#but make her sailor outfit more accurate to something she would wear
Text
Baby sister decided Halloween next year we are all doing sailor moon lmao.
#specifically bc she wants my cat to be s-ailor m-oon#at first she said I can be tuxed-o mas-k#but I think if we do it I’ll be s-ailor u-ranus#but make her sailor outfit more accurate to something she would wear#and more butch lol#bc I ain’t wearing a skirt 💀
1 note
·
View note
Text
Rating Kit’s entire collection
We are finally back with another ratings post! I’m sorry i can’t do these more often, they take a lot of time and energy, so I’m usually to busy to sit down and make them, now nearly a whole year has passed since i started this series!
But thats alright, because we only have 5 more to go after this one, and hopefully i can do them more often after this. I thought about removing unessasary commentary, but alot of you said you liked it, so i kept it in.
anyway i guess lets get into it! since i go in order of the year it takes place, its kit’s turn!
Doll and meet outfits
1. original meet outfit
doll: 10/10 I love her short bob! it really helps reflect her time periods fashion trends so well!
outfit: 8/10 I don’t particually care for this outfit, but i do love how true it is to the time period and the detail that the skirt is supposed to be made of a flour sack.
2. beforever meet outfit
4/10 what the hell is this. I mean it is a subjectively cute dress, but it doesnt fit kit’s story at all! It is way to modern, but even if it is historically accurate, that type of printed fabric and decoration would be way to expensive for the kitterages to buy for an everyday dress for her.
3. original meet accesories
10/10 omg cute! i’ve said it before, and will say it again. I love historical coins!
4. beforever meet accesories
5/10 its so... empty. now there is nothing to put in her purse :(
School collection
1. school dress
9/10 again, not really my personal favorite but i do love the little... flower boquets? (not for sure what they are the pic is to blurry)
2. book bag and supplies
10/10 i love the dog binder
3. swivel chair and desk
10/10 I always love seeing how the girl’s desks have evolved and changed depending on their setting. It���s become a niche interest of mine.
4. school lunch
10/10 i love the tin lunch box with the train!
holiday collection
1. christmas dress
10/10 so festive and cute! I adore the dog pin on her collar
2. Aviator doll
10/10 I havn’t had the chance to read her books yet, but i heard she likes amelia earhart? if so, that is such an amazing interest!
3. Waffle iron
9/10 I like the little recipe cards, and the holly branches too but idk if those were actually included. My only gripe with this is that kit’s iron should have been square shaped, the round ones were a bit more expensive in the 30s.
4. typewriter set
10/10 I always have had an interest in typewriters. Like i said before, i havn;t read her books yet, who is the photo of?
Birthday collection
1. birthday dress
10/10 it looks like a green version of annie’s dress!
2. grace the dog
10/10 i’ve always wanted a dog like this
3. party treats
8/10 i don’t really like this set, but i do like the cute cake.
4. glasswear and linens
10/10 reminds me of my grandmas house, probably because she grew up when this was popular lmao
5. table and chairs
10/10 this is one of my favorite table and chair sets they have made
Summer collection
1. overalls
10/10 hello lgbt community
2. hobo camp supplies
10/10 i’d buy this just for the binoculars tbh
winter collection
1. coat
10/10 looks cute!
2. hat and mittens
9/10 wish they came with the coat
3. photography set
10/10 i love everything about this set
bedtime collection
1. beach pajamas and slippers
10/10 aw it looks like a little sailor suit!
2. sriped nightie
8/10 I beleive this one is based on her movie? I don’t like it as much as her original pjs
3. day bed and bedding
9/10 not a fan of the green and pink combo but still like the bed overall
4. bedtime extras
10/10 omg the old timey phone!!!
5. trunk
10/10 its good as far as trunks go. Although i wonder how much it can actually hold?
extra outfits
1. treehouse outfit
10/10 cute, but it kinda reminds me of southpark 💀
2. baseball fan outfit
10/10 i like how the also gave her an interest in baseball
3. beach outfit
9/10 cute, but the goggles have me hollaring 💀
4. school skirt set
8/10 its very pretty, but looks like something an adult would wear back then, not a kid.
5. play suit
10/10 so cute
4. summer dress
8/10 i absolutely adore this dress, but i feel like this one is a bit to expensive/girly for kit (unless mrs. kitterage made it?)
extra accessories
1. beach chair
10/10 i’ve never seen one of these chairs in real life funnily enough
2. cookstove
10/10 looks just like the one i found in my grandmas storage room
3. produce and preserves
10/10 cottagecore vibes
4. washday set
10/10 my #1 post from this year with the most notes was talking about this set
5. holiday baking set
10/10 i love baking, so seeing vintage baking stuff reminds me of looking through old cookbooks.
6. scooter
10/10 this is possibly the most iconic thing in her whol collection. even if you don’t know much about her collection, you know this.
movie outfits
1. floral dress
9/10 maybe unpopular, but i actually like this dress on her. it feels just the right amount of “kit” without being to frilly
2. treehouse
10/10 so cute
3. reporter dress
10/10 same as i said with the first one
4. reporter accessories
10/10 it fits right in with her collection
Beforever
1 reporter dress
7/10 i like it but it just feels.. off?
2. photographer outfit
0/10 what the frick frack, paddy wack, cracker jack, thumbtack is this shit??? what the hell was ag thinking? not only is it ugly as hell, but it also, again, does not fit her character or story at all. It looks like something a 5 year old wear where to easter sunday church service in 2012.
3. chicken keeping set
4/10 again with the pastels? is this supposed to fill the viod left by her old overall set? why AG, why.
4. one peice pajamas
3/10 ugly color and pattern
5. play dress
6/10 actually kinda cute. a breath of fresh air after the last 3. But still not very fitting for her.
6. mini golf outfit
5/10 i want to like it but i don’t. like i said, I havn’t read her books, does she ever play mini golf?
7. christmas outfit
4/10 definantly christmassy, but its just a cheap copy of her old dress, but worse. also the fabric is a ripoff of addy’s dress.
8. gardening outfit
5/10 well its at least better than the last overall outfit, but thats a low bar.
Beforever accesories
1. bed and bedding
4/10 its a weird, vibrant version of her old bed. my eyes are watering
2. radio set
8/10 alright, i admit that i like this one
3. christmas stocking
9/10 this is cute. still knocked a point off just because im mad about beforever >:(
4. garden accessories
6/10 cheap knockoff version of her produce and perserves set
5. garden stand
5/10 no comment
ruthies collection
1. doll and meet outfit
10/10 love ruthie. i know that she would have rocked half the outfits in this post. (not #2 of beforever though. that should be burned)
2. meet accesories
10/10 very cute
3. play outfit
8/10 i don’t know how to feel
4. satin pjs
10/10 ruthies pjs walked so that rebecca’s pjs could run
5. christmas dress
10/10 it has a similar vibe to samantha’s christmas dress, yall know what i mean?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
That’s all! As we have seen again, beforever has absolutely massacered my girls. I hope AG restores her old collection, but thats laughable considering their antics lately. I hope y’all liked this post!
