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indianlacesandfabricsupplier · 4 months

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Elegance Defined: Black & Gold Tassels, Embroidery Fabric, Silk Thread

In the realm of fashion and decor, the intricate dance of threads and the allure of embellishments have always held a special place. At Indian Laces and Fabric, our curated collection invites you to explore the timeless elegance encapsulated in Black and Gold Tassel Earrings, the intricate beauty of Embroidery Cut Work Fabric, and the enchanting allure of Silk Thread Tassel Earrings.

Discovering Black and Gold Tassel Earrings:

Boldness Meets Sophistication Dive into the sophistication of black and gold, where tassels become more than accessories—they become statements. Our collection of Black and Gold Tassel Earrings is designed to elevate your ensemble, adding a touch of bold glamour to any look.

Embroidery Cut Work Fabric:

Where Craftsmanship Meets Fabric Unravel the artistry woven into our Embroidery Cut Work Fabric. Each piece is a canvas of intricate details and skilled craftsmanship. From garments to decor, this fabric transforms every project into a masterpiece.

Cushion Covers Lace:

Adding a Touch of Elegance to Your Home Enhance your living spaces with our Cushion Covers Lace, where delicate details meet durability. Transform mundane cushions into statement pieces, showcasing the artistry that defines Indian Laces and Fabric.

Silk Thread Tassel Earrings:

A Symphony of Colors and Textures Indulge in the whimsical charm of our Silk Thread Tassel Earrings. Crafted with precision and a riot of colors, these earrings are a celebration of diversity and individuality. Embrace the vibrancy and let your style shine.

Indian Laces and Fabric:

As you embark on a journey through the elegance of black and gold, the intricacy of embroidery cut work, and the charm of silk thread, rest assured that Indian Laces and Fabric is more than just a marketplace. Our platform is a gateway to quality, craftsmanship, and a seamless shopping experience.

From the allure of tassel earrings to the intricacies of embroidery, Indian Laces and Fabric is here to redefine your style and elevate your creations. Explore our curated collections, where every piece tells a story of artistry and elegance. Unveil the symphony of black and gold, embroidery cut work, and silk thread magic that awaits you.

✨ #BlackAndGoldTasselEarrings #EmbroideryCutWorkFabric #SilkThreadTasselEarrings #IndianLacesAndFabric

#black and gold tassel earrings #embroidery cut work fabric #Cushion Covers lace #silk thread tassel earrings

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somewhereincairparavel · 1 day

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What would the seven wear? - Fashion Style analysis ( HOO Girls Ver.)

as a kid I used to want to be a fashion designer so making this post healed my inner child <3 enjoy ~

HAZEL LEVESQUE - okay okay omgg this girl would have the best fashion sense out of all of them (imo) because she is influenced by SO many fashion aesthetics, like her style would be vintage and modern at the same time! I feel like she would love long flowy dresses because it was the most common clothing women would wear in the 40's, she would love floral patterns sm because they are so cheery and it lightens her mood, this would bring out her "adorable" style more. also. JACKETS. this girl is OBESSED with jackets and cardigans, particularly in the colors brown and black. Overall her style is a mix of cheery, cute but she has that pluto edge to her style aswell with the jackets.

PIPER MCLEAN- honestly as much as she would hate to admit it, i feel like Piper would LOVE pink, pale pink takes up the majority of her palette. Her style is very youthful and it's a mix of rebel indie kid and soft coquette core. LOVES LOVES LOVES denim shorts, they are like a must in her wardrobe. Also, She loves jewelry, whether it be tassel earrings, beady bracelets and necklaces, rings etc. like she defo cares more about accessorizing than the actual clothing. she wears baggy white shirts a lot for some reason, but it suits her so well. Crop tops are a must, specifically pink or purple ones with a cute image on it, remember she wore a hello kitty crop top? yeah like that. I feel like her style is the most fresh and childlike without it being over the top, it is so cute. i love her style sm.

ANNABETH CHASE- Annabeth's style is super elegant tbh, she LOVES wearing grey, orange and white imo, also, i feel like she LOVES light blue/dark blue jeans. Ofc Annabeth loves caps, its like super dear to her, she doesn't have a specific "style" she just loves changing it a lot. Annabeth LOVES long dresses especially if they are white/warm brown. Her style is just super chill and modern. Percy is down bad when she wears baggy shirts tho cuz she slays so hard in them Annabeth loves knitted lace jackets because it gives off very homely vibes. Overall her style is super authentic and fresh tbh.

REYNA AVILA RAMIREZ ARELLANO- i have a feeling that reyna would love dressing up. it brings her comfort, she was the hairdresser in circe's island after all, Reyna is just straight up royal core. she likes wearing corsets, and silk gowns, Her color palette is gold, black, white, violet, and dark maroon tbh. Reyna LOVES large gold earrings that just dangle y'know? it makes her feel and look regal. She also loves circlets that you wear on the head. uggh she has got that roman classiness y'know. Super fancy and enjoys wearing long robes and skirts, i love my fancy shmancy queen <3

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uhohitsdorian · 11 months

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Ludari for @/Neopawliton on Instagram! This was part of an outfit exchange event, so I’ve only designed and drawn the clothes on top of the adorable base provided! I guess I’ve thoroughly cemented myself as the guy who draws drow in hanfu/hanyuansu now... all things considered, pretty good legacy I think.

[Image: a digital drawing of Ludari, a drow wizard, in beautiful, flowing robes and jewellery. He has pale lilac skin with white freckles, and round, grey eyes. His long, wavy white hair is adorned around his face in dangling gold and silver, including a lotus crown and several hairsticks and asymmetric earrings. He has a sleeveless teal-blue vest with silver frog fastenings and a faint pattern of leaves, and a sheer, seafoam-coloured scarf draped around his arms and tucked into a matching sash. Sheer silks hang off his arms from gold bangles and rings, and from the sash hangs a talisman with a holed disc and beaded tassels. His deep purple, ankle-length skirt is similarly patterned in leaves, and he wears black socks with gold shoes that upturn into points at the toes. End ID.]

#OCOEE #D&D #Art #Drow #Wizard #Ludari Beltune #Neopawliton #Hanfu #Hanyuansu #Fashion #Design #Collab #The Pictures of Dorian They #ID #14.3 #2023

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incorrect-mtg · 7 months

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Flavor Text Highlights - Mirage

<- Previous Set | Next Set ->

Funny - Pacifism

For the first time in his life, Grakk felt a little warm and fuzzy inside.

Funny - Elixir of Vitality

“Eternal life or your money back.” —Unnamed Suq'Ata merchant, deceased

Emotional - Reign of Terror

“I don’t know what takes them; they die around me without time to scream.” —Scout Ekemet, final journal

Worldbuilding - The entire Love Song of Night and Day* *which I will put under a line break because it's super long AND I want to repost content from a Wizards article which is no longer available

<- Previous Set | Next Set ->

The full poem, taken from the article of the same name originally posted in 2003 on the wizards website (here) with footnotes explaining which cards quote it.:

Love Song of Night and Day by Jenny Scott

He (Night) / She (Day)

Wrap yourself in your best bright clothes, your red and purple scarves of silk. Run with me to the festival, where we will dance until sunrise. The dwarves will beat their funny drums of zebra skins and hollowed trees, while stiltwalkers perform, and the musician blows his bamboo flute.

And late in the night, the poets and storytellers entertain, delight us with their dancing words, as we listen, clapping by the fire. Enchant me with your tale-telling. Tell about Tree, Grass, River, and Wind. Tell why Truth must fight with Falsehood, and why Truth will always win.1

I will tell my father's stories: how the giant mantis fooled Death by holding still as a felled tree; how the elephants trampled the leopard cub, and its father, though he knew, killed nine goats instead;2 how pirates gambled with a djinn and lost the thing more dear than gold.3

Tonight we'll eat a farewell feast. Cold corn porridge is not enough. Let's peel papayas, pineapples, and mangoes, drink coconut milk, and bake bananas.4 We'll dine on crocodiles, wild birds, and turtles, perhaps a hippopotamus--if only you can catch it first.

I'll build a palace made of stone. Two hippo-headed guards will serve, and tigers carry in your meals. I'll capture flying zebras for your steeds, and fill the stable with every kind of unicorn.5 Butterflies and salamanders will decorate your garden.

I'll strand long strings of beads for you, blue, the color only kings may wear. I'll carve a soapstone lioness, a wooden box to lock it in, girded with sapphire amulets, ostrich feathers, ivory. These things will protect you while I'm gone, remind you of my love for you.6

Your voice resounds like a songbird's, every word is a sweet, soft song. When you run you're graceful and swift, sleek as a powerful panther.7 Mysterious chameleon, you're a thousand women at once, sharp and strong as a lioness, yet gentle as a striped gazelle.

