#pierre alcover

[davidhudson]

Dita Parlo, September 4, 1908 – December 12, 1971.

With Pierre Alcover in André Hugon’s La rue sans joie (1938).

[oldfilmsflicker]

L’Argent, 1928 (dir. Marcel L'Herbier)

[dailyunsolvedmysteries-movedd]

Green Boots

The body of “Green Boots,” an Indian climber who died on Everest in 1996 and is believed to be Tsewang Paljor - although the body has not been officially identified - lies near a cave that all climbers must pass on their way to the peak. Green Boots now serves as a waypoint marker that climbers use to gauge how near they are to the summit. Green Boots met his end after becoming separated from his party. He sought refuge in a mountain overhang, but to no avail. He sat there shivering in the cold until he died.

The term Green Boots originated from the green Koflach mountaineering boots on his feet. All expeditions from the north side encounter the body curled in the limestone alcove cave at 8,500 m (27,900 ft) - very close to the summit.

The first recorded video footage of Green Boots was filmed on 21 May 2001 by French climber Pierre Paperon. In the video, Green Boots is shown lying on his left side, facing toward the summit. According to Paperon, Sherpas told him that it was the body of a Chinese mountaineer who had attempted the climb six months earlier.

Over time, the corpse became known both as a landmark on the north route and for its association with the death of David Sharp. In May 2014, Green Boots’ body was reported to be missing from view, presumably removed or buried. It reappeared, however, in 2017.

[hourcat]

about that Sleepy Charles fic: DO IT

sigh

the thing is! it wouldn't even be a long fic.

because really, charles is just...tired. it's been a long day - he's had so much fun w/pierre out at the nba house, laughing til he'd gone breathless like he'd run a marathon, not exactly sore from the basketball but a little strained because he doesn't use those specific muscles very often. and then the game later that night, which he'd wanted to go to but realized not that long after that he's not quite awake enough to actively care about the bulls or the pistons, just that pierre's leg is still warm pressed entirely against his own. esteban is laughing beside him at something - maybe a text he'd gotten from lance? charles really isn't paying him any mind, if only because, again, he's tired.

so by the time the game ends, and pierre and esteban say their goodbyes, charles is just. shot. "pear," he mumbles, "can we call a taxi?" arm hooked in pierre's. they're standing under a shadowy alcove outside the venue, so charles can press his cheek into pierre's shoulder and nuzzle tiredly without fear of being too seen.

and pierre laughs softly. "sure, mon amour." presses a kiss to charles' forehead, nuzzles back a little. charles makes a soft little noise at the contact, tucks closer. pierre turns to wrap his free arm around charles in an embrace, so that he's got his back to the road and charles is just...watching for their ride as he's snuggling closer to pierre. he's so warm. the jacket he's wearing is a little rough on the skin but charles still presses into it anyway, somehow comfortingly pierre - maybe the smell.

the car comes a little bit later. pierre gently herds charles into the back, then climbs in next to him and gives the driver the hotel address, mumbling some promise about not telling anyone who they are, and charles laughs softly when the driver answers that he doesn't even know who they are, how would he tell anyone. pierre is satisfied enough with that answer. they head off and pierre leans back, and as soon as he's reclined to the contours of the seat charles is on him. well. on him in that he's nestled in his side again, using the middle seat and seatbelt that he normally complains about so he can properly hook his leg over pierre's, press his face into the crook of his neck with only a little bit of interference.

"did you have fun, mon cheri," pierre murmurs softly, resting a hand on his knee gently - not to rile him up, but just to hold him a little more.

charles hums softly, scooting closer. he huffs an initial response that makes pierre chuckle from the sensation. "i did," he answers after a long beat. "it was nice to see este." a lie, kind of, he really didn't pay much attention to their friend at all, but he wasn't exactly unwelcome. there's not much charles can do with pierre when they're in front of all those cameras like that. "i can't wait for bed."

the sentiment makes pierre chuckle again. "you're not usually like this when you're excited for bed, calamar," he teases, and charles blushes but doesn't extract himself from pierre's side. "you really must be tired." he chuckles again when charles pouts, feeling it more than seeing it, charles imagines.

"i am," he insists softly. then, because it's pierre and he can't help but push buttons: "carry me upstairs?" a joke, in a way, but also - charles wouldn't mind that. carried off to bed the way they do sometimes, more awake and more frisky but with a similar end result.

pierre's amusement continues. "what are you," he murmurs in charles' ear, "my baby?" the teasing makes the blush on charles' face darken. he nods, despite it. "we will see, charlo. you gave me quite a run on defense this afternoon, eh? don't know if i have the strength to bring you all the way back."

charles giggles at the thought. this taxi ride could last all night, he thinks faintly, and he wouldn't mind at all.

[byneddiedingo]

René Lefèvre and Annabella in Le Million (René Clair, 1931)

Cast: Annabella, René Lefèvre, Jean-Louis Allibert, Paul Ollivier, Constantin Siroesco, Vanda Gréville, Odette Talazac, Pedro Elviro, Jane Pierson, André Michaud, Eugène Stuber, Pierre Alcover, Armand Bernard. Screenplay: René Clair, based on a play by Georges Berr and Marcel Guillemaud. Cinematography: Georges Périnal. Art direction: Lazare Meerson. Music: Armand Bernard, Philippe Parès, Georges Van Parys. 

The French do wonderful things with air. They invented the soufflé and Champagne, and the Montgolfier brothers mastered the art of ballooning. And no French director had a greater gift for buoyancy than René Clair, whose mastery of pacing keeps even the most cockamamie of stories from collapsing, going flat, or crashing to Earth. Le Million is the quintessential Clair film, a musical farce that inspired countless movies, some of which don't always stay aloft. You can see the lineaments of the Marx Brothers' A Night at the Opera (Sam Wood, 1935) in it as well as Jacques Demy's The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) and The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967). The story is much ado about a lottery ticket left in an old jacket owned by a young artist (René Lefèvre) with a mountain of debts, and it carries us from his studio to the jail to backstage at the opera and back again, sometimes journeying over the rooftops of Paris, all of which are embodied not by the real things but by Lazare Meerson's evocative sets. The music is pretty but forgettable, which is really all you need it to be. 

