WE'RE SPEAKING NONSENSE / camera

[bubblegum]

DEAR FRIEND as you know,  your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
    but the clouds are clearing up
        and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
                                              like a bastard on the burning sea.

YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER,
BURIED DEEP UNDER THE WATER.

Relationship with memory has been rocky, not just this past month, but for the entirety of Goldenluxury Roux's life. A child, a desire to forget, to not think about it had taken her over, pushed her to move, move, move, and not to stop. The blood on the floorboards, the sight of his body alone on the beach. A forgotten attack for retaliation, a desire to know what would happen next, only to have her young mind riddled with a deep fear she'd not even imagined possible feeling. Until she finally, ended up with the snake that would ultimately take her mind, not once, but twice. She'd been offered a way to retrieve the memories he'd blocked before, but this was not some hold or power over her head anymore. The memories had leaked out with the blood that'd spilled. There was no way to retrieve them, put it back in her body. The only thing that they could do was attempt to substitute, fill in, until new resources were enough to take care of her completely. There was a hidden worry that she would lose this, too, and be left with nothing. A worry that others wished for her old blood, that she would never be able to get that back, and that she never would be able to be anything else but the lost face, the spilled memory.

When her ma had offered her the camera, the female found herself incredibly excited, immediately afterwards taking the time to figure out exactly how it worked. Pictures were captures of small memories, and she wanted to document them all as soon as she could start. It was like keeping a visual journal on life. And so, the tigress would step out the following morning with the camera attached to a lanyard around her neck. Her paws traverse across the beach, taking a seat next to a palm tree. She reaches up for the camera, pushing it up to her eye to simply begin quietly observing, deciding to take her first pictures of the palm tree, breeze quietly pushing through the leaves.

[Keona.]

[table][tr][td]

keona sibéal ní faoláin.
the typhoon.
the blind dealer.
information.

[/td][td]

[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 13px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin

It was strange.  Losing someone to memory.  Still in your life but... They weren't quite the same.  Didn't recall old conversations or simple moments.  But the tiny fae was coming to understand something... In the end... Her life would be a long one.  Very long.  She would lose many friends.  She had lost many.

She was thankful she hadn't lost Goldie entirely.  Because even if Goldie didn't remember all those little moments that made the Goldie she used to be, she was still that happy and curious girl that everyone loved.  It was just a second chance, to met her all over again.  To make new moments and memories.  And that was okay.  That was better than burying a friend.

So, the tiny wildcat did not shy away from the tigress.  On the contrary, Keona felt lured forward sometimes.  Curious.  Goldie had always been artistic.  Had hobbies.  More so than the dealer did, apart from reading.

Her hazel hues flickered and settled.  Off but nearly on point.  Where she thought Goldie's head might be.  Quiet.  Like she was concentrated.  Keona felt her own head tilt.  "Aloha," she murmured, tail tip twitching.  Wondering.

"What're you up to, Goldie?"

[/td][/tr][/table]

© MADI

[michael t.]

YOU NEVER GAVE UP ON ME; WHY DON'T YOU?
I'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU SEE; WHY WON'T YOU?

Michael had his own fondness for photos, for similar reasons to why Goldie had her own, honestly. While the thief had never been known for his exploits of good, like Goldie had, he had certainly once been known for his exploits of thievery. This penchant for stealing had not only painted a target on his back, but on Trevor's as well. It was also why the dealer had, at one time, sacrificed himself to one of his mortal enemies, The Lost, just to save his love from their fury. Even when he had escaped, he had still fully expected to ultimately be hunted down, and gutted for sins that he had committed in the past. As a result of this constant fear, he had buried his mind in the things he enjoyed. Things like old movies, and his constantly growing collection of jewelry. One thing he had loved more than everything, though, was his own dinky little camera. It wasn't anything particularly impressive, but it allowed him to capture a moment in time, and always have it with him. Pictures provided him with a reassurance that, if the end eventually did come for him, he would at least have a road map of his past to look back on, before fate finally beat down the door.

Of course, the dealer also knew photography as something more relaxing, and well... fun. There was some amount of pure joy to be held in just taking pictures of whatever you could find, and the thought of that was what brought a smile to Michael's muzzle as he spotted Goldie in the distance. He eagerly moved over to the former captain – his niece now, he supposed – and let out a soft hum in greeting, his bob of a tail twitching excitedly behind him. Sitting down against the warm sand, the darkly colored bobcat spoke casually, mismatched gaze moving from the palm tree Goldie had captured, over to Goldie herself, "Hey there, Gold. You get yourself a camera...? I gotta say, good choice."

Although Michael would usually be a bit embarrassed sharing his more mundane hobbies with others, he felt relaxed around Goldie, a soft chuckle leaving him before he continued, "I've got my own camera too, you know. And a whole connection of pictures I've taken with it... maybe I could show it to you, at some point." He was sure she'd be interested in the various parts of the territory he'd photographed. Although, there would be a few pictures he would have to hide away – mainly the ones of the softer moments between him and Trevor, like when they were curled up in bed together, napping. He preferred to keep those more personal ones to himself.

— Reggan

[bubblegum]

DEAR FRIEND as you know,  your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
    but the clouds are clearing up
        and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
                                              like a bastard on the burning sea.

YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER,
BURIED DEEP UNDER THE WATER.

She would agree in a sense with the smaller feline's sentiment, could she hear it. Life was long, is long, and it could have, should have ended so many different ways. She could only be grateful she still had it. Though there was the moments she had, wondering if others may have been happier if she had passed that day. Because, at least then, they would not have to face the dead memories, the lost experience. Then they would not have to explain the joy, or the grief. Then there would be no obligation to see someone you thought you'd once known change into someone else with little knowledge to whoever they may have been before. At least then, they wouldn't have to miss the old Goldenluxury Roux while being forced to face the newer, lesser one everyday.

But her interactions with Keona, while quiet, had not given her such an impression that she was unwanted, that she was grieved for so much. There was a struggle, at least a first, that she'd taken note of, had found herself uncomfortable, hesitant around at first, but it would soon fade away. There was now only a peaceful, almost awkward mutual understanding for one other. They had once known each other, and they would continue to know each other now. And they would not complain for this opportunity, to continue life, just slower, more unsure. They would carry on. "Takin' photos!" she'd answer eagerly to Keona's question, tail tapping the ground once. Although the other likely couldn't find as much joy in such an activity, seeing as she could not experience vision the same as them all. Photos, generally, were something flat and stagnant, not something that can be experienced through other senses less another was the describe it for them.

The next to approach was another she'd found it easier to be around, to not feel so pressured around. The old Goldenluxury had been something to both of them, but they had no necessity to continue having her. They could handle the change, in the end, and they would both stay by her side with it. Keona offering a quiet friendship, one that surpassed either of their lives, and Michael giving his own comfort, his protection, and his blissful joy. As he mentions owning the camera, she'd blink with interest towards that. "Mm, ma offered me it. I like it!" the tigress would respond with a nod. "I'd like t' see yours, too! They're like memories, captured in somethin' easy t' manage." The saying a picture held a thousand words didn't exist for no reason, after all. "Though I s'pose a diary o' sorts might be more effective for you, Keona."