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
Allocating Your Aesthetic Budget: Sailor Moon Edition
Sailor Moon is a show that undoubtedly built a powerhouse of a visual brand. Should I even bother posting a screenshot of the sailor scouts, given that I am 100% confident anyone reading this can recall them instantly? I guess it won’t hurt:
Anime is often really good at creating iconic designs like this, through repetition of the visuals. It is awkward in live action shows if characters just wear the same outfit every scene (what, they only own one outfit? Are they homeless/work in the tech industry?), but animation gives us enough aesthetic “distance”, an awareness that this isn’t accurate to real life, that you can buy into the conceit. By wearing the same outfit every time, it just becomes the character. Not to mention a studio can really save quite a few bucks by streamlining production with neat tricks like having only one character design to animate - when you are on a shoe-string budget, like pretty much every anime in the 90’s was, every cut corner counts.
What is interesting about Sailor Moon is that most of the time it doesn’t really use this conceit at all.
-----------
Episode 15 of Sailor Moon’s first season has, in its opening act, this shot of all of the Senshi (at the time) talking to the plot-of-the-day character, who clearly trains rock Pokemon in 16-bit caves in his off hours:
If you knew nothing about these three characters, you could probably infer about 80% of their personality just from their outfits. Usagi (the blond one in the middle, if that's necessary) is wearing:
Light pastel colours, with pink on top of that: girly, feminine, bubbly and breezy
Short-but-not-too-short of a skirt, and red heels: cares about fashion, wants to project an image of being a woman with a romantic hint to it
Long-twin tails w/ buns: Contrasting the shoes, she is still immature and childish. It also means she is the protagonist of an anime
Rei (far right) rocks a very different look:
T-shirt and jean shorts, shoes over heels: sensible, practical, a bit sporty
Very short shorts, long black hair: Confident, a bit aggressive, and suggestive of a more overt sexuality
Ami (far left) settles into a more restrained vibe with:
Full, long, but sleeveless dress, bob-cut hair: Chaste, more conservative, but not to the point of prudishness; particularly with the length (and the hand posture, shielding her body) probably a bit shy
Monochrome blue colour in outfit & hair: reserved, serene, possessing a calm demeanor
I know I have seen the show already, but really none of these details are a stretch - this is just the language of fashion. And all of these outfits are outfits that the characters have never (or rarely) worn before up until this point. The cast of Sailor Moon, far from that animation conceit of “standard outfits”, change clothes all…
the….
time.
I just randomly clicked on episodes to find these, it requires no hunting
And while it isn’t always as spot on as the top picture, they all in some way embody the language of visual design to speak to the personality of the characters. If you want to see more, check out one of the multiple tumblrs dedicated to the everyday clothing the Sailor Senshi wear, because of course those exist.
If this was a 2010’s Kyoto Animation show, pointing this out would be the end of it - every one of their shows has this level of impeccable detail. Sailor Moon is notable in that it is not at all that kind of show; the animation and designs in Sailor Moon take perpetual shortcuts to get the job done. I don’t think the transformation sequences need to be belabored - the way they permitted the team to recycle identical animation sequences, multiple times per episode, was surely a godsend to the production schedule. Yet not all of the budget limitations are so prettily masked:
I’m sure they finished the background art in the...VHS release?
The show is filled with dirty animation, unfinished backgrounds, backgrounds that are a simple color gradient for no clear reason, and so on. It is clear that the Sailor Moon team did not have the resources for every detail - which is why the decision of what details they did choose to prioritize is so interesting.
----------
What is the point of Sailor Moon? I do believe that shows have “points”; and by that I don’t mean a message or theme but a core appeal to an audience, something specific that they will get out of the show. Almost every show appeals along multiple axes, and Sailor Moon is no exception, but I want to focus on one: aesthetic identification.
If you learn someone is a Sailor Moon fan, there is the obvious follow-up question you have to ask, namely “which Sailor Senshi are you?” It’s the which-Harry-Potter-house-are-you question of anime, a horoscope where you can choose your sign (in this case literally). The premise of this concept is not hard for media to execute on - it is just personality traits and aesthetics grouped together under a label, a basic building block of media and clickbait internet quizzes. Harry Potter, ironically, raised up its memetic question almost by accident, as its focus is so squarely on House Gryffindor that the others are almost forgotten; it was just so mind-bogglingly popular that it didn’t matter.
Sailor Moon, however, takes this concept and allocates so much of its aesthetic budget into making it a centerpiece of the show. Sailor Moon herself is a klutzy, lazy romantic, Sailor Mercury is a shy, earnest bookworm, and so on, with none of them ever really becoming very complex characters. However, the show devotes itself to making you *feel* these archetypes as strongly and intricately as possible. All of those outfit changes are chosen because not only do real girls care about their outfits and can therefore identify more strongly with characters who do the same, but so they can constantly emulate their archetype in diverse, different ways. The show doesn't have the budget for intense action scenes, so after Sailor Moon engages in her hyper-serious transformation sequences, she proceeds to, nearly every time, bumble through the combat scenes like this:
Oh sure, the scenes are done this way because it is funny (and good comedy can be done on any budget - these shots are frequently still frames with motion lines!), but it is also done this way because Sailor Moon is a total screw-up, and if you identify with that it is validating to see someone “just like you” able to pull off wins despite it all. The transformation sequences are not only beautiful animation that showcases aspirational power, but are also crafted to highlight the personalities of the Senshi in question - unless you think aggressive, combative Rei got fire powers by coincidence. Half of the run-time of every episode is spent, not on the plot du-jour, but on light-hearted personal squabbles between the cast because those scenes are not just funny, but also allow for far more moments of character expression.
All of that work pays off in building with the audience, not a connection with a character who reflects their identity in total, but a connection that reflects one aspect of their identity in an extremely deep (dare I say multifaceted?) way. I think if you were to describe Sailor Moon as a “shallow” show, you would actually be right to say so, in a sense. These characters will never have the true depth of personality, themes and so on of a more ‘adult’ show. But those adult shows have to spend their effort somewhere - for all that the themes of say Evangelion or Paranoia Agent are pristinely detailed and impactful, you aren’t ever going to be memorizing the moves of their transformation sequences. The way Sailor Moon committed so strongly to fleshing out the archetypes the Senshi stood for is, I think, one of the keys to how this cast of five became so iconic.
Not even their school uniforms match! They had to spend time in-universe *justifying* this!
----------
A Final Note:
At least, everything I’ve said here applies to Sailor Moon at its peaks. The show, however, is not one without its stumbles, even in Season 1. This section doesn’t flow into the core essay too well, but I wanted to note it because if you were to watch Sailor Moon today, you might struggle to feel the dynamic outlined above. The biggest culprit here is the length - Season 1 is 46 episodes long, and sections of it most certainly drag. They also take a startlingly long time to introduce the cast - this choice builds tension around their arrival, but it also means the later Senshi get a lot less time to establish themselves. Sailor Venus in particular gets hamstrung by this - she is introduced and then immediately arc plot elements sweep the narrative, and so she is left as a hollow shell for some time. The pacing of the show is undoubtedly flawed.