[alexlacquemanne]

Juillet MMXXIV

Films

Le Comte de Monte-Cristo (2024) d'Alexandre de La Patellière et Matthieu Delaporte avec Pierre Niney, Bastien Bouillon, Anaïs Demoustier, Anamaria Vartolomei, Laurent Lafitte, Pierfrancesco Favino, Patrick Mille, Vassili Schneider, Julien de Saint Jean et Julie de Bona

La Jalousie (1976) de Raymond Rouleau avec Daniel Gélin, Nicole Calfan, Jacques Toja, Annick Alane, Marc Eyraud, Anna Gaylor, Françoise Pages et Francis Lemaire

Maestro(s) (2022) de Bruno Chiche avec Yvan Attal, Pierre Arditi, Miou-Miou, Pascale Arbillot, Caroline Anglade, Nils Othenin-Girard et Caterina Murino

The Truman Show (1998) de Peter Weir avec Jim Carrey, Ed Harris, Laura Linney, Noah Emmerich, Natascha McElhone et Holland Taylor

Un crime dans la tête (The Manchurian Candidate) (1962) de John Frankenheimer avec Frank Sinatra, Laurence Harvey, Janet Leigh, Angela Lansbury, James Gregory, Lloyd Corrigan et Leslie Parrish

French Connection (The French Connection) (1971) de William Friedkin avec Gene Hackman, Fernando Rey, Roy Scheider, Tony Lo Bianco, Marcel Bozzuffi et Frédéric de Pasquale

To The Moon (Fly Me to the Moon) (2024) de Greg Berlanti avec Scarlett Johansson, Channing Tatum, Nick Dillenburg, Anna Garcia, Jim Rash, Noah Robbins, Colin Woodell et Christian Zuber

Le Gendarme de Saint-Tropez (1964) de Jean Girault avec Louis de Funès, Michel Galabru, Jean Lefebvre, Christian Marin, Guy Grosso, Michel Modo, Geneviève Grad, France Rumilly, Nicole Vervil et Claude Piéplu

La Marseillaise (1938) de Jean Renoir avec Pierre Renoir, Louis Jouvet, Lise Delamare, Andrex, Edmond Ardisson, Nadia Sibirskaïa, Jenny Hélia, Gaston Modot et Julien Carette

Un éléphant ça trompe énormément (1976) de Yves Robert avec Jean Rochefort, Claude Brasseur, Guy Bedos, Victor Lanoux, Danièle Delorme, Anny Duperey, Martine Sarcey et Marthe Villalonga

Le Gendarme à New York (1965) de Jean Girault avec Louis de Funès, Michel Galabru, Jean Lefebvre, Christian Marin, Guy Grosso, Michel Modo, Geneviève Grad et Alan Scott

Le Secret de Green Knowe (From Time to Time) (2009) de Julian Fellowes avec Alex Etel, Timothy Spall, Maggie Smith, Christopher Villiers, Pauline Collins, Eliza Bennett, Rachel Bell, Dominic West et Carice van Houten

Raoul Taburin (2018) de Pierre Godeau avec Benoît Poelvoorde, Édouard Baer, Suzanne Clément, Vincent Desagnat, Grégory Gadebois, Victor Assié et Timi-Joy Marbot

Nous irons tous au paradis (1977) de Yves Robert avec Jean Rochefort, Claude Brasseur, Guy Bedos, Victor Lanoux, Danièle Delorme, Marthe Villalonga, Jenny Arasse, Christophe Bourseiller et Josiane Balasko

Drôle de drame (1937) de Marcel Carné avec Françoise Rosay, Michel Simon, Louis Jouvet, Jean-Pierre Aumont, Nadine Vogel, Pierre Alcover et Jean-Louis Barrault

French Connection 2 (1975) de John Frankenheimer avec Gene Hackman, Fernando Rey, Bernard Fresson, Philippe Léotard, Ed Lauter, Charles Millot, Jean-Pierre Castaldi et Cathleen Nesbitt

Le Gendarme se marie (1968) de Jean Girault avec Louis de Funès, Michel Galabru, Jean Lefebvre, Christian Marin, Guy Grosso, Michel Modo, Geneviève Grad, Claude Gensac et Mario David

Totally Spies! le film (2009) de Pascal Jardin avec Claire Guyot, Fily Keita, Céline Mauge, Jean-Claude Donda, Karl Lagerfeld et Emmanuel Garijo

Séries

Maguy Saison 6

Quitte ou rouble - Séparation de survie - L'injuste prix - Une nièce rapportée - Une occase en moins - Météo et bas - Une Maude passagère - Bénévole d'essai - Tata poule - Des routes en déroute - Débat des eaux - L'ami gratteur - Pinceaux périlleux - Termite errant - Troubles de la télévision - Étrennes à la traîne - Mégarde à vue - Golf: heurts - Mépris de Rome - Le rappeur sur la ville - Jaloux y es-tu ? - Clochard abstrait - Affreux d'emploi - Un clown chasse l'autre - Adamo.. tus et bouche cousue - Passe-moi le recel - Fissures la corde raide - Écoutes que coûte - Le carton de la plaisanterie - Un fils à la patte - Mur… aïe ! - Désaccords de guitares - Une mage d'histoire - Compagnons d'alarmes - Despote au feu - Dernière cartouche au tableau - Des pots en dépôt

Affaires sensibles

17 et 18 septembre 1981 : dernière cigarette pour la guillotine - 1er février 2003, l’accident de la navette spatiale Columbia - Les Dix d’Hollywood, ou quand l’Amérique voyait rouge - Challenger 1986 : une catastrophe en plein ciel pour la fin d’un rêve "étoilé" - La tornade Michel Polac - John Lennon, mort d'un enfant du siècle - “Nous irons les buter jusque dans les chiottes” Russie, 1999, les attentats, la Tchétchénie et Poutine - Essais nucléaires dans le pacifique, un mensonge français - Péchiney : délit d'amitié, délit d'initiés

Le Coffre à Catch

#174 : William Regal champion en Angleterre? - #175 : CM Punk de retour à la ECW ! - #176 : Shelton vs Christian : un banger en préparation ! - #177 : Trent Baretta & Caylen Croft : les vrais Best Friends ! - #178 : TLC 2009 : Un Show Stealer ?

WWE : les rivalités de légende Saison 2

Hulk Hogan vs. Roddy Piper - The Rock vs. John Cena - Steve Austin vs. Bret Hart - The Undertaker vs. Randy Orton - Steve Austin vs. Shawn Michaels - Brock Lesnar vs. Roman Reigns - The Undertaker vs. Mankind - Trish Stratus vs. Lita

The Durrells : une famille anglaise à Corfou Saison 1, 2

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3 - Episode 4 - Episode 5 - Episode 6 - Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3 - Episode 4 - Episode 5 - Episode 6

Le Tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Totally Spies Saison 7

Attention : ceci n'est pas un test - Espionnes à l'ancienne - Alerte chat-pardeurs

Spectacles

Patate (1982) de Marcel Achard avec Pierre Mondy, Michel Duchaussoy, Marie Dubois, Pascale Audret, Clémentine Amouroux et Philippe Dehesdin

Imagine Dragons Chambord Live (2023)

Elvis: The Comeback Special (1968)

Nirvana: MTV Unplugged in New York (1993)

Les Pigeons (2022) de et avec Michel Leeb, et aussi Francis Huster, Chloé Lambert, Philippe Vieux

Livres

Batman : The Killing Joke d'Alan Moore et Brian Bolland

Red Skin, tome 1 : Welcome to America de Xavier Dorison et Terry Dodson

Red Skin, tome 2 : Jacky de Xavier Dorison et Terry Dodson

Le coureur et son ombre d'Olivier Haralambon

Détective Conan, tome 23 de Gôshô Aoyama

Détective Conan, tome 24 de Gôshô Aoyama

Conversations avec A d'Alex Lacquemanne

Kaamelott, tome 7 : Contre-attaque en Carmélide d'Alexandre Astier, Steven Dupré et Picksel

[diningwalldecor123]

  Behind The Design Primrose Hill The Wishing Chair

Earlier this year, The Wishing Chair team got together to watch the beautiful film Amélie – all of us instantly transported, even those of us who hadn’t even been, to hip Montmartre. There must be magic in moving pictures after all!

