LUCKLESS!

BOLD whatever applies to / attracts your muse.

BROTHERS KARAMAZOV   :   orthodox monasteries   ,   deep woods ,   starry nights ,  the sound of paper being torn ,   dimly lit rooms ,  withered roses   ,  an unfinished letter , piles of books   ,   the sound of shattering glass ,  ticking of clocks in a silent house ,  heavy wooden furniture  ,   the air before a storm   ,   the smell of earth   ,   a crowd of people dressed in black , distant murmurs  ,  emptied streets ,   the fear of walking alone in dusk.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT : coldness of the skin against a blade ,   slender pale fingers   &   slightly shaking hands   ,   a red stain blooming on white fabric   ,  lonely steps in a corridor ,  the slow dripping of water  ,   looking out of the window into the thickening darkness  ,   a single dying candle on the table   ,   listening to one’s breath   &   counting heartbeats  , too many stairs  ,  the desire to be invisible , a subtle memory of kind word.

THE IDIOT   :   classical statues ,   wealth covered with dust  ,  a dark house tainted with inherited madness  ,  an unsettling feeling ,  long walks in a park  ,   useless chatter   ,   a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench   , a melancholic face   ,   an unexpected spring rain ,   the joy of reading one’s favorite book  ,   the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around ,  looking at cloudless sky.

ANNA KARENINA :      fields of crops  ,   flowers brought from an early morning walk , the wind caressing a girl’s hair   ,   a bowl of fruit ,   the smell of ripe pears ,   the clatter of a spoon against porcelain when stirring tea   ,   children’s laughter coming from the garden ,   soft sunlight   &   white curtains ,   the sensation of velvet against skin  ,  pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor   ,  a sudden silence in a room full of people.

WAR AND PEACE :   a glass of wine ,   the brightness of  a crystal chandelier , white lace , a raging snow storm ,   the sound of a door being gently closed ,   the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ball room   ,   indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light   , closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing ,   the sweet smell of strawberries ,   a pair of gloves left on an armchair ,   light scent of powder.

THE MASTER AND MARGARITA   :   the chaos of a lively city ,   ambient jazz in expensive restaurants   ,  jumping on a moving tram ,    the sight of moscow from the roof of a house , yellow flowers in a vase , leaning out of the window  ,  shelves stacked with books , a small tin box with old photographs   , strange shapes in the night sky ,laughing in the middle of the night on a balcony ,   colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind.

EUGENE ONEGIN :   a lonely mansion   ,   reading a book in the parlor  , faint piano melody lingering in falling silence ,   long evenings   ,   passing seasons   ,   discussing french novels of the moment  , unspoken thoughts   ,   leaning against the door frame , quickly averted glance  ,  eating a peach absent-minded  , bright mornings , footprints in snow   , a loud gun-shot terrifying a flock of birds nearby.

FATHERS AND SONS   :   birch groves   ,  morning mist ,   moss-covered stones near a moor  ,   scientific books   ,   white roses ,   cheap champagne ,   shabby pocket-watch  , light-hearted irony   ,   a maladroit cello sonata   ,   freshly mowed grass   , leaving thoughts come   &   go  , a slow yawn ,   picturesque plates   &   bowls filled with traditional dishes  , drinking tea on the porch.

DOCTOR ZHIVAGO :   a strange feeling of loss ,  writing poems in a diary , traveling by train   , the hesitation before touching someone’s hand   , the gaze of one lost in thought , the warmth of cinnamon  ,   a scarf brightly embellished with flowers   ,   a glass of water  ,   a threadbare jacket  ,   the tempting void  , the evanescent serenity of yesterday.

CHERRY ORCHARD :   a lone chair in an empty room , falling blossoms ,   old samovar   ,   the unsettling need for change  ,   a mirror reflecting full moon   , the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance  ,   a piano out of tune.

there’s nothing that can warm the princess’ heart quite like the look in someones eyes when giving them a gift. for cassandra, it’s so much more satisfying and rapunzel can feel her heart flutter. the other was always so much more serious, perhaps cynical at her worst, but in these moments when rapunzel can just see past the wall that her best friend had built around herself – well, it made any work put in absolutely worth it. the blonde laughs, keeping her hands tucked neatly behind her, that is until cassandra swipes frosting across her face.