I think Sailor Moon is a show that you do have to keep its time and place in mind for - namely, middle schoolers and anime nerds watching it on broadcast TV in the 90’s. As an adult you “get” the point of the show pretty quickly, and get satiated on it almost as fast. Watching it all in a few sittings only heightens this problem. For a younger audience, and one that is waiting for a week between episodes with no internet for plot reminders, all that extra time is needed to jog memories and build connections. And younger audiences just have that limitless commitment to the things they love! If you think no one could actually enjoy seeing the same transformation sequence for the 30th time, watch it with someone who would have died for this show when they were 10 and you will be disabused of that notion *very* quickly.
Still, we can’t travel back in time - Sailor Moon is a show of its era. There are “filler-reduced” guides out there, though I caution that the plot of Sailor Moon is absolutely not the point of the show in comparison to the character dynamics, and so sometimes the filler is the best part (Cat-Rhett Butler is the best character in the show YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT). Certainly, however, some method must be used to cut down on its length. If you are going to be a first time viewer in adulthood, that reality should be kept in mind, and if you do accept it for what it is you can really appreciate its core appeal - and don’t forget to finish it off with a 1990′s era internet personality quiz to really wrap it up!
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fashion design for your OCs
Doing a different post from normal, but something that gets commented on a lot with my artwork is my fashion design. Often this comes along with the statement “I wish I could design clothes like that”. Heck, I’ve even got a commission on my plate which is JUST to design an outfit, because the commissioner feels like they don’t know enough about fashion! So I wanted to talk about fashion and how to go about designing clothing for an original character.
The first thing I’ll say is that if you want to draw fashion, you have to study fashion. It’s just like anatomy - yes, you have a body, but unless you take the time to study how the body moves and fits together, you will never draw truly accurate bodies. Same with fashion - even though you wear clothing, unless you take the time to study how clothing is designed, put together, and the trends it follows, you will never truly feel comfortable designing fashion for your OCs.
The non-fashion artists with the best fashion designs are the ones that take their cues from real world fashion. Naoko Takeuchi, the creator of Sailor Moon, is a prime example. When you look at the fashions used in both the manga and the show, they feel like clothing that people would actually wear, and they reflect the characters’ personalities (this post goes into more detail on that aspect).
That’s because she drew her inspiration from real fashion of the 1990s - which is why a lot of the outfits can seem a little dated now (though still very cute!).
Comic artist Kevin Wada is known for his illustrations of superheroes in casual fashion. His designs are always sharp and on-point, and, again, it’s because he pulls from real-life designs. You can read the thought process behind the above image here.
Even Hirohiko Araki, the creator of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, which is known for it’s cuckoo-bananas fashion designs, pulled inspiration from high fashion illustrations and photos of the 1980s.
You can especially see the influence in Giorno and Bruno of Part 5, whose outfits would look right at home on a 1980s Italian fashion runway, such as Versace, Moschino, or Gucci.
(Versace 1991 RTW collection)
Hell, Araki’s signature weird poses are even taken from high fashion photo shoots, and there was a legit fashion show inspired by his artwork, which you can read more about here.
My point in all of this is that you have GOT to look at real-life fashion in order to draw fictional fashion. The things we wear has meaning, it follows social, political, religious trends. It builds off what has come before and strives to find something new.
So, where do you go to learn about fashion?
A great place to start is by looking at sewing patterns from various eras. Before the 1980s, a lot of housewives opted to make their own clothing rather than buying it, and so there was a huge industry of sewing patterns made available for purchase. These patterns followed the trends at the time, and cover both adult and children’s fashion. Many of them were designed by famous fashion designers.
The Vintage Pattern Wikia has an archive of lots of vintage patterns that you can look through if you’re designing a character in a particular era. Many of them are every-day looks, which may help you with inspiration for casual apparel.
Another option is to just draw your characters in existing fashion designs that you just think are cool. I think some people consider this ‘cheating’ or ‘stealing’, because the online art community has a weird relationship to references, which is unfortunate. But if it’s good enough for Sailor Moon, it’s good enough for you!
(Source, with more examples)
Copying existing designs will help you get a feel for fashion, especially what goes with what, though of course if you copy an outfit exactly, be sure to credit the original designer!
Once you get the hang of drawing from references, you can then start to put together your own outfits using references. I highly recommend getting a Pinterest, doing a search for a fashion trend you’re interested in (or hell, even just ‘fashion’ or ‘costume design’) and building up your own catalogue of outfits that you like. Then, you can put different pieces together, make changes, and generally build your own outfits.
Here’s an example of a part of my fashion reference board:
And an example of an outfit that I referenced and modified:
(Cropped for gore, the full drawing is here of you want to see it)
And lastly, the thing that has honestly helped me the most in my fashion design... Project Runway.
I am dead serious, Project Runway has helped me more than any other resource when it comes to learning about fashion design. The designers on the show don’t hold your hand and explain everything they’re doing, but as you watch you’ll begin to pick up on the terms they use, the inspiration they reference, and their techniques. It’s also about creating something new in the world of fashion, so it’s a good resource for seeing how other people come up with new, fresh designs. They also frequently talk about the “woman they’re designing for” which can help you to understand what designs are considered more junior vs matronly, streetwear vs gala, etc.
Anyways, this was a long post, thank you for reading the whole thing! I hope it was helpful. If you have any questions about coming up with fashion design for more specific applications, like, say, how tie worldbuilding into fashion, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll do my best to answer!
#art#artists on tumblr#original characters#fashion#fashion design#reference#tutorial#advice for artists#long post
205 notes
·
View notes
Note
Rereading your gorgeous SM/KHR cross idea and wondering how it would go if they meet earlier? Maybe where Ikkuko realises her no-good brother has a wife & kid and decides Nana needs to know what he has gotten her into? I just think babyTsuna needs more support and two cousin & extended guardians & friends would be amazing. Especially if Tsuna's first flame use is discovered/understood in the magic framework - Tsuna magically willing together an outfit & catchphases because that is what you do ;)
… Oh. Oh, my gods that would be glorious. Let me see, let me see… ok.
So it would have to diverge right around when Chibiusa shows up, because that’s the first time Usagi having relatives outside her household is brought into the narrative. So Usagi, having seen Chibiusa brainwash her parents and brother goes off about not having any cousins. Except oh dear Ikkuko has a good-for-nothing criminal for a little brother. Usagi is furious and also curious and it all cumulates in 12 year old Tsuna getting a surprise visit from his relatives and his “little sister”.
Tsuna doesn’t have a little sister! Cue the screaming and the panic (from Tsuna) and intent interest (from Usagi and Luna), because Tsuna’s seal may be fundamentally horrible but it does have a nice side effect of keeping his Flames and mind safe from outside tampering.
