i'm half-sick of shadows

thenecromerchant: So yeah, I made a thing…

Thu, 14 Feb 2013 20:00:34 -0500

thenecromerchant:

So yeah, I made a thing…

snoozlebee: I felt like drawing some bugs in sickly-sweet...

Wed, 13 Feb 2013 20:15:11 -0500

snoozlebee:

I felt like drawing some bugs in sickly-sweet colors, so valentines happened!

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Thu, 24 Jan 2013 19:02:05 -0500

astronomy-to-zoology: Giraffe Weevil (Trachelophorus...

Thu, 24 Jan 2013 19:01:28 -0500

astronomy-to-zoology:

Giraffe Weevil

(Trachelophorus giraffa)

is a species of weevil found only in Madagascar. The name giraffe obviously comes from the male weevils long neck, this freakishly long neck is an adaptation that assists the male in building a nest and fighting other males. Females on the other hand have a much smaller neck with the neck of the male being 3 times as long as the neck on the female. They are all black with red elytra.

Phylogeny

Animalia-Arthropoda-Insecta-Coloptera-Curculionoidea-Attelabidae-Trachelophorus-giraffa

Source,Source

thepavichelargo started following youW-what do you want? I’m being good, I’m staying...

Tue, 22 Jan 2013 13:58:00 -0500

thepavichelargo started following you

W-what do you want? I’m being good, I’m staying out of the way. I don’t want your father’s stupid company.

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Mon, 21 Jan 2013 15:17:23 -0500

Letter Drabbles

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 19:52:45 -0500

Send me a ✍: For a letter from my muse to yours
Send me a ✈: For a goodbye letter from my muse to yours
Send me a ☁: For a drunk text/letter from my muse to yours
Send me a ☑: For an invitation from my muse to yours
Send me a ✿: For a love letter from my muse to yours
Send me a ♥: For a proposal/confession from my muse to yours

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Sun, 20 Jan 2013 17:39:12 -0500

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Sat, 19 Jan 2013 15:27:12 -0500

ignis-aquae: Emilie Autumn - Rapunzel But when the sun went...

Fri, 18 Jan 2013 19:28:16 -0500

ignis-aquae:

Emilie Autumn - Rapunzel

But when the sun went down
The stars came out
She heard them shout

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Thu, 17 Jan 2013 03:06:00 -0500

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Wed, 16 Jan 2013 21:05:34 -0500

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Wed, 16 Jan 2013 20:08:04 -0500

farewell to all that bound me

Tue, 15 Jan 2013 22:05:24 -0500

The road back to the cemetery couldn’t have been any different than the one they took out of it, to the warehouses, but Shilo knew so little of the city that it all seemed brand new. Again. In her defense, most of the journey out had been spent with eyes locked on the back of GraveRobber’s head, silently counting all the different threads of colour. Synthetic, natural, yarn, shredded ribbon. Even the varying shades of brown and lighter brown, blonde, bleach blonde…

Had she known her own streets, she would have insisted on taking the front way home. It was all well and good to know her way in and out of the graveyard, but that route kept them indoors for most of the trek. She loved her cemetery, true, but tonight, she wanted sky instead of ceiling. Fresh air instead of filtered gas masks. Back in moderately familiar stomping ground, she wished to be figuring out the rusty gate she only knew how to operate from the inside. Marching up her own front steps, instead of sneaking through dirty tunnels and false wall panels. If GraveRobber caught the disappointed look on her face and called her out on it, though, she wouldn’t have known what to tell him.

That she wanted to revel in one of her first and, now, surely, her last chances to be outside? He would laugh. Kid, there will be plenty of time for that. What’s your hurry? she thought to herself, in her own impression of his voice. It almost made her crack a smile, amidst all her serious worries.