“– hey!” delicate slender fingers wipes the frosting from her cheek and nose and pops them between painted lips. the pink buttercream is sweet, and rapunzel enjoys the taste as her friend moves and takes a seat. 

“i’m really happy you love the painting, cass,” she hums, green eyes moving and admiring the work. thoughts flicker back to the painting above the fireplace in the tower, and rapunzel’s expression softens. “i’ve always liked to visualize my dreams, so… it felt like it was only fair to paint yours.”

rapunzel brings her hands forward and gently folds them in front of her as she leans against the desk. “for the most part,“ she tears her gaze away from the cool expression of painted cassandra to the flesh and blood cassandra sitting beside her. “gothel must have known something about painting because she knew exactly how to create the paint from berries so it was smooth and which berries to use for the brightest and richest colors, and sometimes she gave me pointers to unlock my wrist to get better control of the brush. she never really talked about her hobbies with me, so i can’t say for sure.” 

the blonde blinks before laughing again, “i get tons of practice when i’m sketching in my journal about my day and since we’re always together i sketch you a whole lot. probably even more than eugene.”

it  had  been  terribly  difficult  to  open  up  during  the  last  few  days ,  the  handmaiden  instead  resorting  to  snapping  at  the  princess   (  or  her  boyfriend  ).   cassandra  was  one  to  throw  herself  into  whatever  she  was  doing  instead  of  confronting  emotions  head-on ,  &  now  that  the  damp  &  frankly  miserable  coronian  spring  melted  into  a  bright  summer ,  the  royal  guards  were  back  to  their  outdoor  training  &  cassandra  could  finally  join  them  once  more.  perhaps  in  their  nearly  year  long  friendship  rapunzel  had  learned  about  this  tendency  to  very  nearly  self-destruct  &  knows  what  to  do  to  pull  cassandra  out  of  the  dark  inner  corners  of  her  mind ,  but  it  truly  didn’t  take  much.  just  hearing  that  melodic  laugh  leave  royal  lips  was  enough  to  wring  the  tension  from  cassandra’s  shoulders ,  leaving  them  the  most  relaxed  they  had  been  in  days ,  maybe  even  weeks.

❛  everything  comes  back  to  DREAMS  with  you ,  ❜   the  lady-in-waiting  chirps ,  throwing  an  arm  up  to  rest  on  rapunzel’s  desk  after  tossing  a  look  over  her  shoulder  to  ensure  she  wasn’t  knocking  anything  over.  the  princess’  bright  green  eyes  soon  meet  her  gaze  &  still ,  after  all  these  months ,  manages  to  make  cass  freeze  like  a  frightened  doe.  

whenever  rapunzel  speaks  of  the  witch ,  gothel ,  it  always  comes  off  as  some  past  life  she  had  lived  millennia  ago.  when  it  came  to  gothel ,  a  mere  mention  of  her  had  felt  as  if  it  were  illegal  in  the  walls  of  the  castle.  the  king  &  queen  never  wanted  to  speak  or  hear  of  her ,  understandably  so ,  but  the  princess  still  manages  to  speak  of  her  kidnapper  with  respect.  proof  again  that  the  blonde  was  a  better  person  than  cassandra  could  ever  be.  

even  though  the  lady-in-waiting  initiated  the  flirty  banter ,  hearing  that  rapunzel  possibly  sketches  HER  FACE  in  her  journal ,  where  she  reflects  about  her  days  &  her  emotions  without  the  fear  of  being  judged.  dark ,  hazel  green  eyes  fall  from  the  direct  eye  contact  &  she  looks  at  the  daybed  by  the  princess’  tall  window ,  the  spot  with  a  little  dip  in  the  cushion  where  cassandra  sees  rapunzel  sketch  in  her  journal  the  most  often.  to  think  about  what  was  written  about  her  between  the  leather-bound  covers  of  that  book...   it  was  most  likely  nothing  serious ,  just  the  princess  talking  about  how  the  two  girls  were  close  -  like  sisters  -  but  that  doesn’t  stop  the  blush  from  crawling  onto  pale  cheeks.