Shingo, being the naturally suspicious brat that he is, twigs to something being wrong because his cousin keeps insisting that he’s an only child. Tsuna’s protests about Chibiusa make more of an impact on Shingo because Tsuna is a new presence in the family and therefore Tsuna’s shrieks are not automatically dismissed as jealousy the way “stupid Usagi’s” dramatics were. Which all leads to Shingo and Tsuna investigating the discrepancy in Shingo’s memories and accidentally discovering that Usagi is Sailor Moon in the process.
Tsuna and Shingo are targeted by and/or get caught up in a Black Moon plot shortly after they discover that Usagi is a Magical Girl. Usagi panics when she finds her cousin and her little brother critically injured and/or brainwashed by the enemy and Moon Crystal Heals them both at the same time.
Tsuna’s seal disintegrates.
Tsuna and Shingo promptly burst into Sky Flames that contain a hefty degree of prismatic rainbow glitter.
Usagi panics more.
The boys are not any calmer.
Tsuna flash-crystalizes a tree. Shingo turns a garden gate into a portal that dumps all three of them into the throne room of the Moon Palace.
Praise be to the All-Seeing Void for the Palace AI that Queen Serenity left behind, because none of these flailing morons are calm enough to take the Sudden Magical Awakening with any grace. The AI directs them to a testing chamber where they can find out who the boys Patrons are. Shingo is a Knight of Janus (with power over doorways, beginnings, and ends), and Tsuna is a Knight of Sancus (with power over loyalty, honesty, and oaths). Usagi finally manages to regain coherency and explains the history of the Silver Millennium and also why they’re all magic.
Assumptions are made.
Assumptions like Usagi’s Lunar Inheritance cross contaminating her younger relatives through their blood connection. None of them have any idea of the Flames being anything except for Magic as a result of post-apocalypse reincarnation. Usagi drops her transformation and tries to do the glowing-without-tranforming fully thing she saw the boys do.
Her clothes shred apart under the force of White Sky Flames. Cue more shrieking. Usagi promptly summons up the ribbons and forms her Senshi uniform. Then she makes the boys swear themselves to secrecy. The boys agree because it’s not as if their clothes fared any better.
Shingo has a few moments of disassociation as he reconciles his flighty big sister with his hero Sailor Moon. Tsuna is having a small moment of panic over the idea of fighting demons by moonlight. Then Usagi gives the boys a crash-course in accessing their magical powers because they’re suck on the moon until Shingo can control his portals enough to get them home.
Thankfully, not only does the eventual transformation provide a semi-coherent users manual for their magic powers, but dropping the transformation restores their clothing to an undamaged state.
They do eventually make it back home. Whereupon they are hustled off by the rest of the Senshi for a debrief and also a rather frantic health check. Because Shingo and Tsuna are magic now and what theeeeeee ever-loving hell how did this happen?
Background to the hysterics of the Lunar Royal Shenanigans, Ikkuko has been getting to know Nana and has a 10 pound cast-iron skillet with her stupid little brother’s name on it. Kenji is prudently hiding behind his newspaper when his wife’s vindictive muttering about no-good deadbeat shames on the family name start rising in volume.
Mamoru avoids making an ass of himself because his fiancées family drama has been distracting him from his nightmares. Also the reality of Shingo and Tsuna waking up their Magic Powers is a huge, glaring difference from the “visions” Mamoru is being sent that he’s rightfully suspicious of how accurate they could really be.
Chibiusa is less likely to run wild or act out because her little trick on the Tsukino’s has gotten wildly out of hand and she’s worried it’ll get worse if she tries to correct it. However, Chibiusa’s initial relationship with Usagi is also a great deal better than it was in canon because Usagi has been so preoccupied with meeting and getting to know Tsuna and Nana that she has less energy to spare for getting worked up about Chibiusa being around, and also because Mamoru isn’t avoiding her Usagi isn’t displacing her resentment about that onto Chibiusa either.
So as soon as Usagi catches on to the fact that Chibiusa is the target of the Black Moon plots Usagi’s instinctive protectiveness of her secret future daughter ramps all the way up because of course Usagi has Hyper Intuition too and the Vongola Tri-Ni-Sette gift is being able to look up and down your current timeline. And so. The Lunar Royals close ranks with all due speed, and Chibiusa is accepted and welcomed with an understanding of her reasons for the brainwashing that took a lot longer to reach in canon.
The Dark Moon Clan get their asses Royally kicked. Pun intended.
The trip to Crystal Tokyo ends the arc, and Pluto is hella confused by the Knights of Janus and Sancus. This isssss… wrong. She doesn’t know where she went wrong but things definitely went wrong somewhere. Oh dear.
Also Neo-Queen Serenity doesn’t remember meeting Chibiusa as a teenager. That should be telling but it’s overlooooooked. XD
Tsuna goes back to Namimori, secure in the knowledge that he has his relatives to support him even if he’s still “dame-Tsuna”. Shingo gets regular practice making portals between Juuban and Namimori because Usagi may whine and complain about it herself but like hell is she letting her little brother and baby cousin get away with being undertrained. There’s no telling when the next Enemy will show up.
Chibiusa comes back for Senshi training, and is doted on by her mother’s past self and her father’s past self and her two Uncles.
Chibiusa treasures her time with Shingo and Tsuna, because they’re weren’t there in Crystal Tokyo and Chibiusa is terrified of what that means. She’s hoping that they just didn’t have a Lunarian lifespan in her original timeline. She’s hoping that with their magic having woken up because of the changes Chibiusa’s presence made to the timeline that they’ll live to see the future Chibiusa comes from.
Chibiusa hopes, but there is a corner of her mind that is expecting the worst. Because Chibiusa is 900 years old and she didn’t know her mother had a little brother until she travelled to the past.
This is where KHR canon comes into play, because KHR introduces the concept of multiple timelines and dimensions as being related to but inherently separated from one another. Chibiusa didn’t travel to the past of her timeline, but to the past of a similar timeline. Chibiusa bringing up Usagi having a cousin changed the timeline. Even Pluto is clueless about the consequences of this. It’s fabulous. ^_^
The Mistress 9 and the search for the Holy Grail thing happens. Everybody gets their power-ups, and the Outer Senshi learn to Believe In The Power Of Love or else. Sailor Moon in Hyper Dying Will Mode is a thing of beauty and existential terror.
Due to the teeny-tiny fact that his seal is gone and all the damage it caused to his psyche has been magically bandaged by Usagi’s healing power, Tsuna is recovering from his trauma much faster than he did in canon. Not having Reborn sitting around to snipe at him for shits and giggles helps. Of course, Tsuna being Tsuna and a Sky and also a member of the Lunarian Royal Family means that he’s started tripping over his Inner Court with truly ridiculous frequency. This goes on for about a year but the relationships in question change very slowly due to Tsuna disappearing to be with his cousins whenever he’s not supposed to be at school.
But! Before anything can actually get resolved we have Reborn show up! Yay! ^_^
And now the KHR Daily Life arc is running congruent to the SM Dread Moon Circus events and it’s a mad banquet of chaos. Reborn is caught wrong-footed more often than he’s comfortable with. The fact that when Tsuna gets shot with the Dying Will Bullet he ends up wearing a sliver-embroidered version of Primo’s suit, complete with cape, is a mystery that Reborn is still trying to figure out.
