.
I hope that you will reflect on both the good and the bad, and that you will strive, in your own way, to improve where you can.
Allow me to notate my scoring system.
100: Exemplary. No notes.
90: Above average. Some notes.
80: Average. Notes.
70: Below average. More notes.
60 or under: Nothing but notes.
With regards to your work in the store, you've scored a seventy out of one hundred. While I understand my restrictions on what you are and are not allowed to do does put you at a disadvantage compared to your coworkers, you still loaf around and vibe too much. The Bookstore is a place to share stories from each others' worlds and to archive them, not unlike some of the floors of The Library.
That said, I'm sure seeing a comfortable, friendly environment also makes it easy for people who might otherwise be apprehensive about speaking with someone they don't know to enter and do so. I'm unfamiliar with nervousness in such a way, so I can't be sure, however... Well, perhaps it helps someone out there.
I appreciate your assistance at The Bookstore as well, even if your particular interests and talents would likely be of more use elsewhere... though I believe Don Quixote enjoys having someone else to draw picture books and illustrate stories with her.
( ........... )
I hope that you will reflect on both the good and the bad, and that you will strive, in your own way, to improve where you can.
Allow me to notate my scoring system.
100: Exemplary. No notes.
90: Above average. Some notes.
80: Average. Notes.
70: Below average. More notes.
60 or under: Nothing but notes.
With regards to your work in the store, you've scored a seventy out of one hundred. While I understand my restrictions on what you are and are not allowed to do does put you at a disadvantage compared to your coworkers, you still loaf around and vibe too much. The Bookstore is a place to share stories from each others' worlds and to archive them, not unlike some of the floors of The Library.
That said, I'm sure seeing a comfortable, friendly environment also makes it easy for people who might otherwise be apprehensive about speaking with someone they don't know to enter and do so. I'm unfamiliar with nervousness in such a way, so I can't be sure, however... Well, perhaps it helps someone out there.
I appreciate your assistance at The Bookstore as well, even if your particular interests and talents would likely be of more use elsewhere... though I believe Don Quixote enjoys having someone else to draw picture books and illustrate stories with her.
( ........... )
( ...................
well, there's more she should say, so she hits voice before she can convince herself out of it. )
I'd also— ( pause. a sigh. ) ...Thank you for bringing me to my senses. I'm sorry you had to do it again.
( ... )
I'm sorry I didn't tell you, any of you, the truth. You don't have to forgive me, but I'd like to offer you the same thing I did Roland: to start again, somewhat. It might be more difficult for me and you lot to do so, given... ( another pause. well, you know. ) But I...
( ... this was a mistake. )
Anyway. Give it some thought. You don't need to reply right away.
well, there's more she should say, so she hits voice before she can convince herself out of it. )
I'd also— ( pause. a sigh. ) ...Thank you for bringing me to my senses. I'm sorry you had to do it again.
( ... )
I'm sorry I didn't tell you, any of you, the truth. You don't have to forgive me, but I'd like to offer you the same thing I did Roland: to start again, somewhat. It might be more difficult for me and you lot to do so, given... ( another pause. well, you know. ) But I...
( ... this was a mistake. )
Anyway. Give it some thought. You don't need to reply right away.
[ Beyond the forest's darkness, past iron gates and heavy doors, shelter from the stormy night presents itself in the form of a too-empty manor. Nothing within disturbs the stillness of the building's halls, where only a few lit lamps cast their dim glow a ways down each corridor. The manor's sole visitor tonight and in some time has the freedom to wander about at his leisure, for now. If his boots track mud and rainwater trails across the floors and staircases, these vanish before long.
Inside, tucked into one of the building's wings, Netzach can find a bedchamber for his use. In contrast to the chilly gloom shrouding the rest of the manor, the warmth radiating from the fireplace fills the room's interior. Here, he might catch the faint notes of a distant melody carried through the walls, beneath the unceasing noise of the storm outside.
The bed is untouched, however, despite the waiting change of clothing laid out nearby. One garment is provided as sleepwear, arranged atop the covers, while the others hanging upon a rack offer the option of something clean and dry to replace Netzach's current attire. All of the items seem tailored for his exact measurements.