On this our last day together, let us walk across the grasslands. Hold my hand and let's walk slowly, seeing everything as children. Let's walk on the Daraja Plains, where leopards hang from trees, dosing, tasseled tails swaying in the shade, near villages of tree-dwelling elves.

Glorious, to walk again across the savannah with my beloved. A lion walks commandingly, a general among his troops, camped the night before a battle. A snake, colorful and coiled, loops around his bough, mischievous, hanging over the village path.

We'll find termites in their nests, hard tall towers above the plains, and point-eared cats, taking their turns, guarding their many entrances. We'll find the basket-nests of birds hanging from the acacia tree. Rhinoceroses and dragons for once will let us walk in peace.

When lightning tears the sky's dark cloak and heaven's bird beats the water on the muddy plains with its big wings, termites and frogs escape their homes toward the lamps in the nearest village. Spiders dry themselves indoors, the spotted lizards that never fall from ceilings suddenly appear.

In the forest, fires light the sky as the black clouds unfold their weight.8. The black-and-white sacred monkey holds her children to her, and waits.9 Love, like lightning hits suddenly. It sparks the heart with blows of light, its fire extending, bends, expands, beats and breaks your hiding places.

* * *

Remember when we were children, herding the sheep together, leading them over the grassy hills with long sticks. Your silly songs made me laugh, and in the evening, you'd enchant me with your stories, lying on your back beside me. Even then my heart was yours.

I remember your sacred rites. You were so funny, so grown up, so stiff and serious, all arms and elbows. You went in a girl, but you returned a warrior. You marched back with the others-- your hair was cut, your eye tattooed with the red triangle of war.10

Tomorrow I must go, my love. I will tattoo my head with braids. My shield will bear a shining sun so you will always be with me. Inlaid with gold, it will shine like glowing embers.11 I will return with lizard skins for your sandals. Paint your eyes black and wait for me.12

I am the sun, you are the moon. Wherever you lead I will go, following across the wide sky, as long as I live and you love. Sun follows Moon until she tires, then carries her until she's strong and runs ahead of him again.13 I'll carry you, too, my beloved.

My love, we are not Sun and Moon. Instead we are like day and night. The old ones say Day is a woman, who works only while it is light. She herds her goats and catches fish, fills her fields with golden corn, shows her children what is just and protects them from the cobra.

Day loves Night, who works in darkness, walking through heaven's milky sky collecting stars with his quick arms, piling them into a basket like a child collecting lizards and piling them into her pot until the pot overflows with lizards, 'til the basket overflows with light.

Night wears a black cloak lined with fire, studded inside with gleaming stars. At dawn and dusk he spies his love. Across the rolling hills of sky, they glimpse each other--so briefly. They throw each other kisses, cry. Their tears spill over Jamuraa. Mixed with blood, they wash everything red.14

But once, with a magician's help, Time was stopped and Day stood still.15 Night spread over Jamuraa, wrapped Day in his dark cloak and held her. In their miraculous embrace, the two became as One. Until pulled from Day's arms, Night sank, commanded by the western horizon that always beckons him to come.

I won't give up hope, my love.

Our love is like the river in the summer season of long rains: For a little while it spilled its banks, flooding the crops in the fields.16 But soon it will evaporate with the dry heat. Like Day from Night, I'll live my life apart from you, just glimpsing you across the sky, because you cannot change, my dear, and nor can I.17

[1] "Enchant me…" - Village Elder, Mirage [2] "I will tell my father's stories… how the elephants…" - Wild Elephant, Mirage [3] "…pirates…" - Kukemssa Pirates, Mirage [4] "Tonight…" - early harvest, Mirage and Sixth Edition [5] "I'll capture…" - Zebra Unicorn, Mirage (note that "flying" was changed to "gentle" on the card.) [6] "These things…" - Remedy, Visions and Sixth Edition [7] "When you run…" - Panther Warriors, Visions [8] "In the forest…" - Flare, Mirage [9] "The black-and-white…" - simoon, Visions [10] "…you returned a warrior… your hair was cut…" - Zhalfirin Knight, Mirage [11] "My shield…" - blinding light, Mirage [12] "I will return…" - Femeref Knight, Mirage [13] "Sun follows…" - Chariot of the Sun, Mirage [14] "Their tears…" - Mortal Wound, Visions [15] "But once…" - Sands of Time, Visions [16] "Our love…" - Summer Bloom, Visions [17] "Like Day from Night…" - Unfulfilled Desires, Mirage

#magic the gathering #flavor text highlights #Love Song of Night and Day #mirage

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chic-a-gigot · 1 year

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La Mode illustrée, no. 12, 19 mars 1865, Paris. Toilettes de Mme Lise, 17 r. Nve. Ste. Augustin. Envois de la Mon de Commission Générale, r, d'Hauteville, 53. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Description de toilettes:

Robe en poult-de-soie noir, bordée avec une grosse corde verte en soie. Au-dessus de cette corde, une guirlande d'épis brodés en soie verte remontant sur le devant de la robe et sur le corsage. Pardessus en drap léger, gris souris; grandes poches ornées de passementerie et de longues olives en passementerie; même ornement répété sur les épaules; manches étroites, fermées avec trois gros boutons plats. Chapeau de tulle noir garni en taffetas vert. Jupon blanc en percale, garni avec un volant ayant 6 centimètres de hauteur, plissé à gros tuyaux et à tête fixée par une bande de percale ayant 3/4 de centimètre de largeur, piquée sur chaque côté.

Robe en foulard écru foncé; allongée par une bande de foulard violet clair, ayant 10 centimètres de largeur. Cette bande remonte par devant en se rétrécissant graduellement jusqu'à la ceinture qui est de même nuance violette. Chemisette blanche, montante et plate, à petits plis et entre-deux. Veste courte entr'ouverte, bordée avec une bande violette; ces bandes sont partout surmontées d'anneaux entrelacés faits avec une grosse corde violette en soie; sur les épaules, mêmes anneaux terminés par des glands. La chemisette montante a un petit col droit auquel la bande violette garnissant l'encolure tient lieu de cravate. Chapeau blanc, moucheté de grosses perles noires; boules noires retombant par derrière.

—

Dress in black poult-de-silk, edged with a thick green silk cord. Above this rope, a garland of ears embroidered in green silk goes up the front of the dress and on the bodice. Overcoat in light cloth, mouse grey; large pockets decorated with passementerie and long olives in passementerie; same ornament repeated on the shoulders; narrow sleeves, closed with three large flat buttons. Hat in black tulle trimmed in green taffeta. White percale petticoat, trimmed with a flounce 6 centimeters high, pleated with large pipes and head fixed by a strip of percale 3/4 centimeter wide, stitched on each side.

Dark ecru foulard dress; lengthened by a strip of light purple scarf, 10 centimeters wide. This band goes up in front, gradually narrowing to the waistband, which is of the same purple shade. White shirt, high and flat, with small pleats and in-between. Half-open short jacket, edged with a purple band; these bands are everywhere surmounted by intertwined rings made with a thick purple silk cord; on the shoulders, the same rings ending in tassels. The rising shirt has a small straight collar to which the purple band trimming the neckline serves as a tie. White hat, speckled with large black pearls; black balls falling from behind.

#La Mode illustrée #19th century #1800s #1860s #1865 #periodical #fashion #fashion plate #color #retouch #description #Forney #dress #toilette #ensemble #Lise #mantle #coat #bolero

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cypriathus · 2 months

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Here are two ascended deities!

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: I go into detail about mental health issues, how the following characters died, and a bit of sexual content.

Holikazuste G’Zneklarbjomithus is an ascended age, commerce, wealth, and sex god with a carefree attitude and he’s noticeably lazy, possessing a disinclination to laborious action. He has a selfish desire for material gain and social value, and he’s concupiscent and flirtatious around those who grab his attention. Due to his greediness, he places value on high status by exhibiting many traits of hegemonic masculinity such as confidence and competitiveness. He derives immense sexual gratification from inflicting pain and humiliation on other people and himself. He's a quick-witted individual and expressive orator with a raunchy sense of humour, intellectual curiosity, and predatory aggressiveness. He’s able to easily adjust to changing circumstances, and he’s often in a continuous state of happiness even if he doesn’t show it. Holikazuste tends to struggle with indecisiveness and engage in irresponsibly playful behaviour that he finds to be fairly endearing. He has narcissistic personality disorder, which means that he’s arrogant with a sense of self-competence. He’s preoccupied with power, beauty, and success, while interpersonally exploiting people for his own gain. He has an inability to handle criticism, excessive craving for admiration, and reduced levels of empathy. He thrives on excitement and merrymaking, and he possesses a catalytic value of truth as he openly embraces his crude assertiveness. He has an irresistible charismatic presence and a fondness for giving excessive compliments in order to make himself feel more attractive and important.