“These are tough times for dreamers” – Amélie

Speaking of Amélie, has there ever even been such a feel good, fun film? Leave aside the music, the cinematography, the overall atmosphere if you will, to arrive now at the story – a collection of seemingly insignificant yet astonishing events chronicled carefully in a diary by writer-director Jean-Pierre Jeunet for over 20 years, before they were compiled to make this heartbreakingly lovely piece of cinema.

Consider for instance the tagline of the film, “one person can change your life.” And you will find yourself in agreement with us, that Amélie’s destiny – if only on the big screen – is nothing short of fabulous. And it is this very fabulousness that inspired our latest collection, as well as this story dear reader –behind the scenes of the creative design process of ‘Primrose Hill’.

Process this!

Our story begins with a single pencil sketch of a Parisian window, followed up quickly by multiple doodles – think stained glass arches, curving balustrades, miniature planters on balconies bursting into bloom, wrought iron frames and grills so typically French, you wouldn’t believe! Are your feet wobbly under (imagined) cobbly streets yet?

Next up – the color render. We used various hues to fill in the illustrations, narrowing it down to soothing blue-green mint and classic lavender-grey, reminiscent of characteristically laid-back French suburbia – chic, yet strikingly unique – settling eventually, on the latter. Welcome to Primrose Hill everyone. Can anyone look at this enchanting collection and not swoon?

Inspired as much by the charming, hip streets of Montmartre and the carefree playfulness of Amélie, the film, we love how our latest line-up, brims over with quirky and heartening leitmotifs – Je t’aime.

Redolent as a summer that every girl deserves – fragrant mornings that involve a french press and a sunny, flower-filled alcove, paved pathways, perfect to ride a vintage red bicycle through, the aroma of freshly baked baguettes and cheese in every grocery store, “bonjour belle”s uttered with the tip of hats – Primrose Hill is exactly the kind of walk down memory lane you’ll love and hold close to your heart. And for those who haven’t already been, prepare to be transported! (Magic, remember?)

READ MORE...Home Decor Gifts Planter Vase Dining Wall Decor Tea Coffee Mugs – The Wishing Chair

[southangelvideos-blog-blog]

Overlooks - Island in the Sky - Canyonlands National Park - Utah

Island in the Sky, située dans le Parc National de Canyonlands en Utah, est une mesa large et plate située au sommet de falaises de grès abruptes qui s'élèvent à plus de 300 mètres au-dessus du terrain environnant.

Chaque point de vue offre une perspective différente sur le paysage étonnant de ce magnifique parc.

Shafer Canyon Overlooks 38.45982, -109.81996  Overlook 1 38.45270, -109.81811  Overlook 2

Ces deux belvédères sont érigés au bord de la mesa et nous permettent d'admirer le Shafer Canyon.  La Shafer Trail, une route en lacet, descend dans ce canyon situé à 426 mètres en contrebas.

The Neck 38.45109, -109.82076

On voit la route qui traverse une étroite bande de terre connue sous le nom de « The Neck ». Ce petit pont de pierre est tout ce qui relie Island in the Sky au reste de la terre.

Shafer Trail Viewpoint 38.44825, -109.82151

Ce belvédère offre une superbe vue sur la Shafer Trail qui serpente dans les parois vertigineuses de la falaise pour se rendre dans le canyon situé en contrebas.

Mesa Arch Overlook 38.38920, -109.86811  Stationnement 38.38804, -109.86349  Mesa Arch

Mesa Arch Trail est une très jolie arche qui surplombe Buck Canyon.  Cependant, il faut entreprendre une randonnée facile de 1,1 km en boucle pour l'admirer (https://youtu.be/H0WbNoav3xA).

Green River Overlook 38.37931, -109.88805  Stationnement 38.37833, -109.88833  Belvédère

Le Green River Overlook est un belvédère où l'on peut voir la Green River serpenter à travers le vaste bassin de Soda Springs.

Aztec Butte Trail 38.39347, -109.88205  Début du sentier 38.39529, -109.87987  Grenier 38.39730, -109.87471  Aztec Butte

Ce sentier modéré de 2,7 kilomètres aller/retour nous permet de découvrir un ancien grenier Anasazi d'où l'on bénéficie d'une vue sensationnelle sur Taylor Canyon ainsi qu'Aztec Butte au haut de laquelle un sentier en boucle offre de superbes points de vue sur le canyon, les nombreuses formations rocheuses ainsi que sur les montagnes La Sal (https://youtu.be/mVcU4VLAfBY).

Holeman Spring Canyon Overlook 38.41211, -109.90469

Un sentier de +/- 800 mètres aller retour qui mène à superbe point de vue sur le canyon. Nous devons stationner notre véhicule en bordure de la route pour entreprendre cette randonnée.

Alcove Spring 38.42309, -109.90878  Début du sentier 38.42372, -109.90742  Point de vue

Nous n'avons parcouru qu'une centaine de mètres sur ce sentier difficile de 18 km pour obtenir un joli point de vue sur le canyon.

Whale Rock Overlook 38.42677, -109.91400  Début du sentier 38.42831, -109.91695  Fin du sentier

Ce belvédère n'est accessible que par un sentier de randonnée de 1,3 km aller-retour qui monte sur un dôme de grès qui offre une vue à 360° sur Island in the Sky (https://youtu.be/idfKXmZgrVM).

Upheaval Dome Overlooks 38.42631, -109.92609  Début du sentier 38.42900, -109.92920  Point de vue 1 38.42972, -109.93376  Point de vue 2 et fin du sentier

Upheaval Dome Trail est un sentier modéré de 2 km aller-retour qui offre de jolis points de vue sur une formation géologique en forme de cratère dont le diamètre intérieur est de +/- 5 km et qui est situé à plus de 300 mètres de profondeur (https://youtu.be/las6uxMoUnA).

Candlestick Tower Overlook 38.37444, -109.86848

Ce belvédère offre une vue magnifique sur le parc, et plus particulièrement, sur une formation rocheuse appelée Candlestick Tower, une butte de grès de 140 mètres de hauteur.