These are his immediate choices: to accept the manor's hospitality in full, to go to bed as he is, or to explore. ]
Inside, tucked into one of the building's wings, Netzach can find a bedchamber for his use. In contrast to the chilly gloom shrouding the rest of the manor, the warmth radiating from the fireplace fills the room's interior. Here, he might catch the faint notes of a distant melody carried through the walls, beneath the unceasing noise of the storm outside.
The bed is untouched, however, despite the waiting change of clothing laid out nearby. One garment is provided as sleepwear, arranged atop the covers, while the others hanging upon a rack offer the option of something clean and dry to replace Netzach's current attire. All of the items seem tailored for his exact measurements.
These are his immediate choices: to accept the manor's hospitality in full, to go to bed as he is, or to explore. ]
[the most annoying thing about the stories, he thinks, is he truly does feel wet and cold, soaked from the weather outside. he shivers, absolutely shameless in peeling off his drenched clothing, and after taking a minute to dry off and investigate the clothing available to him now...
hm. he doesn't know who he'll find here yet, so dressing for bed and wandering around is a bad idea, not to mention that it's chilly. if he's going to find them, he Will need to wander.
netzach dresses himself slowly, pulling on a fitted pair of pants that contrasts with the loose white shirt and its billowing sleeves, its neckline dipping down below his collarbones. the boots are taller than he'd like, coming almost up to the thigh, and then the final accessory is... what is that, actually?
he works out that it's not really a corset, that it only goes around the waist and laces there in the back, noting in the mirror how it accentuates his slight build. if he laced this thing tight enough, he bets someone could circle both hands around his waist, but he doesn't have any particular interest in sacrificing breathing for fashion. he simply pulls it tight enough to stay, then wanders out, the click of his boots against stone flooring blending with the faint melody he can hear from somewhere.
that has to be it, and so he listens carefully, trying to follow it to its source.]
hm. he doesn't know who he'll find here yet, so dressing for bed and wandering around is a bad idea, not to mention that it's chilly. if he's going to find them, he Will need to wander.
netzach dresses himself slowly, pulling on a fitted pair of pants that contrasts with the loose white shirt and its billowing sleeves, its neckline dipping down below his collarbones. the boots are taller than he'd like, coming almost up to the thigh, and then the final accessory is... what is that, actually?
he works out that it's not really a corset, that it only goes around the waist and laces there in the back, noting in the mirror how it accentuates his slight build. if he laced this thing tight enough, he bets someone could circle both hands around his waist, but he doesn't have any particular interest in sacrificing breathing for fashion. he simply pulls it tight enough to stay, then wanders out, the click of his boots against stone flooring blending with the faint melody he can hear from somewhere.
that has to be it, and so he listens carefully, trying to follow it to its source.]
Merry Christmas and a happy Noel to you! I'm here to announce who you'll be a secret Santa to... Your giftee is: Louis de Pointe du Lac!
Congratulations! Here's a few notes to help you pick or make the perfect present for them.
LIKES: Books, poetry, fine art, candles, crucifixes, soft sweaters.
DISLIKES: Loud things. Being the center of attention.
HOBBIES: Reading, cooking (but not eating), making drinks (but not drinking them), gardening.
Remember we'll be having a Christmas party on the 25th, so if you want to give it to them then or just drop it off by the tree for them to find, well, you can do just that! We'll have a lot of traditional Christmas foods, plus smores, and I'm sure it'll be a wonderful little time for us to gather, sing carols, and be merry this cold winter season!
If you've got any questions, comments, concerns, or desires for clarifications... You got one chance to ask them, because I've got a bunch of people to contact and I don't have a bunch of time to entertain conversation! :)
Congratulations! Here's a few notes to help you pick or make the perfect present for them.
LIKES: Books, poetry, fine art, candles, crucifixes, soft sweaters.
DISLIKES: Loud things. Being the center of attention.
HOBBIES: Reading, cooking (but not eating), making drinks (but not drinking them), gardening.
