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the-evil-clergyman · 19 days

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Athenais by John William Godward (1908)

#john william godward #art #paintings #fine art #1900s #1900s art #neoclassical #neoclassicism #neoclassical art #painting #british art #british artist #athenais #oracle #ancient greece #classic art

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necroneol · 2 months

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can you tell that aegis’ playlist is just the entire phantom of the opera soundtrack?

#aegis #steelrising #ludia #athenais

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pazzesco · 7 months

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🎨 John William Godward 🎨

John William Godward - Leaning Against a Column - 1901

John William Godward - When the heart is young - 1902

John William Godward - Dolce Far Niente III (Sweet Idleness) - 1906

John William Godward - Dolce Far Niente I - 1897

John William Godward - Athenais - 1908

John William Godward - In the Tepidarium

An Offering to Venus - 1912

The Bouquet - 1899

With Violets Wreathed and Robe of Saffron Hue - 1902

John William Godward - Dolce Far Niente II - 1904

The Day Dream - 1920

John William Godward (1861 – 1922) was an English painter from the end of the Neo-Classicist era. He was a protégé of Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, but his style of painting fell out of favor with the rise of modern art.

He exhibited at the Royal Academy from 1887. When he moved to Italy with one of his models in 1912, his family broke off all contact with him and even cut his image from family pictures.

He committed suicide at the age of 61 and is said to have written in his suicide note that

"The world is not big enough for [both] myself and a Picasso".

His estranged family, who had disapproved of his becoming an artist, were ashamed of his suicide and burned his papers. Only one photograph of Godward is known to survive.

This is the only known photograph of John William Godward that survives today

#art #paintings #john william godward #bouquet #tepidarium #athenais #saffron #violets #sweet idleness #dolce far niente #jw godward #day dream #offering #venus #neoclassical

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higherentity · 1 year

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Françoise Athénaïs de Rochechouart de Montespan

#Françoise Athénaïs de Rochechouart de Montespan #francoise #athenais #french #art #painting #1700s

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houserosaire · 2 years

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Prompt #4: Inevitable

The man in the portrait was handsome in a rather stern way, with high sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. A nose that might have been a bit too pronounced in any other setting centered his face, hooked slightly downward like the beak of a falcon. He might have looked almost cruel if the painter had not managed to capture the faintest hint of a smile on his full lips, and the warmth in eyes as brilliantly golden as amber. Those two touches softened that dark skinned face from cold to merely proud, and they were the reason that when the light hit the canvas just right Silvaineaux could almost see the man who had been his father in that painted reflection of him.

Usually he passed the portrait with little more than a fond glance but tonight he came to stand in front of it, lifting his glass of whiskey in a silent toast. The parlor was empty, and the frail and snow-shrouded sun had long ago abandoned the windows. Only a few candles and the dying glow of the coals in the fireplace lit the room. Silvaineaux sipped his drink and then set the glass on the mantle below the portrait. Tugging one of the heavy chairs around to face up at the painting, he collected his glass once more and settled into it.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He told the painting quietly.

The painting of course did not answer. Candlelight flickered over canvas, bringing out the lines of brushstrokes rather than the planes of familiar features, but the gleaming amber eyes still looked almost alive.

“I wonder…” Silvaineaux said, trying to ignore how loud his own soft voice sounded in the empty room. “If mother had not been what she was. A lady of Ishgard, acceptable to your family even if you weren’t to hers. If she had been someone else. A maid… a foreigner. A Shroud witch… would you still have loved her? Would you still have married her?”

He paused as if he expected an answer even if he knew none would come, looking up at his father’s painted features and trying to guess what he might have said if the occasion for this conversation had arisen while he still lived.

“I think you would have.” Silvaineaux said softly into the silence after a moment. “Perhaps that makes me a silly believer in fairy tales. But you always looked at her as if she were… inevitable. As if it could never have been any other way.”

The portrait still did not speak, but Silvaineaux looked up into the painted eyes and the captured light in their golden depths. If he turned he knew he would find the painting of his mother hanging just across the room. It was easy enough to imagine that the small softness in his father’s features came from seeing her.

