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and EVEN WHEN things were more muted/neutral, the neutrality was OFFSET by ACCENT COLORS and HIGH CONTRAST between the wood tones and everything ELSE
ALSO AMERICAN COLONIAL INTERIORS POPPED OFF, Y'ALL (IN TERMS OF COLOR/COZINESS)
PEOPLE USED WHITEWASH AND COLORFUL TRIM OR EVEN JUST COLORFUL FURNITURE IF THEY COULD AFFORD TO DO SO
AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON FRENCH AND BRITISH AND AMERICAN WALLPAPERS
"ELIZABETH" YOU CRY, "WHY ARE YOU BEING SO EXTRA THIS MORNING?! IT'S MONDAY"
Because, my friend, my war on GREIGE will NEVER end.
Historic interiors were filled with LIFE and LIGHT and COLOR. ALWAYS HAVE BEEN.
Part of the reason we don't see a lot of textile art is because, frankly, textiles tend to degrade over time - especially ones that had utility! And yes, pigments and weaving and dying all boosted the expense of things, when we were finally reliably block-printing fabrics and broad reams of paper, it was no longer just the wealthy who could afford pretty patterns!
In the Americas, a far wider variety of pigments also became available because of the abundance of... well, a shitton of flora and minerals, some of which weren't as common in Europe.
WHY THE HIGHLIGHTER COLORS? you ask.
CANDLES.
Those colors reflect candlelight and natural sunlight REALLY WELL.
Humans LOVE bright colors, it's NOT just a thing for kids. We live in a brilliant, vibrant, multifaceted world. We ALWAYS have.
(STOP MAKING YOUR HISTORIC SIMS 4 BUILDS BE BLAND. STOP IT.)
I love redemption arcs but even more I love forgiveness arcs. Yeah, you did that awful thing and it was terrible. No, you can't undo it. But you can still be loved.
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Headcanon - In case Celine never returned from a hunt, she had a large folder of papers both physically and digitally that were for a trusted lawyer (tied up in like 50 NDAs) to handle. The papers all had basic stuff like, what to do with Rumi, at what age to give her a notebook filled with information on the honmoon and demons, numbers and passwords for accounts set up specifically for Rumi only to use, etc. Celine had information for Sunlight Entertainment but she cared more that Rumi was set up and secure.
It wasn't until after the movie that Rumi actually looked through the papers while she, Mira and Zoey were there collecting some papers and found paper after paper after paper talking about what her favorite foods were, the lullabies she liked, her favorite teddy bears and how some of them could NOT leave her room, which flowers made her sick, what to feed her when she got sick, her favorite color, links to videos of the Sunlight Sisters and specific points to pause when Miyeong was on screen.
I've read three fics in the last week where Celine awkwardly shoves a How Your Body Works book at preteen Rumi and both of them anxiously never speak of it again, and quite frankly, what. No. Absolutely not. I don't care how much anyone's vision of Celine hates uncomfortable conversations, that woman is raising her 19 or 20 year old bandmate's bastard child by a demon. Rumi is getting the most comprehensive education on how not to get pregnant in the history of sex talks by the time she's twelve, even if the embarassment kills them both.
More than that, Celine had to train the whole next generation. There is no way she did not take Mira aside one day and give her the most thorough sex talk Mira had ever received (the one her own mother had given her largely boiling down to "Don't you dare bring more shame on us") while Rumi was pouting at being left out of their talk, then told Mira she can always ask her any questions and to think about what sort of birth control she wanted to get on so she could discuss it with her GP, and Mira walked out of Celine's office into Rumi's bedroom where she sat down on the floor, stared at the wall and said "celine just told me how babies were made" and Rumi wants to fall through the floor in embarrassment.
Then Zoey arrives and Celine does the same thing all over again, except with a Californian teen who keeps insisting that she knows, her Health class watched a video and she's aware of the basics, but Celine keeps going until Zoey goes and finds the other two and says in a slightly-awed voice "Kang Celine of the Sunlight Sisters just talked to me about how I would go about getting some Plan B. How is this my life" while Rumi hides her face in a cushion and screams
And then they go and move out into their trainee apartment and Celine makes a point of telling them where the nearest pharmacist is, how to handle any medications discretely, and (before she lets herself out) that she has made sure there are plenty of condoms (a collective gasp of horror from all three girls; Celine is not allowed to use the word condom, much less in connection to the three of them, and probably shouldn't even be allowed to know what they are at all if Rumi had her way).