Buck Canyon Overlook 38.34580, -109.86097  Stationnement 38.34596, -109.86021  Belvédère

Il ne s'agit que d'une promenade de 140 mètres aller-retour pour admirer une vue imprenable sur le canyon avec les montagnes de La Sal au loin.

White Rim Overlook 38.32277, -109.84951  Début du sentier 38.31995, -109.83524  Belvédère

L'une des meilleures vues orientées vers l'Est est certainement White Rim Overlook.  Ce belvédère est accessible par un sentier facile de 2,9 km aller-retour qui offre une vue panoramique sensationnelle sur le fleuve Colorado, Monument Basin et les montagnes de La Sal (https://youtu.be/2YwE8vkZR5Y).

Orange Cliffs Overlook 38.31365, -109.85700

Ce belvédère offre une vue panoramique sur le canyon de Green River.  On aperçoit les falaises de grès appelées Orange Cliffs qui sont situées dans le Glen Canyon ainsi que le secteur The Maze de Canyonlands qui s'étend vers le Sud.

Grand View Point Overlook Trail 38.31077, -109.85657  Début du sentier 38.31019, -109.85672  Belvédère 1 38.30333, -109.86781  Belvédère 2

Grand View Point Overlook Trail est un sentier de 3 kilomètres aller-retour qui offre des points de vue sur un réseau complexe de canyons creusés par la convergence du fleuve Colorado et de la rivière Green (https://youtu.be/8cwcOpRJhE0).

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[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 8: The Egg Festival

SATURDAY - SPRING 13 

True to the Sacred Timeline (as Shane had started to refer to it whenever Achilles brought it up), Strawberry Farms was well on its way out of the wilderness. Between Shane’s help, the occasional hand from the trio, and Alex who had stopped by Friday evening, everything was looking, as Achilles thought to himself, pretty damn good. One could finally walk across the land without having to make a detour around stray logs or boulders or weeds. 

In an alcove over by the western side of the farm, Achilles had ultimately kept a number of large, leafy oaks standing. He would have grinded the two thick tree stumps that Grandpa Dan had left behind out of the ground, but in a moment of inspiration during a midday search for shade, had decided to leave them as little chairs for sitting. To Pierre’s delight, he had purchased grass seeds to plant in the area, too. It could be… a fun sort of fairy garden for kids, or something. Put up a tire swing, plant some perennials… He had even ordered a small bird bath fountain. 

The repair company had finished the most pertinent mine cart route that morning, and Achilles had spent the better part of what was typically breakfast sending cart after cart from the bus stop down to Clint’s. That being said, an empty stomach was a small sacrifice to pay for no longer having to wheel 80 tons of rocks into Pelican Town and across the river. 

By noon, Achilles was knee deep in newly tilled flower beds, and loathing every second of it (not that he’d admit it to Shane)—if he hadn’t already been determined not to be a farmer, this really sealed the deal.

Yoba, why were there so many earthworms. Pink and slimy, wriggling their way through the dirt. Even during his lunch break, he hadn’t been able to escape their phantom crawl across his skin. And now, he thought, scowling at his latest victims squirming in the soil, there were two times as many damned worms as before (thanks to some overly-aggressive shovel work). 

“Disgusting, aren’t they,” Achilles said aloud, though nobody seemed to be there. He winced, flicking a few worms aside before stuffing a tulip bulb into the hole he had made. “Absolutely nauseating. Though they say they’re good for plant growth. Which perhaps you’d all like, I suppose?”

Ever since Shane had told him about the junimos, he’d had the peculiar sensation that someone was watching him. Even inside the farmhouse, Achilles hadn’t been able to shake his paranoia. Unperturbed however, and honestly more annoyed than afraid, he had simply decided to address his mysterious watcher head on. Perhaps the forest spirits wouldn’t mind his chatter. Perhaps they’d say something back. Or perhaps they’d grow tired of it all and leave him be. 

“Hey you! Achilles!” 

Achilles turned abruptly, spade brandished—a junimo? 

But no, to his slight disappointment, it was the grey mustache of none other than Lewis who was cresting over the small hill at the farm’s eastward entrance. 

“Good morning, Lewis—”

“Why aren’t you at the festival?” 

“Hmm?” Lewis or not, Achilles was happy to use this excuse to look away from the worms and stood to meet the mayor at the porch. 

“The Egg Festival! I left a note in your mailbox.” 

Ah. Achilles never checked the mail. But he didn’t see a need to share that right now, not to someone whose mustache was bristling this hard, so he simply responded with, “Oh, the festival. Of course. Well, I’m working.” 

“Huh?” 

“I’m… working.” Achilles waved his gloved hands down towards the pile of flowers waiting to be planted. “I have to clean the property up if I want to sell it—”

 “It’s a festival day, nobody should be working. Come on down, we’ve been waiting for you.” 

“Pardon? Waiting for me? Why?” Achilles laughed politely. “I don’t need to be there, do I?” 

Lewis’ mustache dipped dramatically to this sides as he frowned. 

“Well… everybody comes out to these things.” Then he puffed himself up and adjusted his newsboy cap. “We’ve got folks from all over Zuzu who visit, and it’s a good way for us villagers to show those outsiders our sense of community. You know, show them what a great place Stardew really is. We’d love for you to be there, too.” 

“Ah, I see.” Achilles dusted the dirt from his gloves and took a suggestive step back down from the porch. “Well, Lewis, I really appreciate the invitation, but I’m afraid I have quite a few things I need to get done before dinner tonight—Evelyn and George have been kind enough to invite me over.” He shot Lewis what he hoped was a bright enough smile before grabbing his spade and making his way back to the pit of worms and tulips. “But please tell everyone I said hello!” 

“You come down and tell them yourselves!” Lewis, now clearly cross, folded his arms and gave a mean little stare. “It’s the first festival of the year—your grandpa and your dad never missed a single one when they lived here, you know.” 

Not the grandpa card! And his father—who had been a literal child at the time…

Achilles turned to face him, gearing up to fight back—how dare this sorry excuse for a mayor command him to waste a valuable day watching children hunt for eggs.

“Listen, Lewis, like I said, I really appreciate you coming out here to invite me like this, but I’m on a bit of a tight schedule— ” 

“I’m not leaving until you come with me to Pelican Town right now!” 

All right, fuck you, too.  

He was ready to throw politeness out the window, but a glance at the growing, wriggling pit of earthworms (truly, where in the world were they coming from?) weakened his resolve. And the sky—oh, such an effortless blue, not a single cloud…

He was way ahead of the Sacred Timeline (he hadn’t been entirely truthful about being on a tight schedule), perhaps it’d be good to… take a brief break. 

Swallowing his retort, he set his shovel gently on the ground with a sigh. “I should change.” 

