#arkehtype

they know everything, the entire past of carol, through those that had still been alive at the time of the joining. they’d seen the people that mattered to her and those that she discarded without a second thought. they couldn't tell when she was lying, but they understood when there was a contradiction in other people's memories.

negative emotions were rare for the hive to experience unless under extreme duress or unless it was the individual alone that felt that way beneath.

` #calista-quinn _ he's had a rough day. she'd known that before he'd even made it home, before he'd walked through the door and greeted her as he does every time he's been away from her for longer than HE deems acceptable ( which is about, oh, five minutes ... if that ) - cali watched him move around the kitchen, cleaning up after they'd finished eating. he won't let her help. cook or clean. it's as infuriating as it is endearing. she's become a bit of a princess thanks to aaron. her parents and his mom are conversing in the dining room, her sister on a call in the office. her head leaning into the palm of her hand, elbow on the backrest of the sofa, cali ran her tongue over her teeth as a thought formed, and she smirked.

— @arkehtype 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍: it's the way that it always was. ➘ ( MAYBE HAPPY ENDING. )

as long as they both were alive, not a day would pass that paul didn’t question the ways of his mother. yet, as he grew older, he found himself less troubled by her riddles & more annoyed at her inability to speak forthrightly with him. unlike his late father, the young duke understood his mother & her ways. she had taught him in them & made him in her image, while she also crafted him to become something greater than herself.

however, his eyes narrowed as he looked in her direction. her words would’ve left him questioning her if it weren’t for the fact that fremen were all around them. they listened to every conversation the mother & the son shared, which meant talking in riddles would become their norm until they had moments alone.

“ it’s the way your sisterhood wants it to be, ” paul abruptly corrected his mother in a hushed tone.

looking away from her, he found his attention drawn to the fremen girl from his dreams, chani, & watched as she laughed with the others. his pale cheeks burned from the sun, or was it something else? “ i’m not like them, ” he started to speak to her again, this time without looking at her, while his fingers traced circles in the sand. “ you can’t say things & expect me to accept them without question. i know your ways, they do not, but they trust you all the same. ”

the sarcasm has become familiar to them with the time they spent with carol and with the late hour, they could understand why carol would be upset in this instance.

"he had a lot of questions we were happy to answer, we're grateful that he made contact with us after so long." it's more of a forced smile than it usually is, one that doesn't reach the dark eyes as she turns to her. the lightness was beginning to fade from her, the parts of zosia that bled through from the hive were dissolving more every day.

such   a   sentence   should   never   leave   her   lips   ,   her   talent   much   too   great   for   her   to   even   think   that   she   could   ever   create   a   bad   painting.   gustave   himself   lacks   the   ability   to   create   from   a   more   artistic   standpoint   ,   &   he   truly   admires   those   who   can   pick   up   a   brush   &   create   beautiful   works   of   art   ,   be   it   from   life   or   simply   just   from   their imagination.   when   he   was   first   hired   by   aline   to   work   for   the   manor   ,   he   admittedly   was   a   bit   intimated   by   her   presence.   as   the   matron   of   the   infamous   dessendre   family   ,   he   knew   there   would   be   no   room   for   errors   when   working   under   her.   as   time   passed   ,   he's   come   to   know   the   family   well   ,   &   while   aline   &   clea   still   make   him   a   touch   nervous still   ,   there   is   a   warmth   to   be   found   in   aline   when   they   speak.   she's   passionate   about   her   art   ,   as   well   as   completely devoted to her   family   &   one   can   easily   respect   that   ,   especially   with   how   much   of   herself   she   pours   into   caring   for   either.   to   be   in   the   presence   of   such   a   talented   painter   . . .   it's   a   honor   &   a   privilege   to   bear   witness   to   growing   greatness   in   person.   perhaps   one   day   ,   once   he's   become   a   more   established   engineer   ,   he   can   achieve   an   ounce   of   respect   that   aline   dessendre   has   with   most   of   paris.

❝ i'm   not   an   expert   in   the   arts   ,   but   i   do   think   you're   being   rather   harsh   on   yourself.   ❞   he   approaches   the   canvas   she's   speaking   of   to   inspect   it   further   ,   the   piece   not   quite   complete , but a sight to behold.   the   colors   she   chose   are   a   mix   of   vibrant   shades   ,   blending   well   together   effortlessly in a sea of gouache.   ❝   its   a   beautiful   piece   ,   madame   dessendre.   i   have   no   doubt   this   will   impress   &   inspire   any   other   painters   or   art   lovers.   ❞   it   could   be   easy   to   lie   ,   say kind words simply   to   please   his   employer   &   ensure   his   continued   employment   ,   but   gustave   has   always   been   a   earnest   &   truthful   man   ━━   he   would   never   say   anything   unless   it   was   the   full   truth.   he   takes   a   moment   longer   to   look   at   the   canvas   ,   the   colors   almost   appearing   as   though   they   could   move   likes   waves   in   the   water. that's the magic of the painters ━━ their works essentially come to life.   ❝   why   are   you   so   doubtful   of   this   piece   ?   ❞   the   question   leaves   gustave's   lips   before   he   can   think   on   it further   ,   curiosity   getting   the   better   of   him   in   an   effort   to   see   if   there   are   words   of   comfort   he   can   offer   the   paintress.   ❝   i   suppose   even   the   greatest   artists   have   moments   of uncertainty from   time   to   time   ,   but   . . .   &   forgive   me   if   i'm   out   of   line   ,   madame   ,   but   you've   always   carried   such   confidence   in   your   work.   ❞   his   head   tilts   ,   adjusting   his   glasses   slightly.   ❝   what's   changed today   ?   ❞

prompt.

❝ We are already lost. We have been for quite some time. ❞ Renoir spoke gently. The endless stretch of canvas laid out before them. Chroma gathered in the air, an endless ocean between the two of them. The flow of chroma as second nature to him as breathing. His brush in hand. He is thoughtful.

Where he enjoyed the mere process of creation, he understood Aline focused on results. This resulted in a stalemate between them. The canvas lacking any clear direction. Renoir having thought of several drafts but never settling on a clear design. He focused on refining until he was happy with what he'd come up with.

COMPANION     [ACCEPTING]     FEAT.    @arkehtype's KERRA