For all she thought she had tried, before now, to - once and for all - pour those shitty, little blue beads out of those shitty, little glass bottles and down the drain…she hadn’t, really. One bottle meant nothing, when she knew there was no way to trick herself out of hunting for another, when her chest tightened and she coughed more than she breathed. Even in gathering all the remaining, known containers of it…locking them in a drawer, what good did that do, besides put all her poisons in one, accessible case, for those unavoidable moments of weakness, when she knew of nothing else to save her?

The first thing she wanted to do, she knew, was unlock that drawer and really flush them all, this time. Goodbye, medicine. Could she do it? On her own, no. On her own, she would stare at it and cry and never be able to bring herself to second-guess the poisonous crutch, ever again. And she would be alone and she would die and, now, it would be her fault.

Still, years of her father’s lies stoked the flames of her irrational fears. If she gave up now, she would be willingly forfeiting her life, after a pointless fight to save it. But if she went through with this, if she took GraveRobber’s cue and let it go forever… An attack after missing one dosage used to knock her unconscious until Daddy came to the rescue, with another pill and a scolding. When none of that would come, what if she slipped and never woke up?

Back at the crypt, she swallowed hard. Felt like a cartoonish gulp to her, but, like most of her panic, was probably also still silent. As the heavy door swung closed behind them, her heart gave a mighty thump. She brushed her fingertips over her mother’s portrait, hanging on the sliding door that opened to the tunnel. This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be her unceremonious funeral march. Even accompanied by the only man she might wish to know attended said funeral. After tonight, she had fallen…well, at least under the impression that he would not want to attend, so soon. And if he wanted her to last… She wanted what he wanted.

“So, um.” She allowed GraveRobber to pass into the foyer, so that she could close the door behind her. Dropping her bag by the end table that waited for them, on the house side of the tunnel, she leaned back against the wall, with her hands between her body and the paneling. And, of course, turned sad, saucer-huge eyes up, expectantly, towards him. ”What’s.” What’s first?, she wanted to know. But that was no way to badger a guest, on his…perhaps, first -invited- expedition into the Wallace home.

…But, on that note. What was the proper way to badger a new guest? She bit her lip. ”Can I.” Take your coat? No. He never took that off. ”Um. Do you.” Want anything to eat? No, no, not unless he could make it himself. Rude. ”Want…” Think, think, think, Shilo. There’s plenty to suggest! Bugs to see, fake fireplaces to turn on, shelter to be had from errant Repo Men… ”A glass of water? Or…” And she didn’t quite surprise - but, with the implications, did frighten - herself to offer, “…Anything?”

if i wait too long...

Tue, 15 Jan 2013 21:07:30 -0500

the-necromerchant:

keyboardsamurai:

the-necromerchant:

Shilo, of course, did mistake the meaning. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t so much a mistake as a wish. Could it be done? In the same way she always dreamed of breaking the bars of her cage - and did - could she leap into the black vastness that stretched out before her and her last friend in the world, and swim away? To another island, another world where everything was real and no one had ever heard of the madness of Rotti Largo and the tragedy of the Wallace family?

The Genetic Opera, as she understood it, had been broadcast around the world. But, for all she knew, Sanitarium Island was the whole world. Could anything else be out there? Past the horizon, hidden behind the haze and the deep black water?

Just plunge in.

She would find out. In her heart, all of a sudden, she felt that it could almost be true. Almost be doable.

“Just one long swim,” she murmured, under her breath, under GraveRobber’s words of caution.

Oh. A metaphor. Of course. The water, as beautiful as it appeared, in the middle of the night, with no artificial light or spots to shine down on it, was probably just as poison as that which her dear friend harvested for those obsessed by the cut of the knife. As that which coursed through her own veins and would continue to do so if she didn’t take the plunge.

This time, when she groped, it was physically. For GraveRobber’s arm, with both of her little, shaking hands. In her reverence, she had only caught the gist of the latter half of his ramble. And she didn’t like it. Didn’t like the implications. Who would have had the right to choose her a guardian, now? Her long-dead mother? The jailer who called himself her father? Godmother Mag, too broken by her own experiences to extend a helping hand in Shilo’s direction? None of them. Just as it was her life, the hand she grasped to lead her through it was her choice.