In his humanoid form, he’s a well-endowed man with a gorgeous mesomorphic body type that has broad shoulders, muscular limbs, and a slightly prominent belly. He has an approximate height of 8 ft (243.84 cm) and messy, side-swept hair of brown black that’s often dyed either a mauve, berry blue or raspberry. He also has circumareolo-pecto-sterno-infraclavicular and dispersed abdominal brown black hair. His skin is a platinum grey with dark spots on the face, back of his hands, and shoulders. His forearms, inner thighs, lower legs, and back are covered in numerous healed scars. He possesses dull sunburst viridian-cadillac eyes, shark-like teeth, and two pointed tongues. Holikazuste dons a porcelain white bolero hat of soft velvet with two ostrich feathers as well as gilded galloon and tassels. He has a copper rose mozzetta with the front depicting a brown bear that has a plum blossom branch in its mouth. He has a faded jade sash with gold embroidery of the simurgh and a viburnum willow, a long-sleeved porcelain flax shirt, and silk baggy pants of green pea. He also wears a long, fur-lined robe of shimmering saffron and knee-high, lace-up black leather boots. He has a gold cock piercing, a silver lip piercing, spider bites piercing, an orbital piercing, rhodochrosite wire hook earrings, an obsidian signet ring on his left index finger, and a ruby solitaire ring on his left middle finger.

In his godly manifestation, he retains his slightly prominent belly, hairstyle, skin colour, dark spots on the face, and eyes. He’s now a 11 ft (335.28 cm) androgyne with his head, neck, and a portion of the chest and shoulders covered in lifeless skin. Holikazuste’s skin is pulled by sixteen gold hooks clamped into the uncovered flesh of his ectomorphic body with muscular limbs, slight breasts, sloping shoulders, and both masculine and feminine reproductive organs. The shaft of his crudely circumcised, phallic appendage is wrapped in barbed wire with a four pronged drill-bit surrounding the penis glands, and a nail goes through his nose. His mouth has two rows of yellowed bear teeth and three forked tongues covered in translucent black slime. He has draconic wings from the middle of his back and wires that come out of his cheeks, which intertwine into a metal semi-circle frame. It has six more wires that lead down to the back of his neck where the flesh has been cut and peeled back. His flesh is a glistening cascade and a black eye with royal heath sheen are on both palms of his clawed hands. He still wears his porcelain bolero hat, faded jade sash, and jewellery, but he has new accessories to suit his godly form. Gold bracelets of six hoops adorn his lower arms and he dons a chrysocolla cloth that he uses as a skirt. In both forms, Holikazuste often carries around a leather cat o’ nine tails with spiked ends, a poignard, and a lucky fox tail that’s tied around his waist with rope.

He’s able to fully manipulate age, growth, newness, progress, decomposition, lifespan, youth, puberty, senescence, economy, ownership, rarity, greed, metal, fertility, harvest, passion, pleasure, lust, fetishes, and pain. Holikazuste can bestow longevity to those who truly desire it or he personally likes, and he feeds off of sexual energy. He possesses supreme monopoly, charisma, stealth, luck, stamina, regeneration, endurance, flexibility, and beauty. He can project seductive thoughts into the subconsciousness of his sentient targets and generate pheromones that cause love, economic professionalism, and materialistic desires. He has the ability to mentally sense all kinds of emotions within his vicinity, and he possesses happiness and a libido that are indomitable. His kiss can grant people disease immunity, heal them of their physical wounds, and strengthen their libido. His blood has aphrodisiac properties, and he can sire a generation of children in a matter of months. He has an aura of attractiveness that naturally induces pleasure and libidinous desire, and he knows everything about commerce, love, lust, relationships, sexuality, and fetishes. Holikazuste is able to read, speak, and understand all known languages, but he struggles with putting them in black and white due to his poor writing skills. He can only change between his humanoid, godly, and unknowable manifestations and stop time if things get too hectic for his liking.

FAMILY:

1000+ children

ALIASES/NICKNAMES:

Calamus Pig

Lucky Merchant

Maturation of Swiftness

Quick Destroyer of Negotiation

He Who Shall Violate Our Boundaries

Seductive Lord Who Dabbles Into The Game of Chance

Holika (by most people)

G’Znekla (by a few people)

Vinegar son of wine (by most people)

Demented ostrich (by some people)

Messy hair of Kontanas (by Kicnemura)

Khuylo (“dickhead” in Ukrainian) (by Kicnemura)

Tormentor of my ill dreams (by Plocedruszina)

My indescribable hate (by Plocedruszina)

Flesh-clinger (by Plocedruszina)

Molester (by Plocedruszina)

Pussy-eating leech (by Plocedruszina)

FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION:

He’s pansexual

He’s an avatar of Kaldjehwozrinus

He was a notorious Eurasian merchant and owner of a brothel.

He fell in love with one of the prostitutes that attended his brothel, but it’s unknown what happened to her. After her sudden disappearance, rumours spread that he murdered her and sold her organs on the black market.

He knows how to write in Russian, Ukrainian, Latvian, Finnish, Polish, Georgian, Kazakh, Mongolian, Chinese, Korean, and Italian.

He died of deliberate suffocation and blunt force trauma to the spinal cord by a group of bandits during his travels across Russia. It’s believed that they cut off his head, limbs, and genitals, burying each body part in different locations.

As an Æylphitus, the different parts of his name have special meanings: Holikazuste means “wholly burnt” and G’Zneklarbjomithus means “shepherd who irritably chases the malignant brimstone, phosphorus hazard that laughs of eloquence, tiger’s beguiling cyclone or petulant smoker”.

His sacred animals are the rooster, tortoise, bull, goldfish, opossum, starfish, dolphin, mandarin duck, and nurse shark.

His sacred plants are the palm tree, sweetheart hoya, Dracaena trifasciata, string of hearts, forget-me-not, and Philodendron.

Holikazuste likes to speak in a flowery, yet slightly cryptic manner

He deeply cares about his avatars, especially Plocedruszina as she’s considered to be his “undeniably favourite plaything”.

Bjathurszomeni M’Guktjehodzripa, born as Hendazorsugi Khabletofius, is an ascended knowledge, magic, health, and warden god who has voyeuristic disorder and hoarding disorder. He sometimes becomes distressed due to his voyeuristic urges and fantasies, experiencing a persistent, intense arousal from observing people undress or engage in sexual activities. He feels inclined to keep and collect items that have little or no monetary value, but he mostly struggles with organising them. He’s extremely attached to those items, refusing to let anyone touch or borrow them without gaining his hard-earned trust. As a studious man, Bjathurszomeni is highly motivated and focused on his intellectual pursuits, taking in every piece of knowledge with contemplative care. He shows sincere and intense conviction to a considerable degree, and he has a decently firm grip on wisdom. He can be quite careful and hard-working, but he will occasionally embrace his inner child and take breaks when needed. He’s conservative in his emotions and he possesses a fairly easy-going attitude, but he’ll leash out in fury when his personal space or rules he sees as sacred are purposefully violated. He’s a morally righteous individual who doesn’t stand for heinous acts and irredeemable perpetrators. He shows genuine enjoyment in sharing his spiritual and professional knowledge with others he deems as worthy. He strongly values his autonomy, exhibiting a partial detachment from people in order to work alone. He’s fairly confident, protective, and respectful, and he often maintains an icy, yet polite demeanour.

He’s nearing 7’ 7” (231.14 cm), and he possesses an inverted triangular ectomorph body with a square chest, sloping shoulders, and a slightly rounded belly. He has ivory skin, green eyes with flecks of red and gold, and a short spiky haircut of copper. He also has circumareolo-sterno-infraclavicular and acuminate abdominal hair, and seven black moles across his body: one in the middle of his forehead; one near the left side of his neck; one on his right pectoralis major; one on his right external oblique; two on his left gluteus maximus; and one on his left adductor longus. He prefers to wear a short-sleeved highland green undertunic and white loincloth of ermine tails that’s covered by an alabaster alb and a matterhorn scapular. He also has a matterhorn hooded cloak, a rope-like cincture of intertwining gold and green threads, tamarind canvas trousers, dirty brown boots, and a luxor gold kalimavkion. The turmeric embroidery in front of his kalimavkion depicts a unicorn with an eclipsed sun on its back, climbing up a jagged rock with a lemniscate centipede above calm waters. On the right side above the bat-winged centipede are scissors that form an X-shape with an alchemical retort symbol (🝭) in between the blades.