“Hey now, maybe you’ll meet some nice out of towners,” Lewis called as Achilles made for the farmhouse. The old man’s eyes had softened just a smidge at Achilles’ surrender, but there was still a tinge of suspicion as he followed Achilles closely back onto the porch. Gross. Get away. “Maybe even a prospective buyer. We have folks from all over come out, you know. I’ll just wait out here for ya.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Achilles muttered for his (and any watching junimos’) ears only, shutting his front door behind him with as much bitterness good manners allowed. 

*****

Twenty minutes later, dressed in khakis and a button down featuring pastel orange rabbits, he accompanied Lewis back into Pelican Town, which had been brightly decorated for the occasion. 

Maypoles wrapped in flowery vines had been erected through the square alongside long tables piled high with deviled eggs, egg salads, frittatas, quiches—multiple chicken coops’ worth of eggs— and clothed in a lovely pistachio green. 

It wasn’t uncomfortably crowded, but the town’s population of 30 (give or take) had definitely at least quadrupled in size. A sea of pastel people.

Good choice with the shirt. 

Contrary to what Lewis had said though, he had definitely not been missed. Nobody shouted his name or said hello, he hadn’t waltzed in to any sort of applause. In fact, the mayor himself had straight up abandoned him after Achilles had firmly turned down the offer of a basket for the upcoming egg hunt.

At 5’11” (well, maybe 5’10” if you discounted his hair) Achilles wasn’t short, but he still struggled to locate a familiar face as he maneuvered among the crowd, squeezing past children with face paint while politely smiling at their harried parents and dodging rabbit-shaped balloons. 

A flash of dull purple hair caught his attention after a few minutes, and he gently pushed his way closer to what seemed to be a photo-op. Someone dressed in a giant pink rabbit suit was posing with children in front of a flower-filled backdrop.

“Hey, Shane!” he called, raising his hand in greeting. The man was currently waiting in the line with a young girl; it must’ve been his goddaughter, Jas. They supposedly weren’t related by blood, but she shared Shane’s purple hair, hers currently pulled into two short pigtails. 

His greeting had caught Shane’s attention, but after also catching his eye, Shane proceeded to look stubbornly away. 

Achilles scowled. “Ok that’s fine…” He turned back north towards the food tables. Perhaps he’d be able to grab a bite and sneak back to the farm… 

“Heard you aren’t participating in the egg hunt.” 

Another shock of purple hair—this one attached to a much friendlier face—had appeared. Leave it to Abigail to track him down, she always seemed to be just a hair’s breadth away. 

“Don’t be a party pooper, bro, everyone participates, it’s just about to start.” 

“Hello, Abigail.” Achilles stuffed his hands in his pockets upon seeing the extra basket in her hand. That didn’t seem to dissuade her though, as she waved it in his face, the green and purple ribbons whipping his nose. “Ah. I don’t believe it’d be quite fair for me to compete against children in an egg hunt.” 

“Fine, but your loss.” She popped her bubble gum and stacked her baskets. “There’s usually a pretty fab prize.” 

Just as she finished her sentence, Lewis had taken to a stage that had been erected by the side of the saloon, clearing his throat into the mic: participants in the annual Egg Hunt should please head over to the center of the square, right next to Meteor Elementary’s art gallery.  

“Does she… at least go easy on them?” New habits died hard, too, it would seem. He had spoken aloud to no one in particular as he watched Abigail sprint full speed to the graveyard at Lewis’ whistle, her stride double that of the scrambling children left in her wake. 

“That wouldn’t be very Abby now, would it,” came Alex’s voice from beside him. 

Achilles jumped. Alex and Penny—a Pelican Town ginger whom Alex had introduced Achilles to last week (Alex just knew all the women, didn’t he)—had joined him by the face-paint tent.

“Oh, hello, didn’t see you there.” He made some space so the two could stand next to him as they watched the carnage unfold. Alex’s hands, Achilles noticed, were gripping Penny’s shoulders. “I suppose you’re right, it wouldn’t…” 

“Elderflower soda?” A teacher at the local elementary school, Penny had a sweet face that matched her light, breathy voice, although the dark circles under her eyes seemed to suggest there was something else at play beneath her sunny disposition. She handed him a glass, just as Abigail “accidentally” sent a young tween sprawling. 

“Is this allowed? It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” said Achilles lightly, taking a sip as Alex moved to stand in between the two. 

“Abigail at the Egg Festival or Abigail in general?” 

Achilles made a rather noncommittal noise. She had been a friendly face, all things considered. Very welcoming. But… 

“I get it. She’s great! In small doses.” Alex flashed him a conspiratorial grin. “Don’t worry, I know Penny’s not a fan.” He bumped her shoulder with his, causing the soda to spill slightly. 

Penny’s mouth tightened as she searched for a more diplomatic phrase. “I never said I wasn’t a ‘fan,’ Alex. I just think she’s…” 

Achilles lips couldn’t help but turn upwards just a bit, but his smile was quickly dampened as Abigail herself came barreling past, screaming at the top of her lungs in what may have been an intimidation tactic. “Young. She’s… young.” 

*****

All in all, she indeed did not go easy on the kids, swooping in twenty minutes later with 28 eggs, having bulldozed her way past Vincent, Jas, and the other visiting children alike on her road to victory. 

Achilles watched her claim her “pretty fab prize” (a straw hat) with a vague sense of nausea, but his well practiced poker face failed to betray his feelings of secondhand embarrassment. 

*****

The festival passed fairly quickly after that. Achilles had managed to dodge Abigail and her antics after the egg hunt, but still found himself bullied into getting his picture taken with the Egg Festival Rabbit (whom he strongly suspected from the smell was Willy, the local fisherman who owned the fish shop along the beach) by none other than Mayor Lewis. 

“Be a team player, Achilles.” He had hurled the words from across the food table. “We are a community.” 

There was in fact quite a lot of bullying going around today, Achilles thought ruefully to himself as he checked the time on his cell. That reminded him, he still needed to order a new battery for his watch… should’ve added that to the Sacred To-Do list (Shane had re-named that as well)… 

But after getting bullied into purchasing some strawberry seeds by Demetrius (“Correct me if I’m wrong, but your farm is called ‘Strawberry Farms,’ if I’m not mistaken?) and some sort of thick stalked, seasonal plant by Pierre (“You’ve got to liven up that house somehow”) it was finally time. 7 o’clock. Dinner with the Mullners.

Alex had introduced him to Grandma Evelyn and Grandpa George last week shortly after the Mine Endeavor (as Achilles had dubbed it in his head), but it had been very quick—Evelyn had been in a bit of a rush to get back to something left in the oven and George had merely hacked a loogie and told him to buzz off after a curt hello. But it was all smiles this time as he entered the foyer of 1 River Road. Except, oh fuck, he had left the bottle of wine he had purchased for the occasion back at home. Fucking Lewis, messing with his plans… 

Showing up empty handed now, you idiot…

“Oh, you look just like your grandfather did when he was your age!” Evelyn exclaimed with a warm, if frail, embrace. “He was such a handsome man!” 

