#zelimir

[bulevar-revolucije]

tako se kalio celik (1988) dir. zelimir zilnik // gummo (1997) dir. harmony korine

[davidhudson]

Happy 82nd, Želimir Žilnik.

[frnndlcs]

Nezaposleni ljudi, Želimir Žilnik, 1968

[imnotjellyatall-art]

one day, i will do right by you.

[zorkaya-moved]

" you want my soul, huh? " the man laughs, his laughter empty and grotesque, "first, you should make sure i have one, whisperer of the dead! how can i, a whole fraud of an empty person, even have such a thing? i'm a soulless tool before all else. " ( chief zelimir also for unhingelino oak )

@sortilegii

Empty laughter of a jester in the face of Death is only met with a soft yet similarly cold smile ever-present on her gorgeous face. The porcelain skin and her cold touch make others shiver in their place when she reaches out to touch them, embraced by the Abyss and the Mania, Oak Casket watches and listens as she always does. Chief of the MBCC is a life full of brightness, color, and maniacal existence. A bomb waiting to explode on everyone who prides themselves to be brave to stand so close without any worry for their own well-being. His gaze looks forward and he almost seems insane in his speech to her, but the Listener accepts him as he is, not caring about the loud words and proclamations of soullessness. All have souls, all will face Death, all will someday return to her and will never escape the grasps of Death. Well, no one but those she chooses to truly save. The chirping bird, the tool, the never-ending color of life.

And as he laughs and looks at her with determination and monsters in his eyes, suppressed by the human flesh, Oak Casket chuckles lowly as she cups his face with her gloved hand. His heat from life and flame of rebellion will satiate her curiosity and her interests for a while, a being who is known among the dead and the corrupted. He is just like them, searching for a place to belong in this vast world of the living. However, the Listener does not care for the world of the living as much as she is intrigued by what everyone speaks about after their Death. Corpses, ashes, blood and destruction are what feeding her ability and her Mania, all are her fascinations and this young man, too, will be one of the whispers she'd love to hear in her ear.

After all, she is a Maniac. A maniac who is obsessed with Death, in love with the afterlife and the music of those whispers that are brought through screams, broken bones, and crackling of the flames. Someone, Chief will hear her sing and it'll be a song of Wild and Horrors, of Death and Lullabies, of Life and Disgust. For if Death did not recruit her among the bodies in the Mass Grave, she'd be the songstress of the end instead of lulling the dead to sleep in the cemetery.

"You've passed my trial, you've shown me the soul so stubborn and so adamant that I'll wait for it until the last dying breath you take," she still holds his face in her hands, her lips curl into a more chilling smile. There is obsession in her eyes, this man who screams so loudly to Heavens that he'll bring Hell up is fascinating to her and she wants to hear his secrets when he crosses the line and becomes hers, and only hers. She will be the final witness to his existence, a Sinner who will truly have everyone in the grasp of her own hand. Everything after Death will belong to her: his life, his death, and his last words. Everything. "Your soul is unimportant as a concept, I want your life, your death, and your story. You've signed the contract and you already belong to me. Past the day when Death embraces you, you'll always be mine."

Then, Oak Casket lets go of Zelimir and steps back, holding back another surge of obsessive interest. The Mania surges within and she wants to laugh out loud just like he did but the laughter would've been cold and coldly embracing, impossible to run away and forcing even the strongest of the voices to hide in fear for the Abyssal Whispers will kneel before her just to be heard, so they won't anger the only one who can hear them. But the Romanesque Hall Manager does not laugh; instead, she smiles once again and keeps her hands locked on her stomach, eyes gleaming with sparks of Mania before settling down.

"It does not matter if you have a soul or not in your eyes, I will take everything from you. Your monstrosity, your egoism, your insanity, and your last dying breath. No matter what you become in the end," she lifts her right hand and plays with her cross that hangs over the pretty silver chain before another chuckle leaves her akin to a mysterious mist. "I will welcome you and wait for you."