After he ascended, not much of his physical and outfit appearance has changed, but there are a few differences. His skin is now a white rock, and he has four eyes, a serpentine tongue, red claws and talons, and a near absence of body hair. He has a green head, pointed ears, and three purplish lines underneath each of his eyes to his jawline. He doesn’t have his original trousers and his dirty brown boots are now replaced with a pair of golden rope sandals. His hooded cloak is a dusty grey with wine berry outlining and floral patterning in blue-green, red-violet, yellow-orange, jade green, bronze, and gold. He continues to carry around a satchel, a nazar amulet, an ancient book on alchemy, and bottled herbs. He also carries a gilded papal cross staff with the lowest horizontal bar containing three silver bells on each side and a circular blue apatite on the top.

He’s a master of all alchemical practices with immense knowledge on magic, the occult, the supernatural, and everything relating to it. He possesses and uses extremely dangerous and forbidden knowledge that no mortal should be allowed access to. Bjathurszomeni has encyclopedic knowledge of all recorded material in existence and full comprehension of any situation. He has mental capacity, wisdom, agility, endurance, regeneration, speed, vision, and hearing that nears absolution. He's able to manipulate magical force, supernatural law and properties, the biology of living organisms, cleanliness, healing energy, medicine, intelligence, reading, writing, and studying. His bodily fluids have healing properties and he manually heals people through the use of spiritual energy. He can perform surgeries on a supernatural level in order to treat incurable diseases and reanimate or resurrect the deceased. He's fully immune to all types of poisons, toxins, venoms, viruses, bacteria, parasites, pathogens, allergens, and diseases. He can perfectly recall and remember absolutely everything he thinks, feels, encounters, and experiences. He’s fully capable of psychically manipulating his neurological system by intuitively altering the wiring and functions in his cerebellum. This allows Bjathurszomeni to flawlessly enhance his intelligence to possess insight and knowledge to learn whatever he’s interested in. He possesses mind-reading, telepathy, dream interpretation, precognition, cosmic awareness, omnilingualism, and escape artistry and prevention, and he can shapeshift into a fox, wolf, domestic dog, raven, vulture, owl, and shark. He’s able to imprison spiritual and physical targets in obscuring shadows, spiked threads of blood, and cage-like constructs made from star remnants.

FAMILY:

Unnamed wife

Seven children

Volczebuthrija X’Uylmaboskezirg (lover)

Bonaklemus (descendent)

Unnamed five Phavodimetrus male descendents

Unnamed seven Phavodimetrus female descendents

Zimanoblukter Phavodimetrus (descendent)

Ikarondelus Kurshalojze Phavodimetrus (descendent)

Folsepruniva Phavodimetrus (descendent)

Eyrakhtonius Phavodimetrus (descendent)

ALIASES/NICKNAMES:

High Constable

Night Watchman

The Cutter’s Study

Herald of the Silent Night

The Most Sacred Priest of Valczebjowius

He Who Bears Elusive Secrets That No One Should Utter

Father Khabletofius

Mister Hendazorsugi (by some people)

Khableto (by a few people)

Hendazor (by a few people)

Bjathurszo (by some people)

M’Guktje (by some people)

Hodaszrepi (by a few people)

FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION:

He’s panromantic demisexual

He’s an avatar of Hekanotius, Ymabjelphorvius, and an unknown health deity.

He prefers to hoard books, manuscripts, religious clothing, and scraps of fabric.

He tries his absolute best to not drag people into his voyeuristic experiences without consent.

He was originally a hierophant of one of the designated temples of Valczebjowius and his family. He was secretly a practitioner of alchemy and medicine, using the library he owned as an alchemical and medical facility. He also owned an orphanage for parentless children.

He has a tongue piercing, but it’s kept as a secret because he feels immense shame when he brings it up or people notice.

He thinks that Volczebuthrija is a reincarnation of his dead wife

After finding out that he’s an alchemist, his followers were highly offended by this due to their distaste for mages. They stripped him naked, only leaving him in his ermine loincloth, and threw him into the dungeon of the temple he ordered to be built, restraining him with chains. During his detainment, they burned down his orphanage and library, and killed his wife and three of his children were brutally murdered in front of him. He has raped, humiliated, threatened of severe disfigurement, whipped, and let to mostly starve and dehydrate. After three days of torture, he was publicly executed through the use of a wicker man, burning him in a pyre with first fruits and a few animals.

As an Æylphitus, the different parts of his name have special meanings: Bjathurszomeni means “eroded muse of the breeding abundance or knowing revelation” and M’Guktjehodzripa means “horizon over the monarch’s aching pit, partaker in the ambivalent delirium or invading the amber mud”. In regards to his birth name, Hendazorsugi means “torch-bearer who goes in front” and Khabletofius means “to be a worthy successor or breath of god’s king”.

His sacred animals are the giraffe, octopus, crane, ant, dragon, tiger, horse, goldfinch, hummingbird, and Tasmanian devil.

His sacred plants are the passionflower, Calendula, Heliotropium, peyote, daisy, peace lily, and evening primrose.

Bjathurszomeni often talks to himself when he’s alone

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original-character-championship · 1 year

Text

Bracket E Round 1

Poll 29

Kiru - Replica Vessel 0.1 (@hallowed-nebulae) vs. Cadmus (@marv3l-drag0ns)

313. Kiru - technical name Replica Vessel 0.1 (@hallowed-nebulae)

it/its

It's a bioengineered, cybernetic-organic god-killer who was implanted with a mix of false and real memories obtained from a smaller newborn god out of curiosity for what would happen. It's struggled with identity and is trying to figure out who *it* is independent of the god who's memories it was implanted with. It's disabled and uses crutches to walk. It's demiromantic and bisexual and is capable of some amount of shapeshifting. It's associated with moths and the cycle of death and rebirth. What's not to love.

It's about 5'3", in it's "default" appearance (shapeshifting makes this wonky). It's got iridescent white hair that goes down to it's feet, electric blue eyes with white pupils, and bioluminescent markings all over it's body. These include false tear tracks on its face, marks over it's spine, sternum, and mimicking a ribcage pattern on its chest, and a ring of bioluminescence around its neck; all of these markings are a white-blue save for the neck marking which is white-gold. Kiru has large moth wings in the pattern and shape of Hubbard's silk moths; additionally, it's got a USB cable for a tail with a metal "spine" overlaid on top of the cable, which allows for Kiru to move the tail due to circuits within this spine. It's got claws on its hands and feet and teeth in the pattern of a hyena. Its hair shimmers like gossamer in the light. It wears a gray long-sleeve t-shirt, a light purple cropped jacket, black leggings, and dark gray boots with black soles and a blue stripe on them. It's crutches have black vinyl and yellow metal. It has a single tassel earrings on its right ear, with an ear cuff attached.

314. Cadmus (@marv3l-drag0ns)

he/they

Because Dragon, because minecraft, and because they lost their home many times but keep going forward despite wars, despite disability, despite not knowing whats coming next, but knowing deep down that they have to protect those they love if they are to keep moving forward.

Bipedal digitigrade dragon with a long fluffy mane and fur on their tail ridge, with two pairs of horns (one straight, and one that curls around to their jaw). he is missing his wings due to losing them in a caving accident.

#oc championship #tournament poll #round 1 #bracket e #313 kiru replica vessel 0.1 #314 cadmus

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rotworld · 2 years

Text

1: Decadence

each year, the kingdom of ilcordia commemorates the death of a tyrannical king with a day of feasts and festivals. you see nothing to celebrate about.

->explicit. contains dubcon/noncon, gore, graphic depiction of corpses, various methods of public execution, angst, threesome (kind of), necrophilia (kind of).

The finest dyes of dawn adorn Lynzveth, City of Beauty. Light shimmers prismic through twisting crystal spires and gilds the gentle waves of the Divinitas River. Flowering trees scatter starburst petals like dots of paint across the Moonstone Promenade. There are only the softest wisps of gossamer clouds drifting across the sky and the warm winds of spring. It is splendid weather for the Day of the Tyrant’s Demise.

Tranaud, the King’s Ear, catches you slinking out of the royal servant’s quarters long after the day’s festivities has begun. He seizes you by the arm before you can slip past him. “Your mask,” he hisses. You can hardly see him through all the silk and finery, ruffles and scarves and pearls lining the seams of his robes. His mask holds a tranquil expression, emerald blush dusting the sculpted cheeks. “You cannot leave the palace like that. Do not dawdle. His Eternal Eminence will be displeased.” He hears your sigh before you exhale it, snapping, “Now, Eye.”

