( it really isn't surprising that emmrich takes to persian like a fish to water — she can tell he's a man who needs a project, and after their risky meddling with the boundaries of death in this place, he's a little trepidatious to push in that direction. arabic script, parisa imagines, would be the hardest thing about learning the new language — but emmrich is meticulous and focused and won't settle for a job half completed, so his handwriting goes from hesitant to confident, beautiful and flowery. they work on his pronunciation and vocabulary in the evenings, parisa donning her farsi accent with a little self-consciousness, but eventually falling into rhythm with him, exchanging words back and forth until he gets the sounds right. estekhan, bone. khon, blood. shortam khise, mikham kireto mazekonam, ehsas khoobi behem midi vaghti kardi dakhel, my panties are soaked, i want to suck your dick, you feel so good inside me. all the important stuff.
the next letter is left out on his bedside table after, possibly for the first time ever, parisa woke up before him. in fact there are two letters — the same letter, but one written in english, and one written in french, except for the dedicated line, which reads my starry sky on the french copy. )
Mon ciel étoilé,
I believe I've seen your skeleton friend in your dreams, actually. He's very lively. Am I understanding that you found some spirit and put him in a completely different skeleton from the one he controlled while alive? I find that fascinating. The rules seem very flexible, which I suppose is why your Mourn Watch is so rigid in response.
Anyway, there's no drug I find half as indulgent as your attention. It's not much of a sacrifice, to leave my home. In fact, it's entirely selfish — I'm considering it solely for the benefit of myself, rest assured.
As for the art, I suppose you could call it a Middle Aged Euro-centric piece of folklore called the Danse Macabre, this belief that Death dances you to the afterlife. It reminded me of you, since you're so cheerful. This particular art is taken from what was at the time a world history encyclopedia known as Liber Chronicarum (Latin, trust me you don't need to learn that one), and with most things of that time, is heavily focused and influenced by Christianity. That said, it's still a good thing to leaf through, for the pictures if nothing else. What would ordinarily be a rare find in my world, I found relatively easy in the Library. It was from the earliest stages of printing, predating the printing press, even — an incunabulum, we'd call it. Of course, the one here is first addition. Careful hands, my beloved, I know you have them.
There are a lot of other pieces of art associated with Danse Macabre. A few middling poems here or there, but there's a composition that is actually quite good. I'll play it for you tonight.
Save a dance for me? Parisa
( she does manage to scrounge up a record player, and a rough press of camille saint-saëns'danse macabre, which she does use as an excuse to pull emmrich into a waltz, despite the morbid content. it's what they're good at, after all. )
no subject
the next letter is left out on his bedside table after, possibly for the first time ever, parisa woke up before him. in fact there are two letters — the same letter, but one written in english, and one written in french, except for the dedicated line, which reads my starry sky on the french copy. )
( she does manage to scrounge up a record player, and a rough press of camille saint-saëns'danse macabre, which she does use as an excuse to pull emmrich into a waltz, despite the morbid content. it's what they're good at, after all. )