[ange-chan93]

{ Evening at the pub}

This is an illustration dedicated to Guilty Rose's lovely boys, Felix and Jonathan enjoy their drink and talk at the Sleepy Turkey From Guilty Rose, our medieval novel! I hope you like it!!^^ You can learn more about the story and see more pictures on the following pages: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GuiltyR.FW Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/guilty.rosefw/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR0NYp58RVRuJ971RjOWEB2C_DwAgYCa2mFKRXYDuiAuR6mi9MhaFOF7v4A_aem_AeJZ9DrAVvuUcDdTcJ4-gtIbjX6xPqkR1js6uMf4eJFQE6HPCyVkTKs_oPoSLcJAf91UULXm2Azvgg7Q5fT0DA2A You can follow us if you wish ^^

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Did you know Eastern Bluebirds represent hope, joy, positivity, and renewal?

Seeing the feathers of an Eastern Bluebird means the solution to all of your problems is right in front of your eyes--and has been for some time--but you've ignored it. Perhaps Doc's regrets aren't as cut and dry as he believes them to be.

Hey! So sorry for being so quiet lately I've just been busy and exhausted. But! Not to worry, I am working on some stuff; both "Tombsona" and "Devil May Cry" related. I did manage to get my friend--who's going to the (The) Living Tombstone concert with me--into the whole Tombsona lore stuff. I ended up info-dumping on her for like 3 hours. I have fallen back into this hyper-fixation so damned hard that it's kinda freaky lmao So for those of you who don't know me from my last TLT stint, get ready. I am about to rant and babble about this so hard. Especially about Doc lmao

[dijetemjeseca]

[soulsballad]

Name: Zelimir, but you call me babygirl, yours, whatever you like.

Age: no clue about that.

Do you like to cuddle?: I suppose so.

Can we make-out?: yes, please! I think you're pretty, and I'd be down for that.

A night in or dinner out?: Out. I honestly don't like the Bureau environment, makes me feel like I'm locked in here, too.

Whip cream or chocolate syrup?: 😏

Chocolates and roses?: absolutely! what gentleman doesn't do this right?

What makes you a good Valentine?: I will be honest, nothing. but, hey, I'm willing to overlook all your smuggling actions from the past month within the Bureau. does that work with you?

Would you cook for me?: No.

Would you let me cook for you?: that won't be necessary.

Where would you take me on a date?: a nice diner, then I want us to go out and dance. I will trust you know a good place.

Who’s paying?: me, of course.

What did you get me for Valentine’s Day?: a nice night out, we can have the wildest fun you could ever imagine. if you like, you can even stab me. ( for Bai Yi )

❝ well, babygirl, you sure do seem keen, ❞ bai yi grins in amusement as she reads through the application, one hand holding her head up as her chin rests almost tiredly upon it. ❝ i'm curious just what you think we'll be doing with the whipped cream or chocolate syrup though? something lewd judging but that grin. ❞ and oddly enough, bai yi didn't mind. as long as he cleaned her up afterwards. but the offer of a nice night out, away from the mbcc, having dinner and dancing the night away, then whatever that led to, sounded very appealing. ❝ you know, when you talk like this it makes me quite glad to have been arrested and brought here, chief. i quite like your special treatment~ ❞ it's nothing more than flirting, but it's fun. ❝ hmm... alright then, handsome, your application is accepted. whoo me. ❞

[char-writes]

“The paintings don’t do them credit.” Zelimir nods toward the mountains with a soft smile. “Never stopped me from trying to capture their likeness, though. When I was younger, I thought painting the big things would make them seem smaller. Really, though, it just told how big they really are.”

-- Dandelion, Dandelion

[clockwork-sparrow]

Tales from the Frost

Stories following the conclusion of the RP Arc, TOWER.

Stories: 1 2 [3] 4

Dear Zelimir

Dear Zelimir,

We’re coming. Sorry it took almost three decades. Life’s stranger than fiction nowadays and there’s a lot for us to catch up on. Like how I ended up traveling with your murderer to find your resting place, for starters.

Civil war burned Garlemald to cinders, but we survived. Something incomprehensible possessed the world and turned the sky red, but we survived that, too. You always said I was tenacious, but I don’t think you meant it’d be enough to weather two apocalypses.

Somewhere in the middle, we (the Tappers. Sofi misses you too, you know) stumbled on a weird town of magitek, complete with a freaky Overseer, robot farmers, and who knows what else. Was just us at first. Bunch of Garleans joined later. Some of them were the sorriest looking bastards I’d ever seen but some of them were just bastards, so much so that they tried to reestablish Garlemald, shackles and all.