At this, Grandpa George had huffed, but he gave Achilles a smart nod and said, “Good to see you again, young man.” 

“Likewise, you as well, George—oh, but who is this!” Achilles gasped as a chunky brown dog came tottering its way through the brightly lit hall, paws clattering on the hardwood floors. 

“Dusty! Come here, boy!” Alex knelt down as Dusty the dog burrowed his head into Achilles’ waiting lap, wriggling into his khakis. “Oh, he likes you.” 

“Dusty likes everybody,” George grunted. 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true…” 

“What kind of dog is he?” Achilles asked, scratching behind Dusty’s long ears. 

“Not entirely sure, we figure maybe part beagle just cause of the ears, but he’s so big. The pound thought maybe part German Shepherd?” 

“He is a big boy, aren’t you, Dusty? Aren’t you?” Yoba, he missed dogs. They had had a number growing up, but in Hyacinthia, he had spent so much time in the office he had felt it’d be irresponsible to adopt one.

“Well you boys have fun now, George and I’ll finish up here,” Evelyn said, making her way back to the kitchen as Dusty, excited at the unusually exorbitant amount of attention, began to whine and drool steadily on Achilles’ arm. “I do apologize, dear, I thought this casserole would be ready in time, but someone forgot to purchase onions!” Over by the pantry, George rolled his eyes and gnashed his dentures.

“Oh no, no problem whatsoever.” Achilles immediately stood, following her while surreptitiously wiping his sleeve against the side of his pants. “How can I help?” 

“Oh, nonsense, dear! We’re just about almost done, you and Alex go have fun, we’ll call you down.” 

“No, really, happy to help—let me set the table—”

“You’ll be more of a nuisance than assistance,” George grunted yet again. The long knife in his hand caused Achilles to take an unconscious step back. “This woman is very particular about how she runs things in here, you take my word for it—you don’t much look like someone who knows their way around a kitchen anyway. Now you two go hang out or whatever the kids call it these days.” 

 And so, feeling like he was in middle school all over again, Achilles found himself following Alex down the hall, Dusty traipsing behind them. A handful of crooked photographs lined the walls—Alex in a grid ball uniform, baby Alex laughing on a swing set, high school Alex at prom with an unmistakably gorgeous teenage Haley… 

“My room,” Alex said, opening the door rather sheepishly. “Um, we can just chill here, if that’s good with you. We don’t have people over too often…” 

It was large; judging from Achilles’ estimation of the house’s dimensions (which he now found himself subconsciously doing ever since toiling over the farm’s proportions), it must’ve been the master bedroom.

Interesting. 

Yellow gridball wallpaper covered the walls under faded posters of bodybuilders and other sports stars. Charts displaying the alphabet and multiplication tables hung next to a nearly-bare desk, while a small row of stuffed animals and action figures lined the window, painfully neat. Similar to how he had described Abigail just hours earlier, the room felt… young. 

Alex took a seat on the bed and looked determinedly at the slightly discolored orange rug that Dusty had decided to lie on. 

“You play?” asked Achilles, nodding at the wallpaper, more to break the silence than anything else. “I saw the picture in the hall.” 

“Yeah, in middle school, a bit in high school. I’ll still throw a ball around with Sam every once in awhile, but was actually kinda more of a swimmer, I guess…” Alex trailed off, biting his lip as he leaned back on his bed, fingers digging into the red duvet. “Grandma put the paper up when I moved here.” 

“Oh, how long have you been with them?” 

“Since I was 12.” But if Achilles had wanted to know more, Alex was being unusually cagey.

Clocking the discomfort, Achilles swiftly walked over to a tall bookshelf across from the door. Books! Always a great neutral topic… “A ha, this is where it’s at.”

His fingers danced across the spines—pausing at the books he recognized, taking a second here or there to savor the selections of this mini library—until they found, with a small thrill, there on the second shelf from the top, a well read copy of Henry Spector and the Main Street Manor. 

He gently pulled it out. Holding it out in front of chest, cover facing away from him, he did a bit of a half-jig towards Alex who seemed to instantly relax. He stood from his bed and took the chapter book from Achilles. 

“I told you I wasn’t lying.” Alex tapped the cover. “I was a big fan.” 

“Was?” Achilles said in mock outrage, returning to the shelf where he gestured at the other five books in the series, each with its own well-creased spine. 

Alex laughed, face beaming as he pulled them all out one by one, turning to stack them atop the desk. “Was, am—you’ll have to sign these now, you know.” He handed Achilles a fountain pen. How perfect, he had always preferred signing with those… 

“And who shall I make it out to, young man?” Achilles took the chair Alex had pulled out for him. He scooted it forward, noticing, as he reached for the first book, a small framed photograph of what must have been a toddler Alex laughing in the arms of a kind faced, young woman. 

“Hey, you know what? Surprise me. Write whatever you want.” Alex’s grin was wide. “You know, 15 year old me would be dying right now.” 

Swiftly readjusting his gaze from the photo, Achilles opened the first book to the title page and signed, “To Alex. My only fan. Achilles Desrosiers.” 

“Okay, well that’s a little depressing.” Alex leaned on his arms atop the desk, squinting over Achilles’ shoulder. “Seb’s a fan, too.” 

To one of my two fans. -Achilles Desrosiers 

Alex took the second book from him and watched closely as Achilles signed something equally pathetic in the third. 

“Hey, write something a little happier, will you?” Alex smacked Achilles on the head with Henry Spector and the Ghoul in School (#3). “I won’t stand for my favorite author ever doing this to himself.” 

To my rudest fan, who violently assaulted me in the head with the book preceding this one. -Achilles Desrosiers.  

“You were a Ferngill Times bestselling author,” Alex groaned after a minute, leaning back against the desk as Achilles feverishly scribbled a note in the fifth book in the series, somehow already back in the heightened rhythm of book signings. “Didn’t you have a TV deal at some point? What happened to that?” 

A sharp inhale. Achilles gripped the sixth novel (Henry Spector’s Final Phantom), his knuckles white against the paperback as he took a pause from signing. Taking a deep but silent breath, he flipped rapidly through the pages, letting them flow meditatively against his thumb as the scent of the yellowed paper lightly washed over him.

It was an unusual edition—he noticed that now, flipping through. Left justified, wide margins, an unusual, cartoonish sans serif font. 

A long-buried memory resurfaced; a special edition of the series had been printed as a part of his publisher’s celebration of National Dyslexia Month. Huh. Well that explained why Alex hadn’t read Apparition, since according to Eddie Bloomsbury, Apparition was “a struggle to read for even the most capable readers…”

He pushed out those thoughts and flipped through the book again until he landed at the cover page. 