But hey, at least Tsuna is actively recruiting his Guardians. That’s nice to see.
Tsuna called Usagi on the communicator to wail hysterically about being a Mafia Heir and they took him to the moon so he could hyperventilate in peace for a while. It helped a lot with coming to terms with the situation. Usagi has rightfully pointed out that Ikkuko’s tendency to snarl about Iemitsu makes a lot of sense if she knew her brother was a criminal. So yeah.
Usagi and Shingo stay well away from Namimori at Tsuna’s request. The last thing he wants to see is Reborn’s reaction to more of Primo’s descendants being of trainable age. Luckily Nana’s belief that Chibiusa is her daughter is conditional to Nana speaking to Chibiusa within the last 24 hours. Otherwise she doesn’t recall Chibiusa at all. Which means Reborn has no idea that Tsuna has cousins and a niece living nearby.
Tsuna and Shingo being part of the battles creates an opening for Tigereye, Fisheye, and Hawkeye to get flipped and because Endimiyon is paying more attention this time around the Prince of Earth takes them into his court. So during the “leeching life from the Earth causes Mamoru to fall into a malaise” drama, there’s someone else there to see the ghosts of the Shitennou trying their best to comfort their Prince.
Which naturally spawns a whole other side plot about Mamoru learning to use the Golden Crystal properly so he can pull one of Usagi’s tricks and resurrect his Court. This will, of course, eventually succeed because I like the Shitennou and I think they deserved better than what they got in canon.
Nehellenia gets smashed at around the same time the Ring battles are announced. The confrontations with Squalo and Leviathan happen, and Tsuna panics because there are Mafia Assassins coming for his Court and Tsuna isn’t the member of his family with enough raw power to raise the dead by resetting the entire planetary timeline back by a year.
So Tsuna may just enlist Shingo’s help to abduct all of his Guardians and associated family members because panic and Lunarian protective instincts are not a pretty combination. The Namimori 10th Gen Crew stares blankly at the lovely view of North America offered from the balcony of the Moon Palace as Shingo pats Tsuna’s back and reassures him that “Aneki sent Mama to deal with the Family Shame so it should be safe to go home in a few days”.
Usagi blows in, radiating enough enraged Sky Flames to put even Hibari on his ass and promptly squashes Tsuna in a hug as she promises to be there and turn anyone who wants to hurt her “cute fluffy baby cousin” into dust. Fite her. Usagi dares you.
The news from Tsuna that the Mafia had discovered magic inherited from Silver Millennium citizens being reincarnated on Earth shook the Senshi up and they’re a lot more aggressive about their Guardianship of the Sol System then they were in canon. Also they are planning a massive social reform because do you have any idea how useful more magic users would be when the Enemy comes knocking? Even just having Shingo and Tsuna to help with the fights has caused significant changes to how quickly and successfully the Senshi were able to deal with various threats ever since Chibiusa first popped into the timeline.
So yeah, Tsuna has been funnelling everything he learned about how the Flame Mafia works back to Usagi and her Court so they can figure out how useful they’re going to be when it comes to reestablishing the Sol Kingdom. Having Tsuna’s new Court get killed off by professional assassins before they start working on that was not in the plan.
Something along the lines of the following conversation happens:
“Jyuudaime is a UMA?”
“I’m a Lunarian.”
“You’re an alien!”
“And you are probably a Martian, Hayato! Who cares!”
Then the Senshi drag everyone off for a training montage that starts with learning how to complete a transformation because trying to channel Celestial Power through a squishy baseline non-magical human body is just asking for trouble. It’s a large part of why so many Flame Actives die young. They burn out because they keep getting halfway through the process and then they get stuck.
Meanwhile, back on Earth, Reborn is watching Iemitsu get his head caved in by a very pretty woman with Flames in her eyes and the type of voice projection that is unique to mothers and opera singers. Reborn would be more concerned about his dame student disappearing with his fledgling Famiglia so suddenly, except Ikkuko has made it very clear that she’s taken her nephew into her house until her horrible no good deadbeat criminal brother has left and taken his horrible no good wastrel criminal influence away from her sweet kind nephew.
So there, you drunken layabout shame on the family name.
Ikkuko flounces off, leaving Iemitsu heavily concussed and buried under about three kitchens worth of cast iron pans. Reborn doesn’t quite react fast enough to catch the Varia spy that was hanging around, but hopefully Xanxus has enough honour left to leave Ikkuko’s kids alone until after things are decided with Tsuna.
Of course, Reborn doesn’t need to worry about that because Usagi and Shingo are mysteriously nowhere to be found. Just like Tsuna and company are mysteriously nowhere to be found. How very mysterious. ^_^
The Ring Battles happen on far more even grounds, given that the Senshi have made the magic happen when it comes to the 10th Gen Guardians being able to use their Flames and associated Powers. It still comes down to the Sky Battle though, because drama. Tsuna looks at Xanxus from close range for the first time and oh.
So that’s where Chibiusa got her eyes.
Instead of Zero Point, Xanxus gets a face full of Moon Healing, complete with the mind melding memory sharing BELIEVE IN THE POWER OF LOVE blasting mystical heart-to-heart that brought Chibiusa back from the corruption of Wiseman’s Black Lady. There is so much glitter. Glitter everywhere. The Varia have no fucking clue what just happened. The CEDEF have no fucking clue what just happened. The attendant Arcobaleno have excellent poker faces but? They have no fucking clue what just happened.
The ghost of Primo and Secondo make guest appearances during Tsuna and Xanxus’ heart to heart. The most bedazzled of family feuds took place within the span of about 6 seconds. The fight ends. Xanxus spits out sparkles and concedes the Sky Ring to Tsuna.
Tsuna cackles, because he recognizes the Ring as being blood locked to his direct lineage and instinctively knows that the Ring is the best possible Channel for his powers. The Vongola Rings are gathered up and dropped on Luna and Artemis with polite requests that they study them and then fine tune or upgrade the Rings to match with Sol Kingdom expectations of Magic Foci.
The 10YL Arc is immediately derailed because Tsuna has experience with time travel to possible futures and he recognizes that they aren’t in their natural timeline anymore because the 10YL Tsuna didn’t have Usagi waiting in the wings to wreak holy righteous vengeance in response to his assassination.
Byakuran was not expecting to get lectured and then turned into a pile of glitter dust. No he was not.
The Sailor Stars have a lot more trouble dismissing the Senshi as childish and naive thanks to the Mafia politicking the Senshi have since been exposed to. Also, thanks to said Mafia information network, Usagi is informed of Mamoru’s death within hours of the plane exploding. Seiya’s attempts to charm Usagi are subsequently rejected without mercy because instead of feeling neglected by her boyfriend Usagi is in mourning.
The Galaxy Cauldron thing occurs with far less waffling around.