Remember we'll be having a Christmas party on the 25th, so if you want to give it to them then or just drop it off by the tree for them to find, well, you can do just that! We'll have a lot of traditional Christmas foods, plus smores, and I'm sure it'll be a wonderful little time for us to gather, sing carols, and be merry this cold winter season!
If you've got any questions, comments, concerns, or desires for clarifications... You got one chance to ask them, because I've got a bunch of people to contact and I don't have a bunch of time to entertain conversation! :)
you too huh
kaveh insisted on me taking vacation days and everything
kaveh insisted on me taking vacation days and everything
[ On a suitable evening and morning around Christmas, when Netzach is staying at the apartment, he will receive a green beanbag chair, as well as a compact case that doubles as a palette and a paint storage container, designed to be portable. The box containing the case is wrapped very evenly in green wrapping paper, and this gift includes a piece of card atop it: a simple drawing of one of the Floor of Art's little creatures holding a paintbrush, decorated with a border of a few painted patterns.
Yesod is also sufficiently prepared to present Netzach with soup made to aim for an appropriately cozy winter atmosphere, and he won't get up too early the next day — they can take their time in bed both at night and in the morning. ]
Yesod is also sufficiently prepared to present Netzach with soup made to aim for an appropriately cozy winter atmosphere, and he won't get up too early the next day — they can take their time in bed both at night and in the morning. ]
[yesod, in turn, has a purple beanbag chair; netzach has also wrapped up a new notebook for him, with a hand-painted cover carefully sealed to protect the art. it depicts his stuffed snake coiled around netzach's little green stuffed creature; they're outside, left together in the grass, with the stars visible overhead.
there's also a circle of slightly stretchy green fabric, sized to fit yesod's wrist. instead of a bracelet, he's opted for something that won't get in the way or dangle and be caught on anything, but that can be worn where yesod can see it every so often.
also i lied bc i forgot the other thing i thought of. yesod also gets a soft knit scarf... he doesn't need to keep his neck covered for other reasons now, but it is cold. it's oversized so that it's easy to wrap up in, and he's already put it in with his own laundry before giving it to yesod; it smells like all their clothes do already.]
there's also a circle of slightly stretchy green fabric, sized to fit yesod's wrist. instead of a bracelet, he's opted for something that won't get in the way or dangle and be caught on anything, but that can be worn where yesod can see it every so often.
also i lied bc i forgot the other thing i thought of. yesod also gets a soft knit scarf... he doesn't need to keep his neck covered for other reasons now, but it is cold. it's oversized so that it's easy to wrap up in, and he's already put it in with his own laundry before giving it to yesod; it smells like all their clothes do already.]
Edited 2023-12-26 08:04 (UTC)
[ at netzach's door sits a handwoven basket holding four paper-wrapped gifts blooming profusely from their seams with long-stemmed paper flowers in dizzying greens and reds and oranges splayed along the painted watercolours of a rising, winter-morning dawn pale with still-visible pinpricks of mourning stars.
in the large, square flat package is a furisode dyed the colours of snow melting against the gentle reach of a tenable spring. hand-painted with steady heads across the sleeves is the rising, winged flight of a pale, red-crowned crane over a traditional shochikubai, long-stalked kikyo and stretching sprigs of ume shifting in the wake of its joyous grace. there are those that would argue its sky bluish-green, and those that would argue it greenish-blue, but all would agree that the obi that carefully pulls together the fragmented ends of two, unending threads is the bloom of sharp pink flowers along golden seams. slipped into a fold is a card in kaveh's sweeping, printing-press precise handwriting detailing how to maintain and keep clean the garment, and not to machine-wash it under any circumstances lest the paint washes off.
in the small, rectangular package is a pair of wooden geta painstakingly carved and adorned with five-petaled cloth flowers in alternating pink and gold.
in the smallest package of the four is a wooden hairstick laden with long, wisteria flowers, the slow fade of purple and pink stem from a single, hanging bud of green.