They open the bathroom cabinet, and indeed find two boxes of condoms in there.
"We have cleaners, Celine," Rumi grumbles. "This is a scandal waiting to happen."
"19 and 20 year olds found with condoms, that's worth breaking an NDA over?"
"Ugh."
Then they go into their new bedrooms and start to unpack, and Rumi opens up the drawer in her nightstand to put away some of her favourite fuzzy bedsocks. And finds another box of condoms.
The slightly hysterical laughter from both the other rooms suggests she is not the only one.
"It's sweet!" Zoey insists later. "She wants us to be safe!"
"She wants to make sure nobody repeats my mother's mistake," Rumi shoots back, and for a moment, her arm doesn't sting.
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So this really has no purpose except angst for angst's sake but;
Idea that Rumi had a dog growing up, a puppy that she found dumped on the side of the road and begged and pleaded with Celine to keep until Celine gave in and agreed that the puppy could live with them.
"You're going to be taking care of it, Rumi-ya," Celine says, already knowing that she's going to be the one feeding and watering the mangy, skinny thing.
Runi grows older, the dog grows older.
And the life of a touring pop star really isn't the best life to give to an aging dog so Rumi decides that it's really for the best if the dog stays with Celine on Jeju, where it's quieter and slower.
(The dog misses Rumi very much)
And what no one tells Rumi, what Rumi has to learn from getting older, is that the years pass quick. And they pass especially quick when one is an artist busy with tours and interviews and marketing and slaying demons.
("When did his muzzle go gray?" She asks, one Chuseok, on one of the precious few days she's able to make it to Jeju.
"Oh, it's been getting that way for a while," Celine says, pushing up her new reading glasses. "We're both senior citizens now.")
(And Rumi had rolled her eyes because Celine wasn't even fifty yet.)
By the time the Idol Awards came around again and Rumi's secret was revealed, she hadn't been back to Jeju for... a while. Her patterns were spreading and she could feel her time running out.
When Rumi arrives on Jeju, she arrives at the hanok first.
And the dog, waiting at the front door (where it had been waiting a long time), raises its head, recognizing Rumi's scent.
Rumi, not wanting to greet her dog like this, shooes it away. Promising that she would be back and walks up the steps to the tree and Celine.
And the dog, watching Rumi go, having waited and lingered until Rumi returned home, lays it's head down a final time.
*remembers how Argos' death absolutely destroyed younger me*
*reads anyway*
*gets absolutely destroyed*
*makes it worse*
Rumi doesn't notice the body as she rushes back through the door. Really, Celine doesn't blame her. At a glance it looks like the dog is just deep in the midst of a peaceful sleep, and that is all Rumi had the time and mental energy for, a glance.
Something too brief to see how his sides don't rise, or fall.
Something too fleeting to notice how stillness lay atop him like a shroud.
Something too distracted to witness what Celine could see the moment her eyes rested on the muzzle gone gray.
He is gone, and has taken another tie to Rumi's childhood with him.
For a moment she crouches alongside the body, fur cooling beneath her palm, silently thanking the dog for the hours of quiet companionship that made her nest feel a little less empty, the nights she breathed a little easier while on a Hunt knowing Jindo was watching over Rumi, and the smiles he put on her little girl's face.
He was a good dog.
Her next thought is for Rumi; of course it is.
She's still on Jeju; it's barely been half an hour since she left; she only needs to call and the car will be crunching back over the gravel so Rumi can run up the walk and bury one last round of tears in the salt-and-pepper fur.
And Celine considers it; has Rumi's contact on her phone screen, has her thumb hovering over the 'call' button.
But she doesn't.
"They're getting worse!" Rumi had all but wailed when she burst upon the tree, distraught. Celine had no response beyond staring, hand trapping a gasp, at the sight of the patterns- those damn patterns- clawing across more of her daughter's Rumi's skin than ever before. Snaking under the straps of her bra, snarling down her arms, and scrabbling, voracious, at her neck, demonic claws reaching for her voice.