He sighed. “Perhaps it’s a rather silly question really. But what I wanted to ask was if she had been one of those things… Someone from far away or that you could not marry in Halone’s church. How would you have made your promise to her if you could not swear to her on the Fury?”

The man in the painting did not answer of course. He was only paint on canvas and memories. After a moment Silvaineaux emptied his glass and rose from the chair. “Never mind.” he said quietly to the empty room. “I think you would have found a way. I will too.”

#FFXIVWrite2022 #Silvaineaux #Severin #Athenais #my writing #ffxiv rp #free choice

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bluegladiatordestiny · 5 months

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ATHENAIS GARDNER

#athenais gardner

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nebulous-apocrypha · 4 months

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Oolong, Lapsang Souchong, Chai, Lemon Balm, and Rooibos for an oc of your choice?

(tea-themed oc asks) was having a bit of trouble deciding who i wanted to answer these for, so i flipped a coin and what do you know it's athenais time

Oolong: How does your OC decorate their space? - to put it simply, her bedroom (the only room in the house she shares with her mother that's hers alone) is unmistakably a scholar's room... though maybe messier than one might expect a scholar's room to be. it's disorganized at first glance, with assorted books and journals and loose sheets of paper stacked and packed on or in anywhere they can be; in her bookcase, on her desk, on shelves, on her chest of drawers, on her bed, next to her bed, under her bed, etc. still, look a little closer and it's clear that she does have a system, unorthodox as it may be; it's one she works to maintain, too. everything's right where it should be, as is most convenient for her; subjects she's reading into from an academic standpoint on her desk and the surfaces near it, subjects she's taken a personal interest in on and near her bed, and the most esoteric material remains tucked soundly under her bed (she claims that area's for everything that embarrasses her, though). she doesn't pay much mind to aesthetics - as long as a piece of furniture's sturdy and doesn't get dirty easily, she's fine with it. as a result, she's got a somewhat eclectic collection of furniture in her room, but nothing that stands out too much. her curtains do, though; they're made of dark and notably thick fabric, blocking out just about all light from outside when they're closed. on her walls, she's got a lot of charts and diagrams that she's copied from books and hung up.

Lapsang Souchong: If your OC was a scented candle, what would they smell like? - oddly musty, in the way that old books that haven't been opened for a long time are, and herbal. very, very faintly minty.

Chai: What is your OC’s comfort food/drink? - a specific blend of very bitter herbal tea. her mother has a fondness for it that she inherited. lukewarm, since she doesn't like drinking it when it's hot but also finds it unpleasant when it's cooled off too much.

Lemon Balm: Does your OC have any bedtime habits or rituals? - before she goes to bed, she likes to go over all the things she has in her room and make sure they're where she wants them to be. putting books on her desk or in her bookcase, tucking notebooks under her bed, straightening the frames on her walls, etc. then she'll get herself a book and read right up until she falls asleep

Rooibos: What kind of lighting does your OC prefer? Dim, bright, moody, secret fourth thing? - athenais has pretty sensitive eyes, so she prefers lighting that's as dim as possible without becoming too difficult to see in. it's one of the reasons she doesn't leave the house after sunrise or before sunset (the other one being to avoid people)

#inquiries answered #ask game #oc: athenais

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awkward-sultana · 2 years

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(Almost) Every Costume Per Episode + Madame de Montespan’s gold gown in 2x08

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aoitakumi8148 · 2 years

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“I will sleep now. Sleep at last, and not to dream.”

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necroneol · 25 days

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masquerade

#steelrising #aegis #athenais

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houserosaire · 2 years

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Prompt #22: Veracity

“There’s always been something a little wild in the Rosaires if you ask me.” The old man said to the small crowd gathered around the rough table in the kitchens.

Alain paused a moment in his polishing of a very large pair of boots and peered around the corner of doorframe at the cluster of maids and footmen. Neither they nor the old man seemed to know he was there and in the end it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to carry tales and he didn’t mind having them to hear as he worked.

“I served in this one’s grandfather’s day, I did.” The old man continued. “Back when there was grounds to keep that didn’t have snow on them all the year. And I served his late father for a time too, before my old joints saw me off with my pension. Fury rest them both. They were good men. I am not saying as they weren’t. But there’s always been something a little wild in them. And there will be in this one too, you mark me.”