in the last, hardcover package comes this: first, the scent of old paper and gentle, washed watercolour. then comes the texture of a gap in a tale, paper fading into a kaleidoscope of shapes and seams and intention-made-form. the tunnel book begins with a tree. of course it does, because it's through the love of that giving tree that the cut-out of the young boy grows from child to man. kaveh details the story with love, each frame of the tale narrated from long, slanting precision of his printing-press handwriting, each word like a blessing. it ends like this: the tree, who has given away all of itself, is happy.
the note goes like this: ]
To my dearest Netzach;
When I came across this tale in the bookstore, my first thought was to wonder what it is you would see with your eyes: would you, too, think that the tree is happy? Or would you have taken the young child by the hands and shaken your head, and taught the child to only receive from the tree what it would be willing to give back? Could you accept the tree being happy? Should the child?
I've always believed that ought to be beautiful; I've always believed that art ought to provoke thought. As I was carving out the space in paper for this tale, I wondered if you would take it back with you to your City, if there is a place in your world for the happiness of a single tree, no matter what shape it takes on.
Netzach, meeting you has been a miracle.
May your coming year be as sweet as watermelon, and as fruitful as pomegranates.
With love,
Kaveh
in the large, square flat package is a furisode dyed the colours of snow melting against the gentle reach of a tenable spring. hand-painted with steady heads across the sleeves is the rising, winged flight of a pale, red-crowned crane over a traditional shochikubai, long-stalked kikyo and stretching sprigs of ume shifting in the wake of its joyous grace. there are those that would argue its sky bluish-green, and those that would argue it greenish-blue, but all would agree that the obi that carefully pulls together the fragmented ends of two, unending threads is the bloom of sharp pink flowers along golden seams. slipped into a fold is a card in kaveh's sweeping, printing-press precise handwriting detailing how to maintain and keep clean the garment, and not to machine-wash it under any circumstances lest the paint washes off.
in the small, rectangular package is a pair of wooden geta painstakingly carved and adorned with five-petaled cloth flowers in alternating pink and gold.
in the smallest package of the four is a wooden hairstick laden with long, wisteria flowers, the slow fade of purple and pink stem from a single, hanging bud of green.
in the last, hardcover package comes this: first, the scent of old paper and gentle, washed watercolour. then comes the texture of a gap in a tale, paper fading into a kaleidoscope of shapes and seams and intention-made-form. the tunnel book begins with a tree. of course it does, because it's through the love of that giving tree that the cut-out of the young boy grows from child to man. kaveh details the story with love, each frame of the tale narrated from long, slanting precision of his printing-press handwriting, each word like a blessing. it ends like this: the tree, who has given away all of itself, is happy.
the note goes like this: ]
To my dearest Netzach;
When I came across this tale in the bookstore, my first thought was to wonder what it is you would see with your eyes: would you, too, think that the tree is happy? Or would you have taken the young child by the hands and shaken your head, and taught the child to only receive from the tree what it would be willing to give back? Could you accept the tree being happy? Should the child?
I've always believed that ought to be beautiful; I've always believed that art ought to provoke thought. As I was carving out the space in paper for this tale, I wondered if you would take it back with you to your City, if there is a place in your world for the happiness of a single tree, no matter what shape it takes on.
Netzach, meeting you has been a miracle.
May your coming year be as sweet as watermelon, and as fruitful as pomegranates.
With love,
Kaveh
[Unfortunately for literally everyone, Ghost's idea of what makes a good gift is...sometimes. It's. It's really questionable. And often brightly-colored. And almost always ridiculously tacky.
Case in point: the box that Netzach receives contains a snap bracelet with the head of a snake in whatever hideous sequin colors you feel is most befittingly atrocious. Assuming that doesn't make Netzach immediately chuck the entire thing into the garbage, however, he'll likely discover that there's a note beneath:
I set out here to write a poem
(The sort that you might keep at home
And maybe look at once a while,
Ideally, to make you smile).
It isn't much; I know that's true.
It's challenging; my thoughts of you
Are varied, brilliant sentiments
In colors bright and bold, intense.
But overall, you know what's hardest?
Finding aught to rhyme with "artist".
