moriors

[moriors]

doing the responsible thing and moving gio to @sanctos for now so i stop neglecting him HLDSJKFHSLJK

[moriors]

*

words by @starpeace

[moriors]

when  was  the  last  time  he'd  done  a  puzzle  ?       giovanni  hadn't  meant  to  stare———in  fact  ,   its  uncharacteristic  for  him  ,   but  the  puzzle  had  struck  something  within  him  ,   old  memories  he'd  long  suppressed  rising  to  the  surface.   he's  so  caught  up  in  his  own  death  ,   he  doesn't  remember  the  last  puzzle  he  put  together.   has  he  done  any  on  his  own  ,   or  has  a  hundred  years  past———was  the  last  puzzle  he  did  a  joint  effort  with  his  son  ,   done  late  by  firelight  ?   has  it  been  so  long  ?   and  why  does  it  matter  ? 

the  stranger  speaks  to  him  ,   and  giovanni  remembers  himself  ,   returns  to  himself.   it  doesn't  matter.   nothing  matters  but  the  end———a  puzzle  is  a  trivial  thing  ,   a  distraction  from  death.   he  blinks.             ❛❛   well  enough  ,   i  suppose.   i  have  not  done  one  in  a  long  time.   ❜❜            now  that  he  knows  what  its  meant  to  be  ,   he  can  see  the  vague  ideas  of  a  lighthouse  taking  shape.   eyes  narrow  at  the  stranger  ,   and  he  shakes  his  head.   he's  most  likely  made  himself  look  very  odd.            ❛❛   forgive  me  ,   i  was  trying  to  discern  what  it  might  be.   and  i  have  never  seen  someone  doing  a  puzzle  in  a  library.   ❜❜

He liked coming to this library, especially when he wanted to get out of the house even just for a little bit. He also fully knows bringing a puzzle to a library is odd, but it wasn't too complicated, just a 300 piece puzzle. The library was quiet, mostly, and people didn't bother him, mostly. He did get some weird looks, but that was normal for him. Is that fucking Conor Quinn? Oh my god, I love that book, he hears someone whisper, and it makes him want to focus on his puzzle even more.

He notices @moriors looking at him, though it's not in a crazed recognition way — it's in a spacey outey way, not in the way that the girls from earlier had done it. “ It's gonna be a lighthouse. ” He says quietly to the other, picking up a puzzle piece and gently tapping it against the wooden surface. “ In a few hours, anyway. Do you like puzzles? ”

[moriors]

i want to throw gio at more of u ... dont u guys want a depressed goth grump in ur lives...

[moriors]

ANEURIN BARNARD as ALEX TIMESTALKER (2024) Dir. Alice Lowe

[moriors]

ah  ,     and  yet  again  ,     giovanni  blinks  blankly  at  the  librarian  ,     this  time  letting  his  brows  furrow———a  rare  show  of  emotion  ,     taking  the  form  of  confusion.           ❛❛  have  i  ?     i  am  not  at  work.     i  do  not  have  a  lunch  break———i  simply eat  lunch. and i am fine.  ❜❜           this  may  be  the  strangest  encounter  giovanni  has  had  in  a  long  time:     and  he's  had  many  ,     many  strange  encounters.     libraries  do  attract  that  sort  ,     though  ,     THE UNUSUAL.     he's  here  himself  ,     after  all. 

he  sighs  ,     tired  of  this  interaction.     usually  ,     he's  good  at  ducking  behind  shelves  ,     making  himself  look  unapproachable———apparently  not  today.     its  surprising  that  this  caleb  hasn't  gotten  the  hint  ,     yet.           ❛❛  i  am  not  looking  for  anything  in  particular.     just  something  i  have  not  read  already  ,     which  thus  far  has  been  a  fruitless  search.  ❜❜

“ Me? I'm fine. Are you fine? ” He can already hear his boss talking to him about his attitude with patrons, but he pushes it to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn't know why he feels so curious about this man, or why he acts so hostile. Perhaps after meeting Helena, he's on edge. What if this guy's a ghost too? Figuring out that she was a ghost was hard enough, doing it a second time would surely be easier, right?