To Alexander Mullner, my favorite neighbor in Stardew Valley. Thanks for reading. -Achilles Desrosiers 

“Alex is short for Alexander, right?” Achilles asked, fountain pen resting against his chin. Fool, should’ve checked first. 

Alex, who was still taking a beat to decipher Achilles’ pointy handwriting, nodded.

“Well, there you have it,” Achilles said, popping the cap back on the pen and taking all six books into his hands. “Thank you for coming to the signing.” He headed back to the shelf and slid them neatly in place.  

“No, thank you, really!” Alex moved to clap Achilles on the back but smacked air instead, as the latter had knelt down to get a better look at the rest of the shelf. 

“You’ve got a lot of good stuff here,” Achilles said, but he didn’t touch anything further. Digging around had already been rather impolite, he thought to himself with minor embarrassment. It’s not like they were friends…

Friendly, sure, but friends… 

From behind him, he heard a sigh. He could see out of the corner of his eye Alex shuffle his feet. “You know, I haven’t actually read most of the books on this shelf.” 

Achilles stood back up to full height and glanced at Alex who was bitting his lip again and running a hand through the gel in his hair. “Hmm?” 

“Yeah, I mean I’ve read your stuff of course, and some of the other stuff down there… but like I’m not a… great reader. It’s why I used to listen to a lot of stuff on tape.” 

“For sure, I get it.”  

It was Alex’s turn to kneel, his hands digging around for something on the cluttered bottom shelf. 

“Sometimes I get worried, you know. About, I don’t know, being stupid or something. Worthless…” 

“You’re not stupid—” 

“My mom got me into comics though, when I was a kid. She thought maybe it’d be easier. A ha.” He had found what he had been looking for and pulled out from the back of the shelf a stack of colorful comic books emblazoned with various super heroes and villains. “Haven’t really kept up, so these are pretty old. Gotta wonder how much they’re worth now—not that I’d sell them, of course— but they were fun. Used to draw my own.”  

“Oh yeah? No way, me too.” Achilles knelt down next to him, sifting through the bright covers. “Nimbus was my favorite, I think.” 

“Wait seriously? Me too!” Alex shuffled through the stacks and pulled out a couple thin volumes featuring a blue-caped superhero flying among the clouds. 

“A thing like that.” Achilles took the volume Alex was offering. “It pushed me down a serious weather rabbit hole, I wanted to be a weatherman like Zedd so badly… I can still probably name you all the different types of clouds.” 

Dusty, inspired by their laughter, trotted over and took a seat between them. 

“Wow, I haven’t looked through these in years,” Alex murmured, just the tiniest glint in his eyes as he flipped through the Nimbus volume in his hands. From his position, Achilles could make out familiar panels featuring a showdown between Nimbus and arch-nemesis, Tsai Clone. Flashes of neon blue, green, and pink were likely Zedd Finch, Nimbus’ best friend (and side kick, depending on the era). The hero’s on-again off-again girlfriend, Meg Maizel, had her own cover, the history-making volume now peaking out from under Dusty’s paws. 

Achilles joined him in flipping through an issue with his own hearty dose of nostalgia. It had been awhile for him, too. 

After a minute or two, Alex began to neatly stack the comics and set them gently back on the bottom shelf. 

“When I moved in with my grandparents they tried to get me to read like, real books and stuff. But it just gave me a headache—I mean, it’s my fault, I know I could’ve been better about practicing and stuff…” Alex reached to pet Dusty as the dog settled into his lap. “It’s not that I don’t want to read—like some of my favorite TV shows and movies and stuff are based on books, of course I want to read them some day… I don’t know. It’s annoying. And I guess I’m just too… lazy to really sit down and try to do it…” 

“Do you still listen to things on tape? Maybe while you exercise.” Achilles nodded at the neat stack of weights in the corner. “Although I get it if you don’t like doing that, I usually jog in silence.” 

“No, yeah, I usually listen to stuff, but mostly music, easier to concentrate. And those books are so long, you know? And my headphones are also messed up—I’m just making excuses now, aren’t I?” Alex laughed lightly as Dusty stuffed his nose up his shirt. “Hey, excuse you, Dusty.”

Shit, can I be Dusty?

Stop that, you perv. 

“Well… we all have our strengths and weaknesses.” Achilles shrugged, nodding once again at the weights. 

“Sure, and my strength is being able to row 2000 meters in six and a half minutes and yours is being able to read a menu without wanting to gouge your eyes out. Which one’s more helpful in life, do you think?”

Alex had half-spat the words—some sarcasm, sure, he had come to expect, but Achilles had never heard Alex so… bitter before. 

Assuming (and hoping) the question was rhetorical and deciding he’d give Alex a beat of figurative privacy, Achilles began to focus on brushing Dusty’s tail with his fingers. 

We all have our strengths and weaknesses…

When he was younger, his parents had emphasized that the ideal career for any individual, what one should ideally want to pursue and commit to in life in order to maximize success, lay at the intersection of three different points: 1) what you were good at, i.e. your strengths, 2) what you enjoyed doing, i.e. your interests, and 3) what there was a market for, i.e. what society valued. 

Those words—while well intentioned, and meant to educate more so than intimidate—had nevertheless plagued Achilles over the years and were partly the reason why he was in Stardew Valley stripping paint and carving up worms to begin with, rather than making six figures at a desk over in Hyacinthia. 

He hadn’t quit in a blaze of anti-capitalistic glory fueled by an eagerness to escape a soul-crushing job and find solace and meaning from the natural world. No, it had been much simpler than that, the reasons far less admirable. 

“Sorry.” At Alex’s voice, Achilles glanced up from the small pile of fur he had managed to absentmindedly brush from Dusty. His host’s eyes and tone both had brightened to their usual selves once again.

“Didn’t mean to complain. You’re right, of course—strengths, weaknesses and all that, everyone’s different.” Achilles had to hold back his snort. “But hey, who knows. Maybe I’ll take another crack at the books and one day we’ll be able to have dinner and discuss… phi-lo-so-phy. Isn’t that what you smart people talk about?” 

“You’re smart, Alex,” Achilles said in a softer tone than he had intended. 

“Eh, you can’t really make a decent living in this world without a brain, I’ll tell you that,” Alex said with a whistle that caught Dusty’s attention. “Hey, speaking of which, you need to stop by the gym some time. Can’t remember if I told you, I teach classes down at Orange Grove over in Zuzu, you should swing by.” 

That explained the mini-first aid kit he had had in his duffel that day down in the mines. 

“Swing by? Why? Are you calling me weak?” Achilles narrowed his eyes in mock anger. “Or are you paid based on class attendance and need me to help you in your quest for a brainless decent living?” 