Merry Christmas! 🎄]
Case in point: the box that Netzach receives contains a snap bracelet with the head of a snake in whatever hideous sequin colors you feel is most befittingly atrocious. Assuming that doesn't make Netzach immediately chuck the entire thing into the garbage, however, he'll likely discover that there's a note beneath:
(The sort that you might keep at home
And maybe look at once a while,
Ideally, to make you smile).
It isn't much; I know that's true.
It's challenging; my thoughts of you
Are varied, brilliant sentiments
In colors bright and bold, intense.
But overall, you know what's hardest?
Finding aught to rhyme with "artist".
Merry Christmas! 🎄]
did anybody rver yelp you you!te like
reaply pretty
and greeg
it's a good look ob you
reaply pretty
and greeg
it's a good look ob you
anyone ever tell you that you can't spell when you're drunk?
i guess i've heard that once or twice. good thing it works, it's just what i ended up with.
i guess i've heard that once or twice. good thing it works, it's just what i ended up with.
Edited 2024-01-04 06:48 (UTC)
[ It's funny — Yesod himself has generally avoided referring to the apartment that he'd been using as his in any way. Netzach often called it "your place" when speaking of it, and Yesod wondered whether it was deliberate each time, the remnants of Netzach's concerns that he would become an imposition, despite an ongoing routine in that shared space and even after Roland's disappearance led him to return with his belongings. Yesod has never described that apartment as home, either, though his thoughts also wandered to the terms that Netzach might use. Did he think of it as going home or going back to Yesod's place, maintaining that distinction?
This new space, however, was purposely created for their use and that of their colleagues. It's the product of Netzach's initial idea and the wishes behind it, and Kaveh's extensive work to actualize that vision. This city is transient in too many ways, and the truth of their situation has been encroaching upon their existence here, but even so, it feels momentous to take steps towards settling into a bedroom specifically intended to be theirs, to see it reflect precisely that.
The thought that went into every part of the entire apartment is evident from the ceiling to the interior of each individual room.
There are items left to tidy away, but Yesod pauses to take in the picture before him in its current form: Netzach at its center, their pets already content to curl up in their enclosures. The little green plush creature and La Víbria de Tierra Temblorosa occupy a spot together.
It's another novel experience, unfamiliar but pleasant.
Please excuse Yesod for just standing around to watch for some moments longer, abruptly, as if he's forgotten his box of clothing to unpack even as he holds a shirt to re-fold in his hands. ]
This new space, however, was purposely created for their use and that of their colleagues. It's the product of Netzach's initial idea and the wishes behind it, and Kaveh's extensive work to actualize that vision. This city is transient in too many ways, and the truth of their situation has been encroaching upon their existence here, but even so, it feels momentous to take steps towards settling into a bedroom specifically intended to be theirs, to see it reflect precisely that.
The thought that went into every part of the entire apartment is evident from the ceiling to the interior of each individual room.
There are items left to tidy away, but Yesod pauses to take in the picture before him in its current form: Netzach at its center, their pets already content to curl up in their enclosures. The little green plush creature and La Víbria de Tierra Temblorosa occupy a spot together.
It's another novel experience, unfamiliar but pleasant.
Please excuse Yesod for just standing around to watch for some moments longer, abruptly, as if he's forgotten his box of clothing to unpack even as he holds a shirt to re-fold in his hands. ]
[netzach, for his part, is stretched out on their bed (their bed, he keeps thinking), resting there after a long day of bringing things from one apartment to the other. at least the furniture was all in place already, but effort is effort, and work is always anathema to what he really wants to do.
rather-- work he doesn't enjoy is. he's been learning that here.
there may be items left to tidy away, but he's left yesod to it, figuring he probably cares more about where things go than netzach does... so when yesod pauses with that shirt in his hands, just looking, netzach is looking back. head propped in one hand, expression fond.]
...forgot where you want that one to go?
rather-- work he doesn't enjoy is. he's been learning that here.
there may be items left to tidy away, but he's left yesod to it, figuring he probably cares more about where things go than netzach does... so when yesod pauses with that shirt in his hands, just looking, netzach is looking back. head propped in one hand, expression fond.]