Lunch break? Long day? Caleb squints, hands on his hips. “ Have you had your lunch break? Today's been a perfectly normal length, thank you very much. ” He forces himself to breathe, letting his arms fall slack at his side. Yes, I've had a long day but in the way that I'm on edge because I've seen some shit I didn't think was even real until last week. “ What's the name of the book you're looking for? I'll find it for you. ”

[moriors]

guys. everybody calm down

[moriors]

WAKE UP GIOVANNI NATION

[moriors]

i can ACTUALLY watch that movie today unlike the last time i posted abt it so prepare for gio spam today fr this time bc i know laying eyes on him is going to make me insane

[moriors]

❛❛  i  was  not  aware  there  was  anything  to  break  up.  ❜❜           giovanni  is  telling  the  truth  ,     but  he  isn't  blind  to  how  much  it  feels  like  putting  his  foot  in  his  mouth.      some  people  don't  want  to  hear  blatant  honesty  ,     he's  learned———but  that  won't  stop  him  from  offering  it.     and  in  some  small  way  ,     JAMESON DOES HAVE A POINT.     it  was  a  little  rude.           ❛❛  i  do  suppose  i  could  have  said  goodbye  ,     though  ,     i  will  give  you  that.     i  simply  prefer  not  to  give  anyone  the  chance  to  ask  me  to  stay  ,     because  then  it  becomes  a  whole  mess.  ❜❜           and  takes  too  long———that  part  he'll  leave  out. 

he  steps  into  the  kitchen  ,     retrieves  his  cigarettes  and  hoists  himself  up  onto  the  counter  to  sit  in  their  place  ,     lighting  one  and  offering  out  the  lighter  to  jameson.           ❛❛  no  ,     it  has  been  the  same  as  usual.  ❜❜           it  almost  annoys  him  to  say  so———NO PROGRESS  ,     NO NOTHING.     just  years  and  years  of  living  ,     not  being  able  to  do  a  damn  thing  about  it.     he  takes  a  long  drag  ,     speaks  on  the  exhale.           ❛❛  there  is  not  much  to  report  ,     honestly.     still  alive  ,     still  trying  to  figure  out  how  not  to  be.     no  luck.     and  i  have  discovered  dunkin  donuts  ,     i  enjoy  their  frozen  coffee  with  a  mocha  swirl.     so  that  is  an  improvement  ,     i  think.     and you  seem  to  be  doing  well  for  yourself ?  ❜❜

don't turn around and go ballistic on him for leaving. don't be an uncool loser about it. even though jameson hadn't expected it, and is an absolute champion at holding a grudge, especially now that he'd had a few more decades of practice. the live and let live attitude, all that easy detachment he bandies around? save that for people who don't pick up and go without a word. but he keeps it under wraps, for now. or, at least, he keeps his voice down when he says, " yeah, i knew you'd leave at some point. the not saying goodbye part was a piece - of - shit move though. at least break up with me before ghosting me, you know? " a cringing smile, one that shows his vampire canines, as he takes of his lanyard and tosses it in the halloween - themed bowl sitting near the door.

he finds his way into the kitchen, which is more or less an extension of the rest of the space : the open concept design that was apparently fashionable. " let's let bygones be bygones for ten minutes, though. here, " he puts giovanni's cigarettes on the counter like a lure, but not before filching one himself and tucking it behind his ear. and for the seething beneath his skin, that had consumed him below, he's . .. cordial. light - hearted, even ---- knife sharpness concealed beneath the charismatic tone. " i'd offer you a drink, but ---- well. you know how it is. sit down. make yourself comfortable. tell me what you've been up to, if you haven't just been moping around pretending not to be sad. how's life after abandoning me? empty and pointless? terrible without me at your side? "

[moriors]

oh  ,     jesus  christ.     now  the  angry  librarian  is  laughing———perhaps  another  death  is  on  giovanni's  horizon  after  all.     it  would  be  the  first  time  he's  ever  died  in  a  library  ,     anyways  ,     so  perhaps  that  will  be  almost  interesting.     he  glares  his  confusion  at  the  other  ,     head  slightly  tilted;     but  then  the  conversation  seems  to  switch  up  ,     which  only  confuses  him  more. 