Zelimir, I think you’d be proud to hear that we’re living side by side with many of these bastards now. You shouldn’t be, though. If the Final Days didn’t happen, we’d still be at each other's throats, but we (all of us) lived through some very horrific things. Didn’t know if the next day would be our last, didn’t have the spoons to care about fucking beans when literal depression monsters were hunting us down. Stranger than fiction, again.

I knew Marcellus killed you. I thought about it every day. I thought about it when I led our ragtag band of soldiers to defend our freaky magitek home against even freakier blasphemies, and I threw him into less than favorable fights because of it. You know me. I would’ve killed all the bastards if I had the chance, but...things happened. Hands were tied at the time. I’m bitter about you though, so I had hoped, and figured if he died in combat, well. That’s just war. But being in the trenches changes a man so, yes. He killed you, but he saved me too. Saved Sofi. We saved each other so that we could live another day like cockroaches. That was our new normal, insanity and violence and all.

The Final Days eventually ended, after more wars, more kidnappings, and more shit that flew straight over my head. Giant...spaceship at one point. Man. I don’t even know. Sometimes I want to believe it was all collective madness, but then, I’ll wake up and the signs will still be there. I half expect the skies to turn red again honestly. Peace feels like it could be taken away at any second.

Anyway, Marcellus confessed. Almost three decades later, when there’s practically nothing left of you except for memories, he confessed. Said you didn’t crack and reveal any of the other members of the underground. I hated hearing about it but it’s closure, still. And your body is long rotten and lost, your records wiped and destroyed, but we’re coming anyway, to the place you passed away. So I can say goodbye and Marcellus can...apologize.

You shouldn’t forgive him. He’s an ass. Terrible pokerface, awful taste in beer, his mustache sucks. Thinnest hair I’ve seen on a lip. I haven’t forgiven him and neither should you, but he’s trying, and he needs to live with this. No amount of justice will bring you back, so I guess I’m settling for second best.

These days, I’m restless wondering if this is enough. If this peace is enough, if evil got punished enough, if they’re repentant enough, if I’ll ever be satisfied. There are holes in me where you fit. Where all the good Tappers who died under the Empire fit. Is it fair that your murderer lives? Is it fair that he has a second chance? I don’t think so, but now, he’s a part of me too. There’s a hole where Marcellus would leave, too, and the trenches change a man. They leave you riddled with bullet holes.

I know you had hopes for me and I’ve always tried to live up to them but, Zelimir, maybe the reason I lived and you didn’t is because I’m not good. I want people to suffer as I have. I would’ve executed someone I now care about and been none the wiser. My pain, our pain. It’ll be forgotten one day...maybe recorded in words, but the distance will grow. One day, there won’t be anyone left that knows you personally. Is this a good thing? Is this just the way life is? That we live, just to be forgotten?

I don’t know. Maybe you can tell me.

Sincerely,

Vanya Kvetasch

[mariacallous]

Yugoslav film director Zelimir Zilnik’s tour started as a joke, Greg De Cuir Jr, co-founder and artistic director of Kinopravda Institute in Belgrade, who organised it, told BIRN.

“What if we organise a tour across the Midwest in the US, to all the small cities and states that you never get invited to, so you can see the other side of America! Trump country!”

However, the joke turned into reality. Soon the idea for a Midwest tour turned into a coast-to-coast tour, Greg explained. 

“Zilnik began in California, went to a beach and literally touched the Pacific Ocean, and made it all the way to New York, where he went to a beach and literally touched the Atlantic Ocean.”

On the question – why Zilnik? – Greg explains that it was because Zilnik is a star. 

“He is one of the most important independent filmmakers in Europe. He is also one of the rare representatives of the 1960s generation who is still making urgent and uncompromising films. Zilnik is an actual living legend.”

The tour started at the Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive in California and ended at the Harvard Film Archive. 

After Berkeley, Zilnik visited the Indiana University Cinema, where a selection of his oeuvre was shown. Visitors also could watch a documentary film dedicated to the director, Journal about Želimir Žilnik, directed by Janko Banjak.