“Ha ha, very funny. No, I’ve been trying for years to get people from the Valley to stop by but people rarely ever do… it’s just nice to see a face from home, you know?” 

There was a knock at the door. They hadn’t closed it behind them and George was lurking in the doorway.

“Dinner’s ready, boys.” 

“Perfect timing, thank you, George,” Achilles said as Alex gestured for him to exit the room first. “Alex here is ready to discuss philosophy.” 

[tynatunis]

"Nous sommes animés par notre passion pour l'art et les artistes". Voilà notre point commun avec les propriétaires de cette maison essentiellement Artfully Dans un coin bucolique du Connecticut, un couple de collectionneurs associe deux maisons modernes du milieu du siècle dernier pour en faire un lieu de retraite pour les amateurs d'art aventureux et les artistes de passage. PAR TED LOOS Photo Tim Lenz @galeriemagazine Auerbach et Tang ont mélangé des trouvailles vintage de choix, signées Pierre Jeanneret, Charlotte Perriand et Breuer lui-même, avec des créations avant-gardistes de designers tels que Max Lamb, Marc Newson et les frères Campana. Visual 1 An Austin Eddy painting hangs on the Marcel Breuer bookshelves, which feature Charlotte Perriand sconces along the top and display ceramics and objects from the couple’s collection. Visual 2 A sofa and cocktail table by BDDW stand atop a Tuareg mat rug in the home’s living room, where artworks by (from left) Elizabeth Glaessner, Cecily Brown, and Vojtěch Kovařík hang on the far wall; the table lamps are by Anouska Hempel, and the floor sculpture is by Yu Ji.PHOTO: TIM LENZ. STYLED BY PHILIPPA BRATHWAITE Visual 3 A Max Lamb table and chairs and a Tajh Rust canvas inside the Stillman House Visual 4 In the artist residency studio, an Umar Rashid painting presides over a seating area with a Marcel Breuer cocktail table and chairs joined by Lena Henke steel-mesh side tables; a Campana Brothers cabinet in synthetic raffia stands next to a floor lamp by XYZ Design from Pearl Lam Galleries.  Visual 5 The home’s dining alcove, furnished with a Pierre Chapo table and Pierre Jeanneret chairs, features a circular painting by Rachel Eulena Williams.  https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm01gRIN82O/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[glennk56]

French Chub Actors in the early 20th Century

Pierre Alcover. Unlike most of the chubs in early French cinema, Pierre was not a comedian. He was a big, strong hulking man who often played violent roles, in silents and talkies.

[oldfilmsflicker]

L’Argent, 1928 (dir. Marcel L'Herbier)

[manwithpipe]

L'Hirondelle et la Mésange (André Antoine, 1920)

[frankenpagie]

8.19.17

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

Green Boots

The body of “Green Boots,” an Indian climber who died on Everest in 1996 and is believed to be Tsewang Paljor - although the body has not been officially identified - lies near a cave that all climbers must pass on their way to the peak. Green Boots now serves as a waypoint marker that climbers use to gauge how near they are to the summit. Green Boots met his end after becoming separated from his party. He sought refuge in a mountain overhang, but to no avail. He sat there shivering in the cold until he died.

The term Green Boots originated from the green Koflach mountaineering boots on his feet. All expeditions from the north side encounter the body curled in the limestone alcove cave at 8,500 m (27,900 ft) - very close to the summit.

The first recorded video footage of Green Boots was filmed on 21 May 2001 by French climber Pierre Paperon. In the video, Green Boots is shown lying on his left side, facing toward the summit. According to Paperon, Sherpas told him that it was the body of a Chinese mountaineer who had attempted the climb six months earlier.

Over time, the corpse became known both as a landmark on the north route and for its association with the death of David Sharp. In May 2014, Green Boots' body was reported to be missing from view, presumably removed or buried. It reappeared, however, in 2017.

[kikuism]

hi mariam!! 💛💛💛 okay so since i've got art on the top of my head from mister impossible and blue period, do you have any paintings or works of art in general that you associate with kikou? 😳🎨

hi jenna!! 💞💖💝

ooooh art!!!! Yes!!!! i love this question 🎨🖌🤍 here are ten paintings that remind me of kikou 💕

1) Lovers Walking in the Snow, Suzuki Harunobu

i just adore this painting so much. the serene tranquility and simplicity of the snow, the contrasting black and white of their robes, the umbrella...it's the quiet beauty of the moment. these lovers are utterly absorbed in their love 💘

2) Les Sabots, François Boucher

this painting is at my local art gallery!! it's pretty tiny in person, but the moment i saw the domestic sweetness in this it was instant kikou vibes. it's like the cherry version of sharing orange slices with the love of your life 🍒

3) Springtime, Pierre-Auguste Cot

this piece is so sweet. the soft golden light filtering in from the trees makes it feel like a fairytale illustration. the way they're gazing at each other, the way her arms are around him. they have all the time in the world in this moment, unbothered and unhurried. it's the epitome of young love.

4) In Bed: The Kiss, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

the tenderness...i can feel how cozy the blankets are. the way their arms are around each other. it reminds me of a lazy slow morning. since kiku can't really spend an entire night in kou's chambers without inciting suspicion, honestly, this is what his dreams are made of. waking up in kou's arms, flush with sleep and warmth.

5) The Kiss, Gustav Klimt

need i say more?? this is tenderness. the way he cups her face makes me weak in the knees. one day i might just snap and get kikou commissioned in this pose.

6) The Love Letter, Jean Honoré Fragonard

not kikou vibes per se, but very kiku!!!! the lighting, the warmth!! the vivid blush...she looks so pleased and delighted 🤍🤍🤍 i adore this painting, it always makes me smile.

7) Romantic Encounter, Mihaly Zichy

strong vampire au vibes!!! in fact i found this painting while working on it :'0 the wings, the way it looks like she just throws herself into his arms without a care in the world. the open window that suggests where he's come from. i love the atmosphere.

8) Paolo and Francesca, Anselm Feuerbach

i love this painting because it's domestic sweetness again. she's reading and he's listening with his arm draped around her, surrounded by lush foliage in what appears to be a secret little alcove. kiku loves reading to kou, and i like to imagine he reads to him in a secret little place like this, surrounded by flowers, in the little slivers of time they can both spare from their duties 📚💕

9) Stolen Kiss, Jean Honoré Fragonard

i adore the details here...the lighting, the lavish opulence in the room—the rug, her scarf, the draperies, her dress, the way she's left the group of women in the room to share a little stolen moment with her lover. i can totally imagine kiku excusing himself from the company of other court members to share a secret kiss with kou, just in the next room over, which feels very #scandalous.

10) Romeo and Juliette, Francis Dicksee

this list wouldn't be complete without the og forbidden lovers themselves :')) this painting is just the epitome of sneaking out to meet your lover.