❛❛  um   .  .  .   no.  ❜❜           the  double-meaning  here  isn't  lost  on  him  ,     and  a  hundred  years  ago  he  may  have  found  it  funny.     actually  ,     everything  i  am  interested  in  has  to  do  with  death———self  murder  ,     if  you  will.     he  blinks  a  few  times  ,     processing  the  past  minute  ,     and  shakes  his  head.           ❛❛  are  you  well  ,     signore  caleb  ?     perhaps  it  is  time  for  your  lunch  break  ,     or  it  has  been  a  long  day  ?  ❜❜           actually  ,     HE DOESN'T CARE.     but  maybe  it'll  make  the  librarian  go  away.

Right. Pete the Cat has all but folded in half, and Caleb forces himself to exhale. Especially with that last comment? Murder over a library book? It makes him laugh. Which, in turn, probably makes him look like a total psycho to this patron. Great.

“ I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m not in the business of murdering anyone. ” He shakes his head, forcing himself to hold back a scoff. “ My name is Caleb, I work here. Can I help you find anything? Preferably without murderous intent? ”

[moriors]

its  too  quiet  now.     hours  ago  ,     the  house  had  been  filled  with  terrible  noise———the  wheezing  ,     the  coughing  ,     the  chugging  and  refilling  of  too  many  glasses  of  water.     nothing  could  stop  it.     nothing  seemed  to  ease  martino  in  those  final  moments  ,     not  even  when  his  father's  arms  were  around  him  ,     not  even  when  the  wheezing  stopped.     he'd  been  begging  ,     in  those  final  moments.     i  don't  want  to  die.     i  don't  want  to  leave  you  two.     it  was  terrible  to  hear———but  now  the  silence  is  more  terrible  still.

giovanni  doesn't  know  how  long  its  been  since  he  moved———SINCE HIS SON DIED.     he  sat  himself  down  on  a  couch  with  his  head  in  his  hands  ,     and  hasn't  moved  a  muscle.     has  he  breathed  ,     even  ,     or  did  he  finally  die  with  martino  ?     if  he  had  ,     surely  his  chest  wouldn't  hurt  so  terribly;     his  damned  heart  ,     wretched  thing  ,     it  wouldn't  even  be  beating.     he  wants  to  die  again.     he  needs  to , craves it like a vice———and  god  ,     if  carving  the  drumming  thing  from  his  chest  in  its  misery  won't  do  it  ,     he  doesn't  know  what  will.     it  needs  to  stop.     he  needs  it  to  stop. perhaps a bloody sacrifice will give him what he wants , his own self at the altar of god.

but  he  looks  up  ,     finally  moves  to  make  work  of  another  demise———and  sylvain  is  still  there.     have  they  both  been  here  ,   unmoving  ,     while  the  sun  has  taken the moon's place ?     EVERYTHING ACHES.     GIOVANNI'S SOUL ACHES.     but  he  can't  do  anything  about  it  now  ,     not  with  sylvain  here.     its  light out , now. early morning.     sylvain  probably  hasn't  eaten  since supper.     he'll  die  too  ,     if  he  isn't  fed.     sullen  and  silent  ,     giovanni  stands  with  stumbling  steps  and  starts  for  the  kitchen  ,     hollow  in  the  eyes  ,     barely  there.     on  his  way  by  ,   he  reaches  to  touch  sylvain's  shoulder  ,     squeezing  it———a  confirmation  that  he's  still  there  ,     still  warm  and  breathing  ,     still  alive.

@polarean

[moriors]

❛❛  you  would  not  be  the  first  to  say  so.  ❜❜           giovanni  shrugs  off  the  remark  like  air  ,     one  of  the  things  he's  used  to  hearing  the  most———when  he  bothers  to  speak  with  someone  more  than  once.           ❛❛  i  suppose  a  library  is  a  magnet  for  odd  people  ,     these  days———you  are  going  to  snap  the  book  in  half  ,     like  that.  ❜❜ 

he  could  call  this  man  odd  too.     who  holds  a  book  with  such  fierceness  over  one  odd  man  ?     HIS BROWS FURROW DISAPPROVINGLY  ,     and  he  returns  to  the  spines  on  the  shelf  ,     still  disapproving  as  he  finds  little  else  new  to  him.     his  gaze  flickers  between  caleb  and  the  books.           ❛❛  pete  the  cat  is  a  children's  book  ,     it  seems  ,     so  i  am  very  sure.    allora———are  you  going  to  try  to kill  me  ,     or  something  of  that  ilk  ?     have  i  angered  you  ?  ❜❜

He was odd, with a dark vibe that seemed to follow him everywhere. He wasn't a ghost, and he didn't seem quite human, therefore Caleb didn't know what he could be. And he annoyed him, that he knew. That's why he still stands there despite the other clearly not wanting him to. That's why he won't leave until he figures it all out.