Like Gwi-Ma was trying to claim her.
Celine stayed calm, did what she always did (all she knew how to do)- repeated again the promise of salvation by the Golden Honmoon, repeated again the importance of keeping faults and fears where they belonged- as she gently prised Rumi's shirt from her fist and slid in back on, slipped her own cardigan from her back to Rumi's, and reminded her of just how important the Idol Awards were (more than ever now). Never once betraying her own fears, modeling what Rumi needed to succeed in this.
She had left…still upset, but with a resolute air and laser focus Celine knew as the heralds of triumph.
Rumi needed strength, not to hear her dog was dead. Or to be burdened with grief.
It just...made everything harder.
Celine knew.
She buried the dog in a spot Rumi would have picked, under a plum tree where girl and dog had wiled away many golden girlhood hours. Wrapped him in the blanket he'd had since a pup. Done everything Rumi would have wanted.
It is better this way, she tells herself as she shovels the last of the dirt. Rumi needs to turn the Honmoon gold, she can’t afford to fail, her humanity depends on it.
Never mind the guilt pushing at her, this is the right choice. The only choice.
(See, I had imagined it as happening right at the end of the movie and Celine goes back to the hanok and finds the cooling body -- a part of Rumi now lost forever)
(And Celine watches the sun break in the east and strokes the dog's fur and when the world doesn't end and the honmoon reappears, she calls Rumi, though she has no idea what to say)
(And she calls and calls and Rumi isn't picking up)
(And she leaves voicemails. Half congratulations, half telling Rumi to call because there's something important she needs to be told)
(And when Rumi doesn't call back, Celine leaves another voicemail telling her that the dog is dead and what does she want Celine to do with -- her voice breaks on 'the body')
(Rumi doesn't call and)
(Celine wraps the body up in his favorite blanket and sets his body in an unused corner of the cellar. It's cool down there and the body will keep longer than if it were out in the open)
(She hopes Rumi calls back soon enough to be able to say goodbye)
Rumi comes to Celine's months later, hesitant and slow; probably she should have called first, but- but after all those unanswered calls and ignored messages, she just can't.
Celine's in the garden, beds thick and green with high summer, moving slowly through a patch of weeds (had her movements always been so heavy? When- when did Celine get old?)
For a while she just watches, trying to think how to start (clear her throat? say 'hey?' move up and start working alongside her, like nothing had changed?
but so much had changed.
like how she had girlfriends now, how she learned the hard way her patterns could get sunburned, how...how she wanted to try again).
Celine, in that uncanny eyes-in-the-back-of-her-head way, straightens, turns, finds her gaze, and the nerve Rumi had been building up leeches out through her sneakers, carefully gathered thoughts collapsing like a house of cards.
"Here boy," she calls, turning away and whistling (gathering thoughts something that's easier with help, particularly of the canine kind). She digs into her pocket, pulls out a dried pig's ear. "Got your favorite!"
He doesn't come.
For the first time, he...doesn't come.
Just quiet, and Celine making a strange choking sound.
Her stomach plummets.
"Celine..." Like in a bad dream, she turns back to Celine. "Where-"
The look on her face is answer enough. Pieces crash into place, and then-
She'd expected to be angry today; just...not at herself.
(Okay but I think it would actually be hilarious if Celine wound up looking basically exactly like Rumi's dad only Rumi doesn't know it until she's helping Celine do a deep clean of the hanok or something and finds an old polaroid;
M: wait is that your dad?
R: must be. Huh, doesn’t he look familiar?
Zoey holds up the photo to Celine, who is moving something and not paying attention to them and their eyes just dart back and forth;
Z: wait did you mom -- do you think --
R: no no no *it's a coincidence*
M: i mean, your mom accidentally picked a guy who looked like Celine?
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I know the Celine was in love with Rumi's Mother and only told Rumi post canon headcanon is played for funnies but it just hit me how sad it is that in this scenario Celine had spent 25 years not being able to tell anyone that she'd lost the love of her life and is only allowed to grieve as a friend and not as lover to the public. Man that's heartbreaking
dededos
germansingergirl
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
