body disposal is a lot less glamorous than people make it sound. not that i would know. obviously. this is just one of those normal thought experiments people have when they are standing in the basement at 3:17 in the morning with a shovel they did not remember buying and a guest who has become significantly less conversational than they were when they arrived. nobody tells you that the body isn't the actual problem. but it's a symptom. see. the problem is the decisions you made. the body is the receipt for said decisions. the body is what has to happen when the house has finished arguing with someone and they leave you to clean up after their pathetic corpse. which, by the way, is rude. anyway. i designed my eastern wing with hospitality in mind. trolls hear "murder hive" and immediately assume hostile architecture. but nah. that's an ugly way to look at my hive. my hive isn't hostile, it's attentive to my needs for you to be dead. each step you take, which doors you've trusted, they all get tallied up by the delicate mechanical workings of the hive in conjunction with my leavers. I can even count your exact pitches of breath as you go. let's me know when i can draw in close. so, usually, when someone winds up dead in here, i have a feeling there should be more appreciation for the collaborative nature of what i do. i don't necessarily cull trolls. the hive in conjunction to their decisions does. anyway. hypothetically. i have a body. but like. not a normal body. say, you know, a violetblood. first things first. don't panic. that's for the people working out of their undecorated basements. take a breath, apologize to the body for what you're about to do to it because part of the felt is being courteous usually. anyway. look around and see what the room itself is trying to telll you. mine usually says something like: oh, her again. or: that one screamed in cursive. or: please stop getting blood on the velvet runner, i have already had this conversation with you. and i listen because the hive is rarely wrong. worst mistake i can make is treating it like evidence. you know, im no legislacerator. nah. the body's more like a decoration you gotta get rid of before the junkhaulers come by. it's simple interior design. i think people get very precious about death because they assume it makes someone important. it does not. some people are less meaningful dead than they were alive, which is impressive because they were already fighting uphill. death can be tragic, yes. it can be intimate. it can be transformative. but. sometimes. someone just falls on the first pressure plate and gets impaled. what are you gonna do? cry about it? nah. i reset my mechanisms. i check my hinges. check the body for what's important. this one had an ornate dagger. that was neat. anyway. the body usually ends up in my crawlspace. why? so my lusus doesn't freak out about it. then i turn it into fertilizer with some chemical agents and use... something... to retrieve the bones. besides, hidden bodies in the hive are very nice. gives whatever block its adjacent to a sense of gravity. you know, turns mealtime into a private joke between you and the hive that your guests just won't get. maybe they smell a whiff of it, but otherwise, they just at worst think they are being watched in your old rickety hive. i like it. I like when hives have memory. i like when someone walks past a sealed door and gets that little animal feeling behind their teeth. not fear yet. just the suspicion that something nearby has teeth of its own and is politely choosing not to use them. that is how you make a hive right there. trolls will spend thousands of caegars on imported rugs, ancestral antiques, pretty much just trying to accomplish in feeling what i do when a violetblood clumsily trips over his own shoe trying to cull me. again this is just a hypothetical. the trick is to not just make the body disappear. make authorities feel rude when asking where it went. they are drones. if they have a problem with it. kill them too. “oh, him? he left.” “when?” “after he stopped screaming.” “you mean speaking?” “sure.” whatever. and then you pour tea. not good tea. do not waste good tea on guests who ask follow-up questions. or drones. #ADAB. the body is somewhere by then. where is not important. the hive has plenty of places for things that stopped being people. the walls are old. the cellar is older. the lowest room does not appear on the blueprint because the blueprint was made by someone who still believed in mercy as a structural principle. embarrassing. sometimes i think about putting little plaques up. nothing obvious. nothing gauche. just tasteful labels. HERE LIES A MAN WHO THOUGHT “DO NOT TOUCH” WAS A SUGGESTION. HERE LIES A WOMAN WHO SAID “IS THAT ALL?” AND THEN FOUND OUT. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO KEPT CALLING IT A BASEMENT. i would not do it, though. too sentimental. in this. you know. hypothetical. #easternalternia #murderhive #interiordesign #hypothetically #horror #foreverhome #traps #violence #gore
.you should start making artful sculptures with the bodies a la rigor mortiS .thatll spice up your worK
maybe. but i don't have much space.
?who says the designs cant be beautiful and efficient at the same timE .a true artist isnt deterred by the constraints of their mediuM
well. i guess im hardly an artist really. just. good at a few things.
.yeah i wont be coming to see the shoW .keep your smelly ass corpse piles to yourselF
taste has nothing to do with it. i just do what i've gotta.
who said i was trying to share?