“I won’t leave you,” she exhaled, shakily, curling her fingers into the worn fabric of his cuff. ”I want you here. And I want to see the library. And I want to get better.” Tears threatened to overflow her lower lids. ”I can do it. I just…need your help. Please.”

Watching Shilo’s face as he spoke, GraveRobber registered all the varied cogitations going on, which alternately creased her brow and then curled the corners of her lips. Fearful certainly but also.. hopeful maybe ? But despite his attempt at ending on a lighter note, he saw that her emotions had gotten the better of her. Shilo’s dark eyes were brimming as she focussed back onto his own and grasping his arm, clung to him, as if he was indeed her anchor in the storm of fears and shadows looming within.

Shilo’s little outburst convinced him that now was the right time for this and reaching up with the hand that was not being desperately latched on to, he touched her anxious face, gently, then squeezed her shoulder, and stroked her back reassuringly. He might even have hugged her, perhaps, if they had not been sat awkwardly upon the edge of the roof. GraveRobber was not generally one for showing much physical affection.. hell, he had no-one really before Shilo, that he’d want to lavish it on, but he felt for her, and knew from previous moments of doubt and disquiet that his touch seemed to calm her. The first night after the opera when she’d been distraught, she’d fallen asleep, exhausted finally, in his arms, her head against his chest, as he’d sat propped against her headboard.

Shilo had been a little embarrased when she awoke the next morning, and realised that she wasn’t laying on Rabbit or one of her other old toys. She had sat up too quickly and pulled away, but he’d just smiled lazily down at her, swung his legs off the bed, and gone to make her some tea as if this was all quite normal. The truth was that he’d rather liked the closeness of her small body curled into his, and though he couldn’t make it all go away at least he could be there.

“ Sure kid… like I told you, I’m here for you… I was just waiting for you to know… that this is the only way forward, but you got it now don’t you ? Gotta take the plunge into life sometime, or stay forever in the shadows of your past, and hell kiddo…. that’d be a mighty shame. You’re stronger than I think you know… and I’m laying a bet that you can do this.” he smiled at her confidently, hoping some of it would rub off and bolster her want to change, to emerge from the dusty cocoon.

“ Let’s go then… the Library will wait ‘til another night.. but that’s our next stop on the tour, I promise.”  GraveRobber patted her hands gently, so that she’d let go of him for a moment, then he swung his leg back over the parapet and stood up. He looked down at Shilo and with a little flourish offered her his hand. When she took it he pulled her up and she almost fell against him. GraveRobber caught her and put a steadying arm around her as they headed back across the expanse of roof towards the fire escape.

The journey down was, as he’d expected not so bad, and took about a third of the time it had to get up there. When they reached the bottom he grasped her hand tightly and headed back into the maze of alleys, making for her home.

vera-ist-44: crossover “Up” and “Repo! The Genetic Opera”

Tue, 08 Jan 2013 21:08:37 -0500

vera-ist-44:

crossover “Up” and “Repo! The Genetic Opera”

restless-love-justification: ‘Seventeen’- Repo! The Genetic...

Mon, 07 Jan 2013 22:34:15 -0500

restless-love-justification:

‘Seventeen’- Repo! The Genetic Opera

the-necromerchant: ‘zygaena-kappadokiae’ - another repurposed...

Mon, 07 Jan 2013 22:29:27 -0500

the-necromerchant:

‘zygaena-kappadokiae’ - another repurposed book by Rose Sanderson.

‘Why dream of a life past this fence?’

Mon, 07 Jan 2013 22:29:11 -0500

‘Why dream of a life past this fence?’

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Fri, 04 Jan 2013 14:10:45 -0500