#thomasson

According to Japanese artist Genpei Akasegawa, a Thomasson is an architectural feature or structure that, despite remaining useless, is still maintained as part of the building.

This type of Thomasson, known as Muyō mon (無用門) is a useless doorway that has been blocked up at some unknown time in the past, yet retains its form as a doorway.

Braubach.

📷Pentax K1000 🎞️Kentmere Pan 400

From staircases that lead to nowhere, to doors that open out to fatal drops, 'Thomassons' are architectural oddities generally described as 'useless, but still maintained'. I wrote a bit about them for the Sabukaru site. Read the full thing here...

Watch, Thomasson, 19th century, Metropolitan Museum of Art: European Sculpture and Decorative Arts

Bequest of Mary Clark Thompson, 1923 Size: Diameter: 2 1/16 in. (5.2 cm) Medium: Gold, enamel

Dear anon, I am so sorry for how long this took!  I forgot to save it, so I hope I can make up for it by tooth rotting cuteness.

Meg always poured her energy into athletics, keeping herself from rebellious tendencies in school when a coach noticed her potential.  She became such a skilled athlete that exercise was usually the go-to solution for any stress or frustration.  She could better herself and work out her emotions, instead of getting destructive.  

In the trials, running was always necessary.  Killers moved at inhuman speeds for simple walking, and sprinting away was one of the few surefire ways to avoid a slash to the back.  Often times, she helped the others train their ability to be able to sprint in a sudden burst of speed like she could.  

It was clear to Meg since Nea showed up that they were similar, at least with a natural rebelliousness that Meg diverted to athletics.  She got along with all the survivors fairly well, and enjoyed talking to Nea a lot.  She was Swedish, and had started taking long nights out and spray paint to release frustrations.  Cool.  

Meg always took the time to run through the foggy forest, even if it meant always getting turned around and showing back up at the campfire.  It was almost like doing laps, except she could just run and not think about where she was going.  It was relaxing now, even if she had found it concerning when she first arrived.  She was warming up with a jog, and would pick up her pace when her heart was pumping.  

She heard the sound of someone walking before she saw anything, and slowed herself.  No one else usually came out to the woods for any extended periods of time, and she had sworn she jogged into the woods alone.  She slowly crept forward, looking around her constantly.  She paused as she heard a snap, then a curse.  

“Son of a bitch..”  

She could’ve sworn that was Nea’s voice.  She walked a bit louder to alert Nea to her presence, brushing leaves and bushes aside to find her crouching with a half-assembled makeshift blade.  

“Nea?  What are you doing?”  

She sighed, shaking her hand and standing.  

“I was carving my name into these trees.  Just to see if the Entity will bother to get rid of them.  If it does, I’m doing it again.”  

Meg couldn’t help but laugh.  Nea’s eyes narrowed, making Meg shake her head.  

“No no, I’m not laughing at you, I just think it’s funny.  Y’know, imagine the Entity and how annoyed it’s gonna get because of this.”  

Nea grinned, picking up the broken blade.  

“I thought you were gonna laugh and say it was a waste of time.”  

Meg shook her head, grin wide on her face.  

“No way!  I used to do the same sorta stuff, sneaking out and getting into things I shouldn’t.  I just started running track to get out my frustrations since I was falling behind in school.  Besides, it should be pretty easy to find some rope to patch that up.”  

Nea fell into stride beside Meg, heading back to the campfire.  It was quiet, and nearly empty, as others were either out in trials or sleeping.  They borrowed some rope and wire from a toolbox, resecuring the blade to the handle.  Meg should’ve gone back to continue her daily run, but the idea of getting on the Entity’s nerves was too entertaining to pass up.  

“What were you going to write on the trees anyway?”

Nea shrugged, holding the knife in her hands.  

“Same as always, Mashtyx.  I would tag that on buildings all the time after we moved to America.”  

Meg tilted her head, hands in her pockets as she walked alongside Nea.

“Really?  Why’d you guys move?”  

Nea simply shrugged.  

“Don’t know, don’t care.  Not like they really cared about my opinion anyway.  I’d be gone for days and they wouldn’t even notice.”  

Meg frowned.  Nea talked so casually about it that it hurt.  How often did that happen?  She couldn’t ask that, and wouldn’t.  

“Well, their loss.  They didn’t get to know their really cool daughter.”  

She crossed her arms.  It was similar to her own dad leaving her and her mother, but Nea had always known both of them, and they had at some point stopped caring.  The thought made her angry.  

“Don’t need them anyway.”  

Nea got to work carving her tag into the trees, Meg watching with interest.  It seemed so fluid and natural, as if Nea was just writing her name.  Well, it is sorta her name, isn’t it?  Nea seemed so happy being a pain in the ass, and Meg couldn’t help but love her for it.

“Something you want?  I can feel you staring.”  

Meg tilted her head.  Play it cool, Thomas.  

“Well, yeah.  I wanted to try tagging some stuff of my own.”  

Nea seemed surprised, standing up to face Meg.  

“Oh yeah?  You don’t have a tag in mind, do you?”  

Meg grinned as an idea came to mind.  She gave a casual shrug.  

“I have an idea.”  

Nea spun the knife in her hand, holding the handle out to Meg with a nod to a nearby tree.  Meg took the knife, walking up to Nea and giving a quick kiss on the lips.  Nea blinked in surprise as Meg took a step back with a grin.  

“That was my idea.”  

She handed the blade back, Nea taking it with a narrow gaze.  She’s not mad, her cheeks are too red.  Her grin widened as Nea crossed her arms.  

“Not fair.”  

“Aww, come on, you gotta admit that was good!”  

Meg scooped Nea up in a hug as Nea muttered.  

“Yeah, yeah it was..”  

Meg gently put Nea down, grinning widely.  

“Wanna help me come up with a proper tag name?  I wanna have part of yours in mine.”  

Nea smiled, spinning the blade back around in her left hand and reaching to hold Meg’s hand with her right.  

The Inexplicably Fascinating Secret World of Thomasson