There were a few small mutters from the gathered staff, too quiet for Alain to make out and perhaps not even really meant for the others around the table to hear. No one wanted to interrupt the old groundskeeper’s tale and there was no doubt he was enjoying the attention as well, sitting at the middle of the throng with the cup of hot cocoa Cook had made for him. He held court like a visiting Lord himself. Alain couldn’t blame them, really. There was little enough to do some days with a staff this size and only two bachelors to tend.

“They run white-hot they do. In temper and affections both. And I won't say that doesn’t make for a good soldier. Mayhap we needed some men with a temper to match a dragon’s.” The old man mused. He paused to help himself to a sip of his chocolate. “And they do behave like you’d expect. Keep a lid on it for the most part. Baron Severin now, he was a very civil man. He never had a cruel word for any one in his service and he was well enough liked among the Highborn too, I always thought.”

Sensing the beginning of the real story the murmurs grew quiet. “But there was a lord at some Tourney said an unkind thing of his Lady Wife. There was always a bit of talk about the Baroness because of that fellow she jilted and the way her family cut her off, you see. It was wrong, that talk, I always thought. She was always the very picture of a Lady. She loved her gardens and never had aught but kindness for me when I met her in them. But folk will talk, won’t they. Look at you all now, hanging on everything an old man mutters.” He laughed, a pleasant sound despite the wheezing in it that made Alain worry for his lungs.

“Now the Baron Severin must have thought it was wrong too. He put a stop to it in the very moment he heard it. But like I say, they’ve a wild streak. He beat that Lord to within inches of his life in the Grand Melee later that day. They say the fellow had a scar over half his face to mind him to watch his tongue for the rest of his days.”

“And then there was his younger brother. That Alderic was a bad one.” The old man paused, sipped meditatively at his chocolate. “A real bad one. He was the youngest and his mother’s favorite and perhaps no one ever taught him to keep a rein on it. His brother tried in the later years but it wasn’t to be… Even a good tree can have a rotten branch or two, I suppose. He ran wild and I heard did some things as no one could be proud of. And perhaps he never did learn his swordplay as well as he ought either. Died in a duel in his thirties and not even the Late Baron his brother could pretend it wasn’t deserved.”

“What was the duel over?” One of the footmen asked.

“Well, I don’t fully know but I have heard…” The old man began.

But Guiscard’s voice rang out over the murmurs then and the whole kitchen fell silent as the Butler spoke. “Rumors no doubt, of questionable veracity, that is what you have heard. It is nice to see you of course, but I am sure everyone here has better things to do than while away hours in the kitchen. Don’t you agree?”

A chorus of murmured agreements answered him and the sounds of rushing feet wandered off in all directions. Alain set aside his polishing rag and inspected Silvaineaux’s boots, smiling a little at his own good work. He heard the slide of a chair as he rose to take them back upstairs, Guiscard sitting down to speak with the old man in his turn.

***

He found the Baron glowering over a letter when he went into the study to ask about the armor he wanted this week. Alain had no idea what might be in that letter, but as he studied his lord in the moment before Silvaineaux looked up, he found himself thinking of the old Groundskeeper’s words. There was most decidedly something both wild and white-hot in the way those mismatched eyes regarded whatever was written on the page. Alain was a little surprised it didn’t just burst into flame.

#FFXIVWrite2022 #Alain #House Rosaire's staff #Guiscard #Mentions of:#Silvaneaux #Severin #Athenais #Alderic #my writing #Rosaires #ffxiv rp

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life-imitates-art-far-more · 9 months

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John William Godward (1861-1922) "Athenais" (1908) Oil on canvas Academicism Currently in a private collection

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awkward-sultana · 2 years

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(Almost) Every Costume Per Episode + Madame de Montespan metallic brown gown with embellished collar 2x08,9,10

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arkytiored · 2 years

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❝ if you can’t sleep, there are other things we could do. ❞

staying the night prompts @desiderxta

There were a multitude of things that Margo felt she had little control over. With each day she spent as Vought's now copy-written Spinstress, the less she felt like herself. And here she was, barely an arm's length from a breathtakingly beautiful woman, and she was... nervous. Goddammit. This was practically her dream coming to life - unless she was horrifically misreading.