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Jul. 31st, 2012 at 4:24 PM
[JOURNAL]
I heard an interesting joke the other day. Interested?
I heard an interesting joke the other day. Interested?
Three decades ago, London was stolen by bats. Dragged deep into the earth by the Echo Bazaar. The sun is gone. All we have is the gas-light of Mr Fires. But Londoners can get used to anything.
It's quiet down here with the devils and the darkness and the mushroom wine. It's Peaceful.
But then you arrived.
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Syndicate
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Jul. 31st, 2012
Jun. 19th, 2012
Jun. 19th, 2012 at 7:14 PM
[JOURNAL]
Sober Dress? [Questions first. Context later.]
Sober Dress? [Questions first. Context later.]
Jun. 15th, 2012
Jun. 15th, 2012 at 4:02 PM
[JOURNAL]
[Ink spreads across the page, bleeding into the paper in thick, elegant lines. Reina's hand is steady as she draws, capturing not shapes but the space between shapes. The curve of an arm appears, the line along a woman's hip and waist and breast. She adds more figures to the composition - a scandalous tangle of limbs and bodies. There are a few men in the crowd, but not many.
Words appear under the image several minutes later, when she has captured the whole of the orgy with the least amount of lines possible.]
I have taken your advice into consideration. The tattoo parlors and honey dens are... most informative.
[Ink spreads across the page, bleeding into the paper in thick, elegant lines. Reina's hand is steady as she draws, capturing not shapes but the space between shapes. The curve of an arm appears, the line along a woman's hip and waist and breast. She adds more figures to the composition - a scandalous tangle of limbs and bodies. There are a few men in the crowd, but not many.
Words appear under the image several minutes later, when she has captured the whole of the orgy with the least amount of lines possible.]
I have taken your advice into consideration. The tattoo parlors and honey dens are... most informative.
Jun. 14th, 2012
Jun. 14th, 2012 at 8:09 PM
[JOURNAL]
[The hastily scrawled letters appear shortly after two o'clock.] Are you awake? [There is nothing firm in the shaky letters she pens. Her hand wobbles as she writes, a sloppy rendition of her elegant penmanship from earlier. As the writing appears in her journal, the page crinkles in two small spots on opposite sides of the page. First the left, then the right.]
[The hastily scrawled letters appear shortly after two o'clock.] Are you awake? [There is nothing firm in the shaky letters she pens. Her hand wobbles as she writes, a sloppy rendition of her elegant penmanship from earlier. As the writing appears in her journal, the page crinkles in two small spots on opposite sides of the page. First the left, then the right.]
Jun. 14th, 2012 at 9:35 AM
[DELIVERY]
[A small, dirt smudged urchin has been observing her for a greater portion of the day, only taking the courage to approach her when he’s sure she’ll answer to the name he’s been given. He’s been sent to deliver a package to Reina and only her, and once satisfied he has done his job he hands her the pouch and runs off.
Inside the back is a small journal, a strange inscription on the front that isn’t any language taught in the world above. The inside cover bears a small inscription, black ink and a masculine slant to the penmanship.]
[A small, dirt smudged urchin has been observing her for a greater portion of the day, only taking the courage to approach her when he’s sure she’ll answer to the name he’s been given. He’s been sent to deliver a package to Reina and only her, and once satisfied he has done his job he hands her the pouch and runs off.
Inside the back is a small journal, a strange inscription on the front that isn’t any language taught in the world above. The inside cover bears a small inscription, black ink and a masculine slant to the penmanship.]
For a more swift correspondence.[The first few pages bear similar writing, this time in English though the words and thoughts are disjointed and hardly make any sense without context. Occasionally there is a sketch or three, crude and messy and quick. The Wheeled Eye. The Broken Sun. The Child-and-Chariot. The Singer of Roses. At first the artist is trying to convey or copy something but rarely takes the time to turn the drawings into art, though in later drawings, more care is taken to try and create something pleasing. Finally, three pages in, one message accompanies the last sketching attempt, better than the previous ones, but nothing anyone would pay good money for.]
- B
Thoughts?
Jun. 13th, 2012
Jun. 13th, 2012 at 11:14 AM
Jun. 6th, 2012
Jun. 6th, 2012 at 9:31 PM
Jun. 6th, 2012 at 9:11 PM
Jun. 5th, 2012
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:37 PM
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:32 PM
THIGNS
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:32 PM
YESSS WE ARE LINKED
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:32 PM
and ij is kkind of a butt
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:31 PM
waaaaaiting for confirmation emails.
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:31 PM
a huge weirdo
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:31 PM
because i'm w aeirdo
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:30 PM
and empty pages
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:30 PM
palceholds
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:30 PM
TESTINGERING
Jun. 5th, 2012 at 2:30 PM