...forgot where you want that one to go?
[ The warmth of Netzach's presence in their bed, Netzach alive and breathing, tempts Yesod to linger there. It would have been easy enough to give in with fewer reservations, days ago, after the thoughts that Netzach's mask revealed, as well as their conversation regarding his own. He only means to monitor Netzach's condition, he reasons — his healing wound, confirmation that there are no signs of infection. He wants to be certain that Netzach's fever before that wasn't the beginning of more, either.
For now, he brushes Netzach's bangs to one side, placing his fingers against Netzach's brow. His hand follows the curve of Netzach's cheek from there, no more than that. Netzach should continue to rest, for one, before they proceed to his bandages and further. ]
For now, he brushes Netzach's bangs to one side, placing his fingers against Netzach's brow. His hand follows the curve of Netzach's cheek from there, no more than that. Netzach should continue to rest, for one, before they proceed to his bandages and further. ]
[he wakes more easily than he normally does. maybe he remains a bit on edge after being unexpectedly attacked, or maybe he just isn't sleeping as deeply; either way, his eyes blink blearily open when Yesod's hand brushes over his cheek, with a soft, confused sounding mumble.]
Yesod...? Morning already?
Yesod...? Morning already?
[ It's a mess where he is and he's dealing with quite a bit, but he still spares some time to fire a text over to Netzach, because he... is an automaton like the Wanderer and he is curious to know more about the incident. (it's not because he's concerned for Netzach, because he already likes him or anything, no sir) ]
Was the wound deep?
[ Yes, absolutely apropos of nothing. He's just going to start the conversation like this. ]
Was the wound deep?
[ Yes, absolutely apropos of nothing. He's just going to start the conversation like this. ]
i guess kaveh said something, huh?
it was. got me all the way through the shoulder. nothing vital though.
it was. got me all the way through the shoulder. nothing vital though.
[Netzach is on recovery. Alhaitham hasn't seen him around the studio, understandably, but it's more difficult to simply go to his and Yesod's apartment when he's trying to evade Midnight's presence.]
So have you been honest yet with Yesod about the extent of danger you were in by eating that liver?
[Doing this by text is a horrible idea, however.]
So have you been honest yet with Yesod about the extent of danger you were in by eating that liver?
[Doing this by text is a horrible idea, however.]
yeah hi to you too my shoulder is fine if you were wondering
he knows it was a risk and that i could've contracted something bad from it. the details of it aren't mine to tell him, man.
he knows it was a risk and that i could've contracted something bad from it. the details of it aren't mine to tell him, man.
Netzach, I have something to show you.
[ The announcement comes when the two of them are in their room, but this time, the items that Yesod sets down on the bedside table are genuinely unsettling. So much so, in fact, that certain other video footage featuring them is shelved for now, thoughts to examine another day, much like the rest of the convention center collection. These take precedence for materializing with what can't be coincidental timing, in a location where other leaked information was already discovered — and because of their contents.
The label bearing Netzach's name immediately stands out. Plenty within the file will as well. ]
...I must confess, I've been preoccupied with these since the recent meeting.
[ Is the sudden appearance of these particular documents deliberate, then? ]
[ The announcement comes when the two of them are in their room, but this time, the items that Yesod sets down on the bedside table are genuinely unsettling. So much so, in fact, that certain other video footage featuring them is shelved for now, thoughts to examine another day, much like the rest of the convention center collection. These take precedence for materializing with what can't be coincidental timing, in a location where other leaked information was already discovered — and because of their contents.
The label bearing Netzach's name immediately stands out. Plenty within the file will as well. ]
...I must confess, I've been preoccupied with these since the recent meeting.
[ Is the sudden appearance of these particular documents deliberate, then? ]
Something to show me...?
[he leans over to look at the items, the files--
...the label with his name. he's silent for a moment, looking at it.]
Yesod-- what's it say?
[he leans over to look at the items, the files--
...the label with his name. he's silent for a moment, looking at it.]
Yesod-- what's it say?
Page 1 of 2