You would drag your feet just to spite him, but you’re already running late. When you return, your face covered, Tranaud nods in approval and lets you pass. Merchants gather just beyond the palace bridge, selling silks, pigments and alcoran flowers, their opal blossoms in full, glittering bloom. Children play with toy swords, shrieking and laughing. Their small masks are tipped with horns and flowers, little cherub wings. The one playing the part of the Tyrant is cornered at the edge of a fountain, teetering on the stone edge. “Kill him!” the others cry out in glee, closing in with their paper lances and daggers. “Stab him! Drown him! Slit his throat! As many times as it takes!”

The glassy, crystal path of the Moonstone Promenade sparkles beneath the noon sun. Rainbows of light arc across a makeshift stage, tasseled velvet curtains and elaborate costumes speckled with kaleidoscopic splendor. The crowd is enormous, gathered on all sides of the elevated stage platform. You spot King Leolis in his ornate robes easily, enormously tall and surrounded by dignitaries. It’s easy to reach him. The crowd parts for you, native Ilcordians bowing in deference, outsiders shrinking back with unease and suspicion. Unnerved the smooth strangeness of your mask, the inhuman shapes, the lack of holes for eyes.

“A Blessed Day of the Tyrant’s Demise to you, Eye,” King Leolis murmurs. His twin masks are opposites, one of jagged gold and ivory, one of smooth silver and obsidian, sun and moon. The sun mask gazes up at the stage while the other is downturned, scrutinizing you. A noblewoman hangs on his arm—a foreigner, her face bare. She has powdered her face, rouged her lips, painted her eyes in an imitation of the local style with shimmering inks. She makes herself smile brightly, intent on holding this single expression without the slightest twitch. She has tried, meticulously, to make herself resemble a Lynzvethian mask, an effort you find both amusing and pitiable.

“Which one are you?” she asks. “I’ve met the Ear and the Tongue already. What a delightfully strange practice!”

“The Eye, my lady,” you say. She hesitates to offer her hand, flinching when you press your porcelain mask against her fingers in an imitation of a kiss.

The reenactment is half over. You’ve arrived just in time for the Tyrant’s death by disembowelment. The executioner’s black robes flutter behind her like a crow’s wings as she crosses the stage, ceremonial dagger clutched in one gloved hand. Her beaked mask is scarlet, wreathed with blood red feathers and a veil of black lace. “How unsightly, this beast that once ruled!” she recites. “He has defied the noose and scorned the flame. Shall he face my blade with the same impenitence?”

The Tyrant, bound to a wooden beam, struggles against his bindings. There is a crack in the facade of his weeping mask, tears of sapphire dotting the golden cheeks. “Please don’t do this,” he begs. “Please, I—there’s been a mistake. I’ve been loyal all my life.”

The noblewoman’s discomfort is obvious. She shifts, the beads and baubles along her dress clinking together. “What is it that you do, exactly? Eyes and Ears and whatnot,” she asks.

“Ilcordian monarchs are blessed by the heavens,” King Leolis says. He strokes her arm through one velvet sleeve, drawing her gaze to the serene expression of his sun mask. “We manifest our will through these appendages. An Ear and Eye to learn all that happens in the realm, a Tongue to speak what is decreed…”

“Peculiar,” she says. “We have a royal spymaster for such things.”

“A spymaster can’t do what I can,” you say.

On stage, the executioner unsheathes the ceremonial dagger. The blade glints in the golden light, sharpened to a razor point. She begins the Butcher’s Lament, long, poetic verse about duty, honor and the cleansing of sin, drowned out by the Tyrant’s shrieks. “King Leolis!” he screams. “I’ve done nothing wrong! I’ve done nothing—!”

“This death I give with pleasure!” the executioner declares. She glides forward, dagger in hand. With vengeful purpose, she drives the blade into the Tyrant’s chest. The sound is a dull, wet thunk. The executioner must always be an actor of great strength and dexterity to strike through flesh, and sinew, to saw through layer upon layer of sacrificial garment and expose the flesh beneath, and to do it all with style. This one is perhaps the best you’ve ever seen. She works with artful precision and wild ecstasy all at once, soft giggles turning to raucous laughter as she begins to gut the Tyrant like a fresh kill. Ilcordians cheer and applaud, chanting, “The Tyrant’s Demise! The Tyrant’s Demise!” Foreigners shift and murmur, hesitantly excited. They were warned, surely, heard stories at the very least, but to see it is another thing, you suppose.

“I’ve always admired the Ilcordian flair for spectacle,” the noblewoman says. “You make an art of everything.” Blood spatters across the stage and wets the executioner’s gloves. She plunges her fist into the gaping wound, wrenching a length of pulsating intestine from the Tyrant’s stomach. He makes a gurgling, weeping sound, sagging in his bindings. You watch. A dull heat ignites in the pit of your stomach, a quiet rage.

This is a farce. A disappointing imitation. The Ilcordians who were here that day know it as well as you do, but they’re willing to swallow this uninspired forgery. The real thing, you recall, was indescribably beautiful.

“Is it true you had to kill him six times?” the noblewoman asks.

“Eleven, actually,” King Leolis says. He chuckles at her wide eyes and soft gasp. “A dreadful business, but it’s behind us now.”

“For that, I’m grateful. The old king—the Tyrant,” she quickly corrects as King Leolis’ cold, moon mask turns towards her, “his war against the northern provinces came dangerously close to our borders. I woke each morning to smoke on the horizon, fearing the worst.”

“Never again,” King Leolis vows. He touches her openly, shamelessly, his hand sliding from her arm to the small of her back as he draws her in. “War is not my way. You will see that, in time.” The noblewoman’s facade nearly crumbles, the corner of her lips twitching, her eyes half-lidded with desire. You wonder what she, and all foreigners, think is beneath an Ilcordian’s mask. Ear has told you all manner of bizarre rumors he overhears, that your masks magically change themselves to suit your soul, that you die if they break, that the masks are your faces. She must believe the latter. Unfortunate, you think. If King Leolis manages to lure her to his bedchambers tonight, she’s unlikely to survive the night.

“Could you send your Eye away?” she asks quietly.

King Leolis’ masks both turn towards you, lingering behind her. He says nothing. You stare back at those mismatched faces, both gentle and stern. He is, to the outsiders, austere and imposing, towering over mere mortals. To you, he is no better than the reenactment, the impotent squelch of flesh unraveling around a blade, a shadow cast by a greater being. You say, with a sweeping bow, “If that is what the lady wishes.” You know that King Leolis lets out the breath he was holding only when you have crossed the Moonstone Promenade and gone far, far away.

Veyette, the King’s Tongue, stands in the town square, drowning in an extravagant gown. The lips of her black mask are stretched in a wide, golden smile, a crescent moon and stars painted across her features. She stands straight-backed, hands clasped together, as motionless as stone. “His Eternal Eminence welcomes you to the City of Beauty,” she says, her voice smooth and pleasing. “Partake in all that intrigues you. Indulge in all that pleases you. That is the Ilcordian way.”

You’re restless. It’s hard to sit still for long. Another, more grand production of the reenactment is staged at the amphitheater, a venue of greenery and marble columns with the scent of flowers wafting through the air. You drift through during the infamous scene where a mob of Lynzvethians storm the palace, disinterested even as the Tyrant is dragged across the stage in chains, sobbing, “Don’t just stand there! Help me! Do something! You really think Leolis is any better? You think it won’t be you up here next year?”

Courtesans in lavender masks travel in search of the lonely and unoccupied, alcorans and their winding stems painted beside their eyes. They whisper to starstruck outsiders about the coming celebrations, a performance of movement and pleasure held in the royal gardens beneath the moon. Gossip is everywhere. A horde of nobles corner you in the marketplace, fishing for secrets. “King Leolis is refreshing, isn’t he? More fond of the pen than the sword,” one says.

“He is what he is,” you say, amused. Outsiders are fun to look at with their expressive, fearful eyes and quivering lips.

“Do you think he’s interested in increasing trade with the western realms?” another presses.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“I suppose you haven’t been his Eye for long. He only ascended to the throne four years ago. How does that work, anyway? It sounds like sorcery. You simply came into existence when he became king?”

“I’m not his,” you say. The nobles make even more interesting faces. You watch their skin stretch and furrow, their mouths twisting into worried frowns.

