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 Posted: Tue Jul 26, 2016 12:06 pm
“No Photographs because the light from flashes can be damaging?” He asked to be clear. “Other than that, I was just wondering if we will just be looking at the pictures of if you can tell us some of what you know about them, I think you’re the only expert I’ve even remotely turned up sir.” That was true after all, the only other leads he had was a newspaper article tucked into a 2006 year book that he needed to follow up on.
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Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2016 1:20 am
"No photographs because some of the paintings were purchased with the understanding that they will never be released for public consumption," said Renard. "As for answering questions, surely you didn't imagine I'd leave you alone with the collection?" Neither of them were even trained to handle canvases as old as Renard said these were. "I will be working on cataloguing which pieces need restoration while you look at the collection." He pulled on a pair of gloves himself and crossed the room to begin his chores, leaving the table to Jeremiah and Zac. Quote: You may begin with the sketchbooks or the canvases. Please specify which in your post.
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Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2016 9:13 pm
Jeremiah's lips twitched but his expression was otherwise neutral. This was definitely the man he had heard about from some of his officers but- Well, he could respect him all the same. The detective lieutenant plucked up two pairs of gloves and held out one set to Zac before he was sliding his own on. "Sketchbooks you think?" he asked quietly, head tilting towards them. As they often had unfinished pieces and notes and who knows what else in them. In the end, he really was letting Zac take the lead on this even if he was interested in the artist as well.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 9:55 am
Zac nodded his agreement. Sketchbooks sounded like a good idea to see a wide variety of things, half finished thoughts marked on paper in various mediums. He worked the gloves on making sure that the tips were against his fingers so that he wouldn’t risk damaging pages with a bad grip. “…I hadn’t thought about public release.” He admitted, though my goodness that had to be an interesting story. Were people trying to destroy them even now? “And, no I just, wasn’t sure if we’d just be able to look at the pictures with no answers. I’ve only ever seen documentaries of people handling things like this.” “But, if it’s alright, I agree with Mr. Mercer, may we start with the sketch books?”
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 5:58 pm
"As you wish," said Renard, who was carefully unearthing a canvas. The subject matter was of an unfamiliar person, her face stern and cold beneath a cap of dark hair. The sketchbooks are a wide spread of times and topics. In many cases, the bindings had been torn off by someone--perhaps the artist, perhaps some later zealot. Each of them is dated for the day it was begun in a spiky hand, pages long-yellowed and ink since fading from black to brown. Most of the sketchbooks feature scribbles on their front page: testing pen nibs for ink, rubbing a side of charcoal flat. They seem to be in chronological order, though the dates are torn off before one can see the year. Dec 20 19--and a corner missing. Going through all of them would take some time. Best to start with the sketchbooks that stand out, the ones that have been re-bound. There are three to choose from:
The blue sketchbook, so called for the blue chalk in use on its front page, has a variety of anatomical studies on the front.
Another sketchbook has a clear plastic cover on it and a neatly typewritten label: Subject T sketches.
The final sketchbook of interest has a very NC-17 drawing of two men ******** on the cover.
Which do you choose?
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 6:19 pm
Jeremiah's blue-green eyes focus on the painting for a moment, on the stern face and dark hair but his attention went to the sketchbooks. With the gloves on, he was carefully looking at them (treating them gently) before his eyes found the ones that had been rebound. The dates were gone, aside from part of it, and- His lips twitched as he stumbled upon the one with the two men on the cover. Mostly because he imagined that Zac would probably turn red, even if he was interested in looking it over. "I'll take this one," he said, tone neutral but his eyes were impish as he looked over the cover art before opening it. shibrogane NC-17 stuff please, BRING IT ON.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 6:25 pm
Zac’s face turned several shades darker red and he –almost- reached for the same sketchbook that Jer then offered to take. “I bet.” He said with a small laugh, trying not to look embarrassed that he’d reached for it. The plastic cover had hi a little intrigued by the remaining to. He glanced between the blue sketches, fascinated by the color and ‘Subject T’ – which was just a very odd title he thought. The plastic made it seem more new though which was interesting as well. “I’ll um, I’ll start with the blue period.” He offered. shibrogane I'm blue da-da dee da-dah-da da-da-dum
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2016 1:14 pm