The journey continued at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in Illinois. In addition to Zilnik’s short films, Logbook Serbia was shown, as well as Marble Ass, an awarded queer anti-war movie.

The next place was Wexner Center and Ohio State University, where a retrospective of Zilnik’s work occurred. Along the way, he visited two universities in Iowa and a university in Virginia. 

On November 4, a symposium was organised by Aleksandar Boskovic at Columbia University in New York, “The Avant-Garde Does Not Surrender: The Cinema of Želimir Žilnik”. Zilnik’s short films were shown that day as well, followed by a discussion between Zilnik and Pavle Levi, Professor at Stanford University.

From late September to November 11, Zilnik’s opus was shown in eight US states: California, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Virginia, Ohio, New York and Massachusetts.

The tour ended on November 11 at Harvard Film Archive in Massachusetts, the same place where a Zilnik retrospective was held six years ago, which was also his first retrospective in the US.

Greg describes the tour as an incredible success, during which they met “many amazing people, from students to colleagues, from universities to museums”.

“The films were all well received, the discussions were revelatory and the dinners we shared were moments of bliss. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me, and a very special time that I will not soon forget. I think Zilnik feels the same way,” Greg concluded.

[frnndlcs]

Rani radovi, Želimir Žilnik, 1969

[imnotjellyatall-art]

more d&d emojis!

[zorkaya-moved]

❝ i have a better idea. i will do as i please. ❞ ( zelimir for oak casket, i think it's time she met the unhinged thot clown )

@sortilegii

Oak Casket does not immediately respond to the words spoken by Chief. If anything, Zelimir's decisions are his own and she has no interest in ordering him around. She is a watcher, a listener, an observer. The contract between them continues as his life and death belong to her, but what he does with his own life matters little to her as long as he abides by the laws placed for his security from the past.

It seems that his talk with Langley and Nightingale ends with a selfish wish to do what he pleases. It's natural, it's a human emotion to want to o against authority and to want to do what one wishes. Oak finds herself only softly chuckling at the words brought out by the impish leader of the MBCC. He continues to act as a gremlin, causing headaches to many around him, but the one operating the Romanesque Hall doesn't find it irritating, more amusing than anything.

With a book on her lap and a silent offer of company, the once-grave keeper thinks to herself that Zelimir can vent all of his frustrations out in her room. There is no issue here, he and Dudu are the only ones who come often and stop by to alleviate this silence that surrounds her. Might as well lay down in the coffin provided to her so she can listen to his worries or his irritations, offering a listening ear and a presence to know he's not speaking at a wall. Even now, this tirade he's gone through ends with his own decision without any output from the silverette.

If anything, Oak closes her book with a soft 'flop' before looking at the other with her eyes of gold. He's long since been allowed to see her gaze without any contacts in place.

"Follow through with what you deem to be the best. It is your life, not anyone else's, yes?" Her voice is a silky smooth melody despite its depth of notes as she responds to him, supporting the decision of the living. It's rare for her to be intrigued by the world of the living more than wishing to cause mayhem, destructions all across Syndicate. His voice and his presence are a noise essential enough to not lead her into a mentally stagnant state. "It seems I will not be able to follow through with you on the next mission, so enjoy yourself to the fullest outside in the world of living. The spider wishes to see me this evening."

[ange-chan93]

{Jonathan Zelimir} One of the 2 characters of Guilty Rose's lead couple~ ❤    ~Despite his young age, Jonathan followed in his father's footsteps and joined the order of knights from a young age. Over time, he proved his abilities. He was brave and intelligent, a sword in his hands turned into a magical tool. Making him an extremely powerful opponent on the battlefield. His exceptional martial skills, combined with his will and intelligence, provided the golden key to the door of success for young Jonathan, who was appointed first marshal of the royal army of knights, being from the age of twenty-one the king's most trusted warrior.~    From Guilty Rose, our medieval novel! Hope you like it!!^^ You can learn more about the story and see more pictures on the following pages: Facebook: www.facebook.com/GuiltyR.FW Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/guilty.rosefw/?fbclid=IwAR3Lxf5627gaDNFVTPIZw51h-EMJnmOdQt_y17IRrYu8B3REU-OUcirXepA You can follow us if you wish ^^