“That mouth will get you into trouble one of these days.” Oanick, the King’s Hand, drapes his spidery fingers over your shoulder. Swirls of silver are embossed across his mask, a colorful diamond pattern adorning the edges. “Honored guests,” he addresses the outsiders, tilting his tricorn hat, “don’t mind this one. The Eye is a creature of riddles. We are the appendages of His Eternal Eminence. King is such an uninspired title in comparison.” His grip slides down to your wrist and he drags you away, heels clicking across the stone path.

“Are you upset with me for telling the truth?” you ask.

“You forget yourself. You are to watch. Nothing more.” He doesn’t look quite as absurd as the rest of you, permitted sleeker, more subdued garments, embroidered sleeves hugging his long, slender arms. Together, you make your way back to the palace. You pass the marketplace, Veyette still speaking words that are not her own, “His Eternal Eminence asks only that you enjoy yourself to the fullest. Take what you wish and do as you desire.” The reenactment has ended at the Moonstone Promenade, the crowd dispersing. King Leolis and his conquest are already gone, onto the next spectacle.

“I’m tired of this,” you say. “Tired of all of this.”

“He does not want to see you like this, Eye.”

“He’s dead,” you say.

“Even so.”

One must pass through the palace gates, the gardens, and the servant’s quarters before finally reaching the royal cemetery. The air is cold here. The grass is gray and brittle, the sky swirling with clouds. There is sunlight beyond the trees but it doesn’t reach here. They call this strangeness “Ilcordian gloom,” and it was once everywhere. It shrouded Lynzveth in its smothering embrace. It followed the royal army into battle. It crept through the earth and menaced the frail realms on the borders of Ilocrdia, threatening to overtake them. Now, it can only be found here.

Oanick leads you to a mausoleum, the eclipsing sun and moon of the royal crest adorning the heavy, stone doors. He splays one of his long-fingered hands against the stone and pushes. You see it, and he must feel it—how all of Ilcordia trembles when that first wisp of accursed air seeps out. The darkness within is deeper than night. A set of stairs spirals into the abyss.

You don’t speak to Oanick for the entire descent, and he doesn’t speak to you. It takes everything you have to keep walking, to keep yourself from turning around. That heat in your chest burns hotter, fires of anger licking the inside of your lungs. You long for this, year after year. You dread this more than anything. Deep in the earth, covered in cobwebs, cave moss and ancient dust, lies the tomb of the old king. There is no casket. No headstone. No surviving monument that bears his name. There is only an old throne and his corpse seated upon it, still bearing the wounds of his executions.

He wears the thin, ashy remains of his once splendid robes, his head concealed behind crude burlap, the hood of the executed. Chains bind him and long, iron rods nail him to the throne. His throat is slit and gaping, his bones prominent through stretched, emaciated skin. A rope of intestine dangles from the grotesque woud in his chest, a flayed display of flesh peeled back and held open by insect pins. A snapped noose hangs around his neck. And yet, when you set foot in this old, forgotten place, you see the corpse move. His fingers flex and curl. His chest heaves with rattling breaths. He lifts his head and you feel his gaze.

Oanick shoves you so hard you stumble. You catch yourself on the armrests of the throne, face-to-face with the grotesque husk of the old king. You look back and he shakes his head. An apology. The action wasn’t his.

“Your Eternal Eminence,” you murmur, stroking the mangled, pale hand of the corpse. “You see what I see. But do you see it the way I do? I wonder what you think of all this sometimes.” It’s with some difficulty that you climb into his lap, straddling his bony hips. The chains and sharpened stakes dig into you, catching on your extravagant clothing. You push yourself closer, leaning against his chest. You hear lace tearing. You don’t care. He’s so vast compared to you, even bigger than King Leolis. He towers over you, even seated. “I don’t get it,” you admit. “He’s not much different than you. He does all the same, awful things, but more carefully. He dresses them up, gilds them. There was never any pretension to your cruelty.”

The old king sucks in a low, rumbling breath through his dead lungs. One finger twitches like a dying spider’s limb.

“What do you think of that? Do you think anything anymore?” you ask him, running your hands across his chest, feeling the unraveling silk turn to ash beneath your fingers. It’s maddening. Dead eleven times over, gray as the stone around him, and still so regal. Long, unkempt hair trickles out of the burlap hood and spills down his shoulders, the same immaculate color as the stone path of the Moonstone Promenade. You lean into him, rest your head against his cold chest. His heart beats a faint, stuttered rhythm, once with each breath. “I have always hated being your Eye,” you say. “But I hate this even more.”

You hear the click of Oanick’s heels and then his hands are on you, curling over your shoulders. They’re the same as the old king’s. Smaller, more delicate, but the same spindly fingers, the same firm, confident grasp. You can hear him panting as the old king’s arousal overtakes him, his breath warming the nape of your neck. He took his mask off. A shiver runs through you.

“I have nightmares where you take your vengeance,” you tell the corpse. “You reclaim everything. Your kingdom. Your palace. You take us, and we are whole again.” You hear your clothing coming apart, seams ripping on Oanick’s sharpened nails. The chill of the mausoleum hits your bare skin, shoulders first and then the expanse of your back. Your hands rise to the hood of the executed, feeling for the shape of the old king’s jaw. You touch him through the burlap, frame his face against your palms. “And when I wake up, I feel the Ilcordian gloom on my skin and in my lungs. And I’m hateful and afraid.”

Oanick’s lips caress the shell of your ear. His fingers hook into the strings holding your mask in place and you feel indignation. He doesn’t deserve to see you. It’s his fault that Leolin took power, his fault that this new age of masks and make believe began. “Don’t,” you whimper.

Oanick hesitates. The old king does not. The string snaps and you hear the porcelain shatter on the mausoleum floor. Oanick feels you with the king’s hands, tracing your jaw, your lips, the shape of your eyes. All of them, along your cheeks and bared forearms, wiping away the tears gathering like pearls on your collarbones. It’s the old king who grabs your hips with careless, sharp fingers, the old king who blankets himself against your back as his hands roam your body. Oanick whispers apologies and kisses your neck, and he is just as lost and broken, a disembodied appendage.

“Let us go,” you beg him. Oanick inhales sharply behind you. Your insolence is rewarded with a hand twisting in your hair and pulling hard on your scalp. The old king takes you both.

Oanick gasps and shivers as he buries his cock inside of you, his lower half moving against his will. It’s misery, shivering in the lap of a dead thing that will not die. He is cruel through Oanick, making his hands pinch and scratch you, leaving marks in your skin. Every thrust pushes you harder against his cold body. You feel his malevolence like a fog in the air, a burning smog in your lungs. You understand, without words, without anything but how frantically Oanick begins to fuck you and his teeth sink into your neck, that he still wants with the same terrifying ferocity he held in life, he still desires.

Oanick bounces you on his lap. His nails sink into your hip like knives in your skin and every thrust makes them cut deeper. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, but his kisses have turned harsh and biting. The flesh of your shoulder crunches between his teeth and you shiver at the hot press of his tongue against the wound. The pain is not as terrible as the yearning in your chest, the knowledge that this, too, is a pale imitation. A theatrical performance of something greater. The old king watches you shiver and cry as his stand-in fucks you harder, the slap of his hips against yours echoing in the emptiness of the mausoleum.

You cry out when Oanick’s hands wrap around your abdomen and you’re pulled into the rhythm of his thrusts like a toy. He slams into you and holds you still, stammering more useless apologies as you writhe. Oanick's hand wraps around your throat and starts to squeeze. Your fingers scrape at his wrist, tearing the delicate fabric of his sleeve. He rolls his hips and your eyes roll back in your head.

“He wants you to beg,” Oanick says.

“I won’t,” you mutter, and he starts to choke you again.

There is no time in the abyssal darkness of this tomb, no way of knowing how long you’re there, lungs burning, shivering between Oanick and the old king. You are broken and put back together, granted just a glimpse of wholeness. Oanick grasps your hips as he starts to move again, pounding into you faster than before. You find yourself with your arms over the old king’s bony shoulders, your fingers tangled in his hair. Your lips move mindlessly against burlap, kissing something you can only remember. His mouth doesn’t move. He does not speak, does not return your devotion. But there is rigidity in the old king that wasn’t there before, intention that does not belong to the dead. You feel, distinctly, that you are seen, beheld by hidden eyes. You feel him like a fist around your heart, squeezing until you burst.

Far above in the streets of Lynzveth, the King’s Tongue cannot help the satisfied smirk that crosses her lips. “The King is dead,” she says in a voice not her own, “long live the King.”