Then the Arcobaleno Trails happen, and Kawahira was not expecting the Crown Princess Serenity to show up and rip him a new one for being a jerk. Between the Silver and the Gold Crystals the Arcobaleno Curse is broken, the Vindice all get healed of their hatred and are living people again, and Kawahira gets put in time out on the Moon for being a jackass.
Mamoru and his Generals take point on dealing with Enma and the Simon because they are Earth Flame users and even before most of the life in the Sol System got wiped out Earth Mages were vanishingly rare. I mean, he knows now that the sharp decline in Earth’s magic-capable population was because of Metallica sneaking around and abducting them, but back at the time it was just an accepted fact that most Earth Born just didn’t have magic. Only now there’s this Mafia Family that does and given how Usage’s situation worked out Mamoru has suspicions.
Especially given how Mamoru was orphaned in a car crash and there was very little information available to be found on the “Chiba” family. Can we all say “cover up”?
Rei sticks an ofuuda on Daemon and exorcises him with extreme prejudice.
Mamoru and Usagi get married and the slow buildup to the creation of Crystal Tokyo begins.
The End. ^_^
#Sanjuno talks back#KHR x SM#music of the spheres#music of the spheres AU#magical knight Tsuna#Mafia Princess Usagi#fic I haven't written yet
272 notes
·
View notes
Text
Before MSA + 1: Halloween
Arthur had managed to put together something that acted like a diaper but which fitted into his pocket instead of around the hamster. “It takes a little bit to put them together though…”
Cadence seemed happy with the pocket diaper considering how much time she was spending in Arthur’s shirt and coat pockets.
“I wonder if you could incorporate it into your Halloween costume,” mused Vivi.
“Uh…What’s Halloween?” asked Arthur.
Sydney and Lewis gave Arthur startled looks. “You don’t know what Halloween is?!”
Arthur panicked a bit as he realized this was something everyone was supposed to know about. “My parents were super religious,” he said quickly. Sydney and Lewis seemed to accept it.
“Halloween evolved from the Celtic celebration of Samhain,” explained Vivi. “It was the ending of the year at sun down, but the new year didn’t start until the sun rose. Being outside of time as it were meant that ghosts and the like had an easier time manifesting. It probably makes magic easier and stronger too. At some point, people started wearing scary outfits to try and blend in or scare away the spirits. That ritual eventually became putting on costumes for fun and, in the case of kids, going around to houses and asking for treats.”
The other kids were staring at her in surprise at the info dump, while Arthur was wondering if this meant Halloween was technically a pagan holiday.
“Actually, the Catholic church took a lot of pagan holidays and incorporated them into their religion. Christmas takes place in December because that’s when a big festival called Saturnalia took place in the Roman empire. Evidence suggests that Jesus was actually born in Spring,” continued Vivi as if she’d predicted Arthur’s thoughts.
The more Arthur learned the more he wondered if the adults in his early life knew what they were doing.
“Anyway…My dad makes cosplay as a side job so if you want he can make you guys costumes too,” said Sydney.
Lewis nodded. “He always makes costumes for us.”
Vivi perked up. “Really?”
Sydney nodded. “But nothing super complicated, okay? He’s gotta budget.”
“What’s cosplay?” asked Arthur.
“Costume play,” explained Lewis. “People dress up like characters from anime or videogames that they love. Some of the outfits are really complicated or accurate.”
“We usually do a theme for Halloween,” continued Sydney.
“We did Sailor Moon for a couple of years,” said Lewis.
“Another time we were Ed and Al Elric,” said Sydney. “I’m not sure what we could do with four people.”
“Power Rangers?” suggested Vivi.
“There’s usually five of ‘em though,” said Sydney.
“Is that a big deal?” asked Arthur.
“Not really,” said Lewis. “It would just seem a little weird to be short a ranger.”
“So, we need a group of four people,” muttered Sydney. “All I can think of are Transformers, but that might be too complicated.”
“All I can think of is the Scooby Doo gang,” said Vivi.
Silence. The kids turned to stare at Ben. “Would Ben let us dye his fur?” asked Lewis.
“I have no idea,” admitted Vivi. “Would the dye be safe?”
“I have no idea,” repeated Sydney. “Dad knows a bit about hair dye…”
“I think you could get away with leaving him white and black,” said Arthur.
“So, who would be who?” asked Lewis.
Vivi and Sydney promptly pointed at Lewis. “Fred.” Then they pointed towards Arthur. “Shaggy.”
“You do have the muscle tone going on,” agreed Arthur.
And Lewis blushed because he was somehow the biggest one there despite (probably) being the youngest. “W-well, who’s gonna be Velma and Daphne?”
Sydney and Vivi exchanged looks. That was…less obvious. Both wore glasses, had relatively short statures, and were fairly tomboyish.
“You’re shorter,” said Vivi.
Sydney pouted. “Yeah, I am. Guess that makes me Velma…What kind of name is Velma?”
“I dunno.”
“Will we need a van?”
“None of us can drive,” pointed out Arthur.
“Maybe a toy or something,” suggested Lewis.
“Oh, yeah, that makes more sense,” admitted Arthur.
The four kids (and dog and hamster) just lay there for several minutes. It hadn’t been a particularly odd conversation, but something in the air seemed heavy, as if something life changing had just happened.
Then Ben started licking Arthur’s face, ending the moment. Arthur let out a laugh. “H-hey! Stop! Stop!”
Vivi grinned. “You’re saying ‘stop’, but you’re laughing.” Ben decided to switch targets and started licking Vivi instead. She giggled. “Ben!”
“We should teach him how to talk!” Ben turned his attention to Sydney. “Hey! Ew! Your breath smells like fish! Why does it smell like fish? You’re not a cat!”
“Ben’ll eat anything if you give him the chance,” said Vivi.
Lewis pulled a bag of chips out from somewhere and grinned. “Like this?” He popped the bag open. He was immediately tackled by the dog. “Ack!” Ben quickly stuck his head in the bag and quickly snapped up the contents before transferring his ministrations to Lewis. “Oh yuck! Your breath really does smell like fish!”
“Hold him for me,” said Vivi. “I’ll brush his teeth!”
The whole thing devolved into a wrestling match. No teeth were cleaned. Everyone needed a bath afterwards.
Sydney had been right about the Scooby Doo costumes being fairly simple to make. She hadn’t stopped to think about make-up and hairstyling though.
“Are you almost done?” asked Sydney Jr.
“Almost…Just one more pin…and done!” Sydney Sr stepped back to admire how Sydney looked with the brown bob wig in addition to the rest of her costume. “The shape of the glasses aren’t the same, but I don’t think anyone will care.”
Sydney Jr. twirled and did a hop-skip over to Vivi, who was messing with her noticeably longer orange wig. “How ‘bout you?”
“I prefer shorter hair. Hair this long just…gets in the way,” said Vivi as she glared distastefully at a lock of orange hair.
Sydney nodded. “I hear ya. I just want it long enough to ponytail it.” She glanced at the boys. “How ‘bout you two?”
Unlike the girls, the boys weren’t wearing wigs. They’d just had their hair styled into a close approximation of their chosen characters. Sydney Sr claimed this was because the wigs would look too bulky unless the boys were willing to shave their hair. They weren’t.