“ You're an odd man. ” He says rather frankly, taking the thin pink book from the other and holding it in his hands so tightly the binding on it starts to crease — as if it would take much work anyway. “ We get all sorts of odd people here but not like you. ” And not because he seemed . . . Italian, was it? “ Are you sure Pete the Cat can't help your . . . mythical problems? ”

[moriors]

eyes  roll with a scoff  ,     perhaps  the  most  emotive  giovanni  has  been  in  some  time.          ❛❛  i  am  far  older  than  boomers.     i  recall  when  they  were  babies.  ❜❜           this  isn't  helping  his  case  ,     he  realizes  ,     another  phrase  one-such  boomer  would  be  like  to  say———he  doesn't  care.     anyways  ,     he's  too  distracted  when  there  are  hands  on  his  hips  ,     eyes  widening  at  jameson  in  a  way  simultaneously  warning  and  encouraging.          ❛❛  if  you  are  going  to  put  your  hands  there  ,     i  would  prefer  we  were  upstairs  ,     you  know.     or  at  least  in  a  bathroom.  ❜❜           still  ,     he  doesn't  move;     HE ISN'T GOING TO DANCE  ,     doesn't  want  to  ,     and  thus  simply  stands  there———wondering  how  long  jameson  is  going  to  keep  this  up  before  relenting.     they  both  have  eternity  to  stand  here  ,     after  all.          ❛❛  i  do  not  care  about  dancing.     i  am  going  to  go  back  outside  ,     if  you  want  to  keep  on.  ❜❜

" you're such a fucking boomer, oh my god, " jameson laughs, because last time he'd heard the this isn't music, it's noise it had been from a law professor in his mortal days ---- a man easily past the usual retirement age. of course, giovanni is an ultra - boomer, a creature of a different species, the oldest old man to ever live. and jameson, after six decades of immortality and eighty years of life, promises himself every day when he awakes at sunset that he'd not going to become a musty, forgotten creature who can't change with the centuries. if he's going to be more or less immortal, he might as well have fun with it, right? so he's dragging giovanni deeper into the crowded dance floor, his shoulders moving with the beat, his smile ever - bright and a naturally sharp. " if i wanted you to watch me dance, we'd be doing this in my room upstairs. come on, it's easy! " jameson releases giovanni's hands, only to grab his hips, " try not to be stiff as a corpse, and you're halfway there. "

[moriors]

Aneurin Barnard as Daniel Solace in 1899 — 1.01 “The Ship”

[moriors]

*

words by @starpeace

[moriors]

@leftenantcolonels . . . ❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜ thomas.

dizzy  eyes  still  manage  to  roll  ,     a  hand  clamping  over  the  immortal's  neck.           ❛❛  yes  ,     that  tends  to  happen  after  teeth  puncture  your  neck.  ❜❜          giovanni  pulls  his  hand  back  to  inspect  it  ,     taking  note  of  how  much  blood  he's  still  losing———he'll  have  to  bandage  this  ,     for  a  day  or  two.    inconvenient  ,    but  nothing  he  isn't  already  used  to.     through  warped  vision  ,     he  squints  at  the  other  ,     shrugging  as  if  to  say;    what  do  you  want  me  to  do  about  it  ?     in  his  own  house  ,     he  would  be  able  to  hunt  down  one  of  the  many  first  aid  kits  he  stores  wherever  he  goes.          ❛❛  i  do  not  suppose  you  have  bandages  to  offer  me  ?    it  would  certainly  make  not  getting  blood  everywhere  a  bit  easier.     though  i  am  not  quite  sure  why  it  matters  ,     to  you.  ❜❜