#rotpeach writes #goretober #starting the month off with a weird one lmfao #original

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styleofdiamandis · 3 months

Text

PHOTOSHOOT: INSTYLE MAGAZINE

Back in 2010, Marina graced the pages of InStyle Magazine. The editorial, which showcased some of the best Fall/Winter 2010 collections, was lensed by Christophe Rihet.

Styling by Amanda Bellan and Frankie Read, hair by Paul Percival, makeup by Cassie Jones and nails by Julie Luong.

We're starting off strong with Marina dressed in a Dior chunky ivory wool knit cardigan with baby-blue silk ribbons and white fur trimming (£1,650.00) which she teamed up with Dolce & Gabbana burgundy velvet wrap bustier dress with draping and jewel brooches (£1,300.00).

Her jewelry here includes a Topshop metal chain necklace with a Pebble London 22ct gold, blue aventurine and silk necklace (£240.00 - similar pictured).

On her hands, she wore a Dorothy Perkins black leather ring (£12,50) and a Sarah Ho London 18ct gold, quartz and tsavorite ring (£2,150.00).

Look n. 2 displays Marina wearing her favorite designer, Vivienne Westwood! She chose one of the final numbers from the Gold Label's F/W10 runway - a lilac silk taffeta dress with exploding black organza skirt.

As in accessories, she wore two studded leather cuffs by Felder Felder (£200.00 each), a feather and 18ct gold headdress by English jewellers Wright & Teague...

...which she then swapped for a Sonia Rykiel beige ostrich feather pom-pom headband (£350.00).

One element I've noticed about this shoot: there's just never enough when it comes to jewelry! Layering chunky necklaces is such an early 2010s thing and this shoot definitely showed how to do it back then.

Marina combined a Djurdja Watson black jet necklace with Swarovski crystals (£476.00) with a Topshop metal multi-strand watch necklace in silver (£50.00)

M further accessorized her look with a Chanel metal ope-work, enamel, resin and gripoix cuff (£1,724.00)...

...and Pebble London mother-of-pearl oval bezel ring (£165.00 - similar pictured) and gold-plated & pink aventurine ring (£145.00).

The HOT Steampunk-inspired metallic gold and black patent leather sandals (£635.00) are signed by Rupert Sanderson.

For the third look of this editorial, the singer wore a white tulle dress with fraying and ruffles from Chanel's collection, which was inspired by Winter wonderland.

Marina's jewelry here included a Tom Binns Design Punk Chic metal necklace (£895.00), a Djurdja Watson gold-plated silver and brass necklace with Swarovski crystals (£389.00), and a Hoss Intropia silk and crystal cuff (£79.50).

Next, she accentuated the waist of her dress by rocking a Hollywood Trading Company studded black leather belt (£205.00).

The look was completed with these black eel skin peep-toe platform pumps (£585.00) from Rupert Sanderson.

Here, Marina wore the Lolita bodysuit (£439.00) from Bebaroque's "Matador" collection with embroidery inspired by Spanish traditional matador costumes and historical embroidery.

She layered a L'Agence cotton skirt (£170.00) with a Topshop tulle and diamanté maxi skirt (£70.00).

Her jewelry starts off with this beautiful Chanel Pre-Fall 2010 "Paris-Shanghai" collection gold metal, enamel and silk tassel necklace (£2,285.00).

She also wore Tom Binns Design crystal earrings (£120.00), the Felder Felder studded leather cuffs (£200.00 each), Pebble London gold-plated, onyx and coral ring (£165.00) and Sarah Ho London 18ct white-gold, topaz and diamond ring (£4,760.00).

Lastly, her black leather biker boots (£160.00) are Hudson London.

For the penultimate look, Marina sports this intricate folded black lambskin leather sleeveless coat (£2,795.00) by John Rocha!

Last but definitely not least, Marina poses in this Emilio Pucci Fall/Winter 2010 mustard-yellow ostrich feather jacket (£4,865.00), which I promise, would go missing if it was near me.

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giulolosblackmail · 2 years

Photo

[ID: Two full colored official digital drawings of Peerless Beauty Theater Event partners from the Chinese mobile game Helix Waltz.

In the first image Juven Sakan stands with a book in hand. There is a large, brown and black long-haired cat with pointed ears curled around his shoulders. Both Juven and the cat have bright green eyes and are winking. Juven’s long golden hair is tied into a braid that goes down to his waist, while the dark red robe he wears goes down to his ankles. There is gold embroidery and beading on his robe and it is tied shut with a golden tasseled cord. He is wearing a pink, silk collared shirt with a deep V, dress pants, and matching black dress shoes.

The second image is of Magda Ellenstein dressed as Mata Hari. She is dancing, her full red and orange skirt flaring out as she moves, gold beads and chains and stitching catching the light. She spins shimmering silks, also covered in gold beading, through the air as she dances. She wears a revealing bralette made of gold chains and beads to match those jangling on her waist, skirts, arms, fingers, and neck. There is a feathered headpiece held in place in her short close curled hair by a golden circlet.

/End ID]

A little bit about the partners this time around. The set matching Juven is based on Margaretha Geertruida Zelle, stage name Mata Hari, an exotic dancer living in France during WWI. While traveling outside of France, she accepted 20,000 francs from a German diplomat to spy for Germany. She never sent any information back to Germany after leaving, and claimed she only accepted the money to make up for the expensive luggage that was lost due to harassment from German border guards. This unnamed German diplomat was rumored to have been one of her previous lovers and, while never named, has been given the name Mühlbach for the event and made into a German spymaster.

Though the "true" ending for this quest claims that Mata Hari was guilty in some way of spying, either for the French or the Germans, it is much more likely that she was set up by both German telegraphs and the French government as a punishment for taking money and then refusing them both, as well as being a public figure that traveled across borders during the war, and having many lovers inside and outside of Paris. She was convicted by a French kangaroo court that could present no evidence against her and summarily executed, after which the French government used her as a scapegoat for the deaths of over 50,000 french soldiers - all of which were due to corruption and incompetence within the government itself - creating the much more well known story of the legendary femme fatale; Mata Hari.

#helix waltz #hw juven sakan #hw magda ellenstein #apparently there is a popular korean musical based on her life too

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wuxiaphoenix · 1 year

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Isekai Anime Dreams

Author's note: This may be a Bad Idea. But… when your usually non-visual brain hits you with visuals, what the heck. I'm open to other music suggestions but currently the "placeholder" music in my head for this is I Want My Tears Back, by Nightwish.

Open with: A passenger airplane flying through a thunderstorm.

Lightning flickers as the view closes in on the faces of passengers; many nationalities, tired business travelers, regular people. Focus on an older blond man with graying hair (Jason Finn) reading a history of Korea. In the background across the aisle is a redheaded teenager (Mary Hartman) with her parents.

Lightning flash! The airplane lurches right, as gigantic black talons punch through the hull. People scream as chaos breaks loose in the cabin; oxygen masks, falling luggage, people tossed across the cabin. Jason grabs a stewardess’ hand, holds a moment - then she’s torn away, as the rolling beverage cart takes him out from behind. Cut to the airplane angling through the sky, falling, something large and lost in darkness atop it; a hint of horns, a flash of teeth, the shadow of massive membraned wings.

Silhouette of bodies falling through dark water. As they sink, the background colors fade from dark to red, bloody water. Air bubbles up, as Jason struggles up through the water, hanging onto Mary, hand reaching desperately upward....

A dark-robed arm plunges into the water from above. A strong hand reaches down, and pulls.

The pair surface and clamber to a wrecked wooden hull... in the middle of a violent fight, men in hanbok and tiger-hunter’s garb clashing with shark-toothed pirates. Their rescuer (Lee Cheong) whirls away, his geom (Korean sword) blocking a pirate’s dao (Chinese saber), as a sky-haired mage (Chae) in midnight-blue hanfu slashes her jian (Chinese straight sword) to create a pentagram portal for their escape-

Cut to a clip of each character doing What They Do Best. Each is a day/night shot.

A bookseller in daylight, hair bound back in a simple topknot, climbing the streets with a pack of books. By night a midnight-robed mage with guan, star-sword glowing against a samdugumi, a distorted regenerating fox-monster. (Chae.)

A lady healer in the infirmary in traditional hanbok, by night a silk-shirted mermaid leaping from the waves, throwing needles against a six-faced corrupted monster that used to be a dolphin. (Jue Chin-Sun.)

A tall, charming rogue in common cotton clothes in a tavern brawl by day, by night a cool sniper facing a demon tiger with matchlock, ropes - and pit trap opening dramatically as the tiger charges. (Kwan Ha-Nuel.)