Arthur fingered his hair. “This doesn’t feel too different from usual besides the colors.” He was wearing green and red. He was coming to prefer bright colors like orange and yellow.
Lewis was happily studying his reflection. “I kind of like this hairstyle.” He turned to Sydney Sr. “Will you teach me how to do this?”
Sydney Sr gave him a grin. “Sure! I’ll get you some decent hair mousse. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go change into my costume.” On his way out, he ran into Hiro. “So, how’d Ben like the vegetable dye?”
“He tolerated it.” That was a lie. Ben had taken one look at the dye, snorted, and changed his fur color to the proper brown color.
“I’m leaving you alone with Noelle and the kids for a bit. Behave now.” And Sydney Sr hurried down the hallway.
Hiro raised an eyebrow. The Sydneys were pretty darn odd. Still, they got along with the rest of the family and friends, and Hiro did like them…in reasonable amounts.
He walked Ben over to the kids, who all started petting him. “Wow, this dye is really realistic,” said Lewis.
Sydney nodded. “My dad knows what he’s doing.”
“How you holding up boy?” asked Vivi. Ben licked her in response. “Good to know.”
“Oh, you kids look so cute like that,” said Noelle. “Let me get my camera!”
Hiro let the kids pose for the camera for several moments before clearing his throat. “Now, I don’t know how much you know about the holiday, but it is easier to come into contact with the supernatural starting tonight and lasting until November 2. It’s most intense on Halloween though. So, Mr. Scoville and I will be escorting you tonight. I have tools prepared to chase off anything that may take an untoward interest in your group, and you will all be spending the night here. Mr. Scoville also has some sort of repelling ability, so I’d imagine this is one of the safest places in the county.”
Arthur let out a sigh of relief. “That’s a relief.”
“Had some bad experiences?” asked Vivi.
Arthur nodded. “I just knew they were at the end of October. I didn’t know about the Halloween thing. Why does it get so much worse anyway?”
“That’s not something with a simple answer,” said Hiro. “Something makes…magic for lack of a better word more potent during these days, which makes it easier for people to see ghosts and for ghosts, along with other normally invisible entities, to become visible to people. It’s a good time for them to be heard if there’s something they want to get across to the mundane, living population.” Hiro glowered. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a tradition among the supernatural to have fun and try to scare humans. It’s what people are expecting to happen after all.”
Ben gave a barely noticeable shrug. Hiro wasn’t wrong, but it was more of a ‘teenagers messing around and doing things their parents won’t necessarily approve of’ sort of thing.
Arthur crossed his arms. “Well, I don’t like it, whatever it is…”
Vivi turned to Sydney and Lewis. “Have you guys ever noticed anything weird around this time of year?”
“I haven’t ever noticed anything,” said Sydney. “Lewis says there are ghosts all over the place though.”
Lewis nodded. “Yeah, some are pretty scary. It’s a lot more active in the cemetery and house. Sydney always spends the night since some of them look pretty scary.” Lewis made a face as something suddenly occurred to him. “Uh, this is the first Halloween we haven’t slept over at my house. Do you think Mom and Dad and Belle will be okay?”
“I put some ofudas up at your house that should keep away most dangerous entities,” reassured Hiro. “Honestly, you probably attract half of the activity so just spending time away from them will put a stop to a portion of the paranormal activity.”
“Huh, really? I had no idea,” said Lewis.
“Oh, yes, once ghosts figure out someone can see them word spreads very quickly.”
“Wait. I can’t see ghosts, so why do they keep following me around?” asked Arthur.
Hiro shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure why, but you…leak energy. Being around you is like it being Halloween all the time,” said Hiro. “You also have an aura that the supernatural find pleasing, like how kids will gravitate to a kitchen where cookies have just been cooked.”
“I could go for some cookies,” said Vivi.
“You’re going to be getting plenty of candy tonight,” said Noelle. “You can see about having cookies after you finish off the candy.”
Vivi grinned. “Challenge accepted.”
“No,” said Hiro.
“Aw…but-”
“No, you remember what happened last time,” said Hiro.
“Ooh, what happened last time?” asked Sydney.
“When she was five she ate all of her Halloween candy at once and didn’t sleep for three days,” explained Hiro. “She tried to feed Ben chocolate. Dogs can’t eat chocolate.”
Ben huffed because he could eat chocolate, thank you very much. Stupid need to hold up the illusion all the time. He couldn’t wait until Vivi was mature enough to know what he really was so he could relax at home. Not to mention it would be easier to snatch some of whatever that was Noelle was cooking.
Lewis must have noticed how Ben was staring longingly towards the kitchen because he grabbed a treat out of his pocket. “Would you like a Scooby Snack?”
Eh, it’ll do. Ben snapped it up and gave Lewis a lick of thanks.
“What’s taking your dad so long?” asked Vivi. “He said he was going to be a zombie. It can’t take that long to put on some torn clothing and fake blood.”
Sydney grinned. “Dad put in way more effort than that. There’s latex and make-up and contact lenses…”
“Mr. Scoville’s costumes are really complicated,” agreed Lewis.
Any further conversation was interrupted by a groaning sound. Everyone turned to see…a zombie. It was covered in bite marks, half rotten, had clouded over eyes, and dirty, torn clothing. It was completely unrecognizable as Sydney Sr.
“…Okay, that is a convincing zombie costume,” admitted Vivi.
“Thank you,” said Sydney Sr, briefly breaking character before going back to groaning.
“You look like a dead body!” said Arthur. “Which I guess is the point, but it’s creepy.”
Sydney Scoville groaned again. He sure was taking the zombie thing seriously.
“So…” Sydney Jr held up her treat bag. “Can we go trick-or-treating now?”
“Unnngh!”
“Taking that as a yes!”
Thankfully, the other adults decided to agree with the translation so the kids were able to head out. “There are a lot of costumes,” commented Arthur.
Vivi nodded. “Yep, it’s a popular holiday.”
“What a cute baby!” cooed Lewis at a young couple and their baby, all of them dressed like dinosaurs.
“Thank you!”
“But most of them seem to be younger than us,” continued Arthur.
“That guy’s older than us,” pointing at a guy dressed like a robot.
“People just prefer to go to parties once they get older. I don’t know why. They’re sooo boring,” complained Vivi. “Where’s the darkness? Where’s the creepy shadows? Where’s the questioning of if there’s a ghost around the corner or if that’s a really good werewolf costume or some werewolf decided to go to the store to pick up milk?”
“There are some ghosts following us,” commented Lewis.
Arthur tensed up. “Why?”
Lewis glanced towards the ghosts. “Are you sure he’s not a zombie? He looks pretty dead.”
“It’s Halloween. It’s obviously a very good costume.”
“He smells like a zombie though.”
“We’re ghosts! We can’t smell!”
“Oh yeah.”
“Besides, wasn’t there a Scooby-Doo movie with zombies?”
“Since when are there Scooby-Doo movies?”
“Mr. Scoville’s costume is really convincing,” said Lewis.