azuredreams The sketchbook of smutty drawings contains... a lot of smutty drawings. Positions, people, gender compositions, they all vary, but over the hundred or so pages (118--an odd number for any sketchbook--perhaps some pages are missing?) several common figures resurface: a wide-hipped man with dark eyes and short hair, a stick-skinny woman, a man drawn consistently without a face but with a distinctive scar across his chest. There are several portraits as well: a profile view of a man who is recognizably Algernon Mercer, several thumbnails of someone who appears to be Eve Fitzgerald, and a young man who looks quite like her. And of course, interspersed throughout are notes. They're in Russian, which makes sense considering Prividaniye's surname, but the dark and spiky writing is in some ungodly pidgin of cursive and personal shorthand. Given time, Jeremiah could decipher it: for now, most of what he can read seems to be things like incorrect, bigger, wrong angle is he ******** her navel. An entire page is taken up with what could be a journal entry. It clearly doesn't belong in this sketchbook: the handwriting is a great deal neater, but again utilizes a personal shorthand. It would take several minutes for Jeremiah to decipher, if he chose to. endejester The blue period sketchbook is much less organized than the NSFW sketchbook. It has a truly eclectic collection of sketches, most of them studies of flowers, animals, and people. Some pages are tens of thumbnails for portrait composition; serial blank busts and lovingly detailed ferns, roses, chrysanthemums. There are fashion sketches, too, labeled in that the same cursive shorthand as in Jeremiah's book, but they are labeled the same collection of scribbles over and over. A brand name, perhaps? or the wearer who modeled for the sketches? A page is taken up by a drawing of two familiar boys standing together, arms thrown over each other's shoulders. Another seems to depict Cam Rylan holding a fisher cat. The notes in the blue book take up paragraphs, all in Russian, except where they're not. Prividaniye seems to have painstakingly transcribed several lines of what might be into his sketchbook: Instant rice takes five minutes. Instant pudding takes an hour. I doubt an instant of horrific pain feels particularly so. -- an odd sentiment for someone who lived a century ago. The story about the girl with the red ribbon around her throat. You know the one. -- and a different hand responding -- she grows up with the guy, and he keeps asking about the ribbon? -- and her head falls off. so much for true love.A circle of stars. Sword. Chalice. Crown, or ing? Beorc? Thorn?--ask.
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2016 8:50 pm
Jeremiah only briefly scans through the smutty pictures, though it is because he is looking for familiar faces. The most common ones he wonders if he should be recognizing, careful to not touch the pages too much but- The man without the face drawn and the scar across his chest makes him pause every time it pops up. For a moment he is tempted to ask Renard but then he discovers the portraits and it is Algie and Eve and ... Dylan? Her son? Had he been here in another life instead of not? Reading over the notes makes him snort. Especially when he picks up on some of the commentary of the angles and anatomy. Ultimately it is the journal entry that makes him pause and while he was still intrigued by the man without a face, the journal entry could be something. Carefully holding the sketchbook, he started to read it over to start deciphering it. A couple glances back at the other bits of personal shorthand he understood easier helped but he could do this. endejeste6 bonus points for that song ref!!!
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2016 2:35 pm
Instant…rice? Instant PUDDING? That was a incredibly strange, add to that familiar boys with their arms over each other’s shoulders. Cam Rylan and a fisher cat, Russian which he couldn’t read but… He frowned at the mention of the circle of stars and the rest. Thorne as well, Beorc? “Hey… Dad, remember that folk story about the girl with the red velvet ribbon? It’s mentioned here. See?” He said pointing to that last phrase, about that familiar sigil. Maybe he could draw more from the notations than Zac could. If he’d –thought- about it he might have asked if Aleksey might visit with him, but with the way the florist seemed to ‘see’ things he wasn’t sure he could get him within a mile of this house.
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Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2016 6:02 am
azuredreams It's not a journal entry, but a letter. Having never been folded, lacking a name for the addressee, the mistake is easy enough to make. But from the first paragraph onward, it's obvious that the words aren't meant for Prividaniye, they're meant for someone close to him. These are the contents: Sitting outside with the stars and my sketchbook. The pale light of their faces reflects on my glasses. I'm thankful that what this other place has in rain is not echoed in the presence of mosquitos; but here, in this light, it seems as if each drop glows with the same light. Second moonrise has come and gone, but I still must wait patiently for the man whom we suspect. You would expect me to.Here there is a mark that calls to mind Sunny's strange language, the indecipherable words that nevertheless speak their concept quite clearly. Written down, they lack the same punch. The nuances are absent in the small scribble. I remember watching you, the first time we came here. I liked to do that, to see how you parted these waves of soft-white murmurs and how you Saw things others could not. I liked to look at you. Often I wonder what you would say if you knew how close my attention was. Perhaps you would feel strange about it. Perhaps this, too, this telling of my longing, is a violation. Is it strange that I cannot bear to look away? As if you might disappear the moment I turn my eyes to another?