A sunset shot, jiangshi surrounding a tall scholar in robes with earrings of glittering gold and silken tassels, drawing his sword and taking off dark glasses as his eyes glow red. (Lee Cheong.)

Followed by a short sequence of Jason shooting. Daylight, Jason is out at a target range fitting his arrow onto the string with slightly shaking hands. The camera pulls away as the scene turns to sunset, showing him in full draw, pale-faced but calm - then the arrow released. Sky goes to night, with the focus on the arrowhead that bursts into blue flames in flight - the whole time-lapse happening in one arrow shot.

Fade to a dawn shot of the demon-callers looking down on the city of Hanyang (modern times Seoul); Lee Cheong turns to beckon Jason with bow and Mary (in hanbok with ghost-hawk) to join them.

Shadows rise, an obvious and multi-monstered demon horde... Dramatic pose, with Lee Cheong displaying qilin badge. Roll ep!

Note: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Namhansanseong

The view from the fortress wall, of Seoul below? That's the picture in my head, of where the demon-hunters are looking....

Also note the qilin was not just the “eastern unicorn”, but in nations that had Confucian traditions it was used as a symbol by trustworthy soldiers and wise judges; the implication being that the bearer, like the qilin, would be harmless to the innocent, yet destroy evil.

#isekai #origfic #i only wish I could draw this #alternate history

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marymerchandice · 12 days

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NEW Modelo Beer One Piece Bathing Suit Large.

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indianlacesandfabricsupplier · 2 months

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Unveiling Elegance: Elevate Your Home Decor with Table Runner Lace and More

Introduction:

Welcome to Indian Laces and Fabric, your premier destination for an extensive array of exquisite products designed to elevate your home decor. In this extended guide, we'll delve deeper into the fascinating world of table runner lace and explore additional facets, including fabric for cushion covers, georgette fabric, bridal fabric, and black and gold tassel earrings. Join us for an immersive journey into the world of elegance and creativity.

Table Runner Lace – A Symphony of Style

Fabric for Cushion Cover – Elevate Your Comfort Zone As we dive into the realm of cushion covers, let's explore the various fabric options available at Indian Laces and Fabric. From cotton blends to luxurious silks, our collection caters to every taste and preference. Discover the art of mixing and matching textures and patterns to create unique cushion covers that resonate with your personal style. Whether you're aiming for a cozy and casual look or a more formal aesthetic, our diverse fabric range provides the ideal foundation for your creativity.

Georgette Fabric

Draping Dreams in Luxury Georgette fabric, known for its lightweight and flowing characteristics, deserves a closer look. Beyond its use in garments, georgette can be incorporated into your home decor to add an ethereal touch. Consider using georgette fabric for elegant curtains that allow natural light to filter through, creating a dreamy ambiance. With our extensive color palette, you can find the perfect georgette fabric to complement your existing decor or embark on a complete style overhaul.

Bridal Fabric – Crafting Unforgettable Moments

The bridal fabric at Indian Laces and Fabric goes beyond conventional expectations, offering a curated selection that transforms dreams into reality. Let's explore the intricacies of bridal fabric, from delicate lace overlays to opulent silk options. Whether you're a bride-to-be or a designer seeking the finest materials, our bridal fabric collection is a testament to craftsmanship and attention to detail. Revel in the joy of creating an ensemble that mirrors the magic of your special day.

Black and Gold Tassel Earrings

A Dance of Elegance Extend your fascination with black and gold tassel earrings by understanding the versatility of these accessories. Beyond being statement pieces for special occasions, these earrings can effortlessly transition from day to night. Explore the ways in which they complement various outfits, adding a touch of glamour to your everyday look. Discover the craftsmanship behind each piece and the thoughtfulness that goes into creating accessories that stand the test of time.

Customizing Your Space

An Artistic Endeavor Beyond individual elements, let's explore the art of harmonizing these choices to customize your living spaces. Discover the magic of layering textures, combining colors, and integrating different elements to create a cohesive and visually appealing environment. Gain insights into the principles of interior design and how you can apply them to reflect your personality throughout your home.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, Indian Laces and Fabric is not merely a marketplace; it's a source of inspiration for those who seek to infuse their living spaces with elegance and creativity. This extended guide has provided a more in-depth look into our offerings, empowering you to make informed choices that resonate with your unique style. As you embark on your journey of transforming your space, remember that every piece from Indian Laces and Fabric is a testament to quality, craftsmanship, and the pursuit of beauty.

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forsgatejewelry · 3 months

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Long Pink Tassel Earrings Pave Faceted Rhinestone.

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colourfuln0thing · 7 months

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The Gabriela Hearst Collection uses a mostly complimentary, black and white, colour scheme. It uses some unique, eye-catching colours and textiles too, giving this collection a formal, but fun look. It does shy away from daring necklines and prints which makes it feel fresh and exciting. The glittery pieces manage to still look classy and amazing on everyone. Not to mention the dressing up of suits and disregarding gender norms.

The androgenous look of the black, silk jacket with mesh pants is daring and I love it! The mesh under shirt gives it a sharer professional look without losing any style. The pocket details and fit of the suit make it look futuristic and cutting-edge.

The monochromatic scheme to this look is everything! A bold colour, deep v-neckline, and razor-sharp seams let this look take over the room. The vibrant tassel bag pulls it together, as a wild companion to this striking suit.

I feel in love with the black and white scheme in this look. Mesh is such a fun, youthful fabric and the black against it really makes it stand out. The long hair and chunky, black bag add the the contrast. The complimentary colour scheme in the centerpiece of this piece. I like that it re-branded the cow print of 2020 in a modern way.

The fitted suit with flare legs is so sleek. A black, sparkley look is always safe and the white fishnet accents give hidden detail to this look. The short hair and natural makeup really let the dress take up the stage.

The unique cut-outs in this eye turning dress gives the top a very flattering shape. the beautiful swoop neck balances out its modest length. It's open top also highlights a nice pair of earrings to compliment the unique texture that is both dimensional and elegant.

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chic-a-gigot · 1 year

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La Mode illustrée, no. 15, 8 avril 1866, Paris. Toilettes de Mme Bréant-Castel, 58 bis. Rue Ste. Anne. Coiffures de Mr Croisat, 76, Rue de Richelieu. Ameublements et Bronzes de la Mon de Commission Gle, Rue d'Hauteville, 56. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Description de toilettes:

Robe en poult-de-soie noir. La garniture se compose de deux biais de taffetas blanc recouverts de guipure Cluny noire, et surmontés de deux lisérés, le premier bleu, le second blanc; ces lisérés se répètent sur toutes les coutures réunissant les lés. Corsage décolleté carrément avec deux longues basques par derrière, garnies comme la robe; même garniture (biais de taffetas blanc couvert de guipure noire) sur le bord supérieur du corsage, qui est boutonné par devant. Manches plissées sur leur bord supérieur avec trois pattes lisérées en bleu et blanc; guipure blanche montante en mousseline à l'intérieur du corsage; châle de cachemire noir brodé avec hautes guipures noires. Chapeau de crêpe bleu avec étoiles en perles blanches.

Robe de dessous en moire antique blanche. Tunique-péplum en taffetas vert-lumière, brodée en cordonnet d'or; à chaque pointe du péplum un gland d'or. Corselet-ceinture pareil à la tunique, à pointes brodées et terminées par un gland d'or. Corsage drapé en mousseline blanche, avec épaulettes vertes à pointes ornées de glands. Coiffure de pampre mélangé de grains d'or, avec cordes d'or tombant par devant sur la poitrine. Collier en émeraudes; boucles d'oreilles assorties au collier. Gants blancs à trois boutons; bracelets genre Campana.

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Black silk poult-de-silk dress. The trim consists of two white taffeta biases covered with black Cluny guipure, and surmounted by two borders, the first blue, the second white; these edgings are repeated on all the seams joining the lengths. Squarely necklined bodice with two long basques behind, trimmed like the dress; same trim (white taffeta bias covered with black guipure) on the upper edge of the bodice, which is buttoned in front. Pleated sleeves on their upper edge with three tabs edged in blue and white; high white muslin guipure inside the bodice; black cashmere shawl embroidered with high black guipures. Blue crepe hat with white pearl stars.

White antique moire underdress. Tunic-peplum in light green taffeta, embroidered in gold cord; at each point of the peplum a gold tassel. Corselet-belt similar to the tunic, with embroidered points and ending in a gold tassel. White chiffon draped bodice, with green pointed shoulder pads adorned with tassels. Vine headdress mixed with gold grains, with gold cords falling in front on the chest. Emerald necklace; earrings matching the necklace. Three button white gloves; Campana type bracelets.

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