I heard somewhere that the man for whom I wait is not anatomically correct. He's been changed by this place. Beneath the human skin lies nothingness, rust and dust and bone shavings and the songs of the shattered stars. The source was someone who should certainly know, but you know that those who claim knowledge often lack it.
You, however, are anatomically correct. I sigh, thinking about it.
Sitting outside waiting, still, thinking of you, always.
For the girl who never gets mail.
From the boy who loves her.
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Posted: Mon Aug 01, 2016 9:15 pm
Jeremiah paused a moment, blinking his eyes a couple times because he was in that place that he went whenever he was trying to both decipher someone else's shorthand and translate Russian at the same time. Some part of him wondered if he should recognize the shorthand. "Hm?" He leaned a moment to look over and saw the conversation back and forth. "Ah, yes, I do." Perhaps it was one of the short stories he had read while trying to learn other languages. Still, had the boy loved the girl, truly loved her, when she made it clear that she did not wish to speak of it he should have left it be. Instead her head was lost and love as well. It was a bitter tale. Jeremiah was not a fan. "Give me a moment, Zac, I'll look after I finish reading this." It was a letter he realized as things clicked into place. From Prividaniye to someone else. There were several things that stood out. Saw. Second moon rise (had he heard something before? had he-). The ineffable language that Sunny used and was written down here. The mention of the man (bone shavings and the songs of shattered stars) had him thinking about the Burning Man (his favor burning a hole in his pocket still) but still ... He had no idea what to think. The letter was to a woman and the last bit seemed to imply that, perhaps, with the tone in other places the letters would never be sent. "There's some interesting stuff in here," he said quietly, coming closer to Zac to look at the book he had as requested. His eyes scanned through the notations, noting again that it was in Russian. Clearly it was going to be one of those days. He paused a moment, looking over to Renard. "Mister Leroux, may I inquire as to whether or not Prividaniye was known to have any lovers?" Something about the longing, the way he talked about the girl in the letter ... It resonated with him.
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 10:53 am
He waited patiently, because he’d thought that the man had been done reading when he’d asked him to look at what he’d found. He was wrong, but to be fair he hadn’t entirely expected Jer to be translating the Russian. He had to admit the idea that they could translate those notes made it more than a little worth it. He wished he’d ever found the time to learn it himself but he hadn’t. Perhaps he should flip back to some of the notes he himself couldn’t read, and report the oddities of ‘instant rice and pudding’ after they left? He did go a little wide-eyed at the question about the lover. Now he really wished he’d tried a little harder for that book that Jer had taken. For the best probably in the end but –still, it was enough to make a young person curious.
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 12:46 pm
It's true that Jeremiah knows someone who is a native-born Russian speaker and also prefers to communicate exclusively in nigh-illegible shorthand, but Aleksy didn't lend himself to poeticism. A letter from him might have, more correctly, read something like: I miss you, wanna ********> Also, Aleksy has slept with maybe one girl. So like, a lady probably wouldn't bestir his secret passion for poetry... if he even had one.
ANYWAY.
Renard looks up from the canvas he's studying. "There's ample evidence that he did have lovers," he says. "Are you looking for someone specific?" He leaves his canvas to join them at the table, gloved hands folded before him. "I was unaware either of you read Russian."
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 4:49 pm
Jeremiah was more prone to fits poeticism than Aleksy, for one, but also no stranger to longing for someone they probably should not long for. Never mind that there was that habit of Aleksy slipping into Russian when he was not paying attention and then Jeremiah would and then no one around either of them understood what was going on. Some part of that might have been on purpose. Which lead to trying to read Aleksy's shorthand, which he could do but it always was an effort because certain people may have actually tried to make it more illegible than usual. Jeremiah did not make a habit of trying to read it. He liked not losing flesh (heaven help him if he got a word wrong). ... moving on. "A woman but likely one watched from afar," Jeremiah replies immediately, focus going towards the sketchbook in Zac's hands. "I was just curious." Something about the longing, the words- Renard's question, however, makes him pause and he glances back up from where he is looking over what Zac wanted him to look at. To read the notations. There's no point in lying, he clearly has read part of the sketchbook. "I can," he says. No need to say he can speak it as well (better than he can read it). "Is there anything of the artist themself?" Jeremiah asks, moving away from the fact he can read Russian. "A self-portrait perhaps?" The NSFW sketchbook is there for Zac to look at, in particular the pages that contained the sketches of Algie and Eve and the young man that resembled her. Proof again that they had been at this before in another time.
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