“Unngh!”
“Are zombies real?” asked Sydney.
“Yes,” said Hiro. “Under very specific circumstances. It takes one of a few specific rituals. It’s very dangerous and is not something that should ever be done unless you have prior permission from the subject of interest. Even then, it’s not recommended because of the possible side effects.” He paused. “Actually, this is a very complicated subject. Let’s talk about it when we have more time.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it at all,” muttered Arthur as they walked up to a house.
They took a moment to ring the doorbell, ask for treats, and thank the woman handing out the treats. Ben tried to beg for treats. This wasn’t allowed, and the group went on their way.
“Do ghost hunters have a lot of work on Halloween?” asked Sydney.
“Paranormal investigators,” corrected Hiro. “While we do look for ghosts, calling us ‘hunters’ suggests we intend to hurt ghosts in some way. That’s a last resort in cases where the ghosts in question seek to harm the living and cannot be convinced otherwise. And whether an investigator works on Halloween or not varies. Most will take the time off because they might get false positives. Some like working on Halloween though since they might get results they wouldn’t usually come by.”
“That doesn’t sound very professional,” muttered Arthur.
“I agree,” said Hiro. “Personally, I feel that circumstances that modify magical strengths can be dangerous, even if it’s something to your advantage.”
“Wouldn’t that make things easier?” asked Sydney.
“Yes, which might be good in an emergency, but it can make you under or overestimate a situation.”
“How is overestimating bad?” questioned Arthur.
Hiro took a minute to think about how to describe what he was thinking. “It’s like using a hand grenade to make a hole when a drill will suffice.”
Vivi, Lewis, both Sydneys, and even Arthur laughed. Hiro had to admit it wasn’t the best analogy, but it’s what he came up with on short notice.
“It’s like you thought the corn was sweet so you put in the wrong amount of salt,” said Lewis.
“That’s a better analogy,” admitted Hiro. “Anyway, once you outgrow trick-or-treating, you should find some way to spend Halloween that doesn’t involve the supernatural. Maybe go to a party or stay home and watch movies.”
“Watching movies would be nice,” said Arthur.
“Ooh! We could watch the Nightmare Before Christmas again!” said Vivi.
“You will not. It’s a school night,” said Hiro. “As it is the only reason you’re spending the night together is for safety’s sake.” He looked to Sydney Sr. “I’m trusting you and Mrs. Scoville to get the children to sleep and awake on time.”
“Nggggh!”
“That means yes,” said Sydney Jr.
“I still wish we could spend the night at Lewis’ house,” said Vivi. “There’s a lot more space, and it seems more fitting to spend Halloween in a haunted house.”
“Belle sometimes cries at night. She might wake you up,” said Lewis.
“Or we might wake her up,” countered Arthur.
“I don’t wanna wake Baby Belle up!” agreed Sydney Jr. “She’s cute when she’s sleeping.”
The subject of conversation rapidly changed to siblings and sleepovers. Hiro watched them absentmindedly before feeling something brush against his side.
It was just Ben, who gave him a smile unseen by anyone else. Hiro found himself smiling back. It was nice…seeing the children all so happy like this.
It would be nice if it would last forever.
#Arthur Kingsman#Lewis Pepper#Vivi Yukino#Sydney Scoville Jr.#Sydney Scoville Sr.#Hiro Yukino#Mystery the not-Dog#Brief Noelle sighting#Halloween episode#The gang dresses up as the gang#And talk about ghosts and stuff#While getting free candy#Then they get to have a sleepover
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Increments of Longing (1/4)
Fandom: Warcraft III / World of Warcraft
Pairing: Sylvanas Windrunner / Jaina Proudmoore
Rating: T
Wordcount: 12,337
Summary: The Zandalari trolls have joined forces with the Amani trolls, and Prince Kael’thas seeks a new military alliance with the seafaring nation of Kul Tiras by arranging a marriage between the Ranger-General of Silvermoon and the sole Heir to the Kul Tiran Admiralty.
Author’s Note: shoutout to @raffinit for being a champ and reading over this for me
read it below or read it here on AO3
“So this is how the sea starts: increments of longing,
Mostly in half darkness
Then a white light as waves rush through.”
— Meena Alexander, from “Nocturne”
Jaina had read once that teleportation could provoke a feeling of nausea not unlike seasickness. At the time, she had counted it as something that only ever happened to other people. She was the last daughter of a long line of sailors, and magic came to her as reliably as the tides came in to Kul Tiras. She had never known her stomach to roll on the deck of a ship or when stepping through a portal, and had expected that she never would. Until today.
Today, Jaina stepped through a portal from the deck of her mother’s flagship to the spires of elven Quel’Thalas, her insides churning all the way. The uniform of the admiralty was heavier than she was accustomed to, her usual robes left behind in Dalaran in favour of something more befitting the situation. It cinched too tight around her waist and forced her shoulders back, the greatcoat pinned and buttoned in more ways than she could count, and she cursed every bit of thread holding the outfit together in the near-tropical heat of the elven city.
She could taste the magic in the air here, magic that she was most familiar with in the way it radiated off the Kirin Tor high elves she studied under, like the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day. In Dalaran it was like resting by a brazier; here it was like standing next to a bonfire, and the magic only added to the cloying heat her uniform and nausea travelling provoked.
It was just nausea, she was certain.
She glanced back, but Katherine Proudmoore was already delivering orders to her admiralty staff and the captain of the fleet. Jaina opened her mouth to say something, but the portal was obscured by Proudmoore guardsmen. They stepped through beside her, and the portal winked shut behind them, leaving her alone. These were her mother’s men, not her own. They were not the people she could confide in, and this was not a place to confide in them.
Elven guards were upon them immediately, royal Spellbreakers with formal uniforms and flared shields, ready to escort them, to escort her to Prince Kael’thas without delay.
“Lady Proudmoore, thank you for coming so directly,” the leading guard said in a lilting accent, bowing deeply.
Jaina had to fight the urge to wring her hands. Instead, she returned the bow and greeted the guard in practiced Thalassian. “Anar-alah belore. The pleasure is mine.”
He straightened, and replied in Common. “Prince Kael’thas sends his most sincere apologies he could not be here to greet you himself. Unfortunately, his duties have detained him elsewhere for a time. I am to escort you to a courtyard to wait for the prince and your betrothed, the Ranger-General. If you would follow me, my Lady.”
Was her broken Thalassian so bad he felt the need to speak in Common? Or was he just being polite? Jaina never could tell. The high elves in Dalaran had never looked at her twice -- until recently, for reasons she paled to think of -- and when they did, it was always with a distinct air of disdain. As though she had muddied the hems of their elegant silk robes just by walking near them.
Or perhaps that was simply what all elves were like. This guard, while polite to the letter, certainly gave a haughty impression without even trying. His casual mention of why she was here at all made her stomach swoop down past her knees.
An engagement between the sole heir of Kul Tiras and the leader of the high elven armies. A military alliance in all its finery. Today was the day Jaina would be meeting the Ranger-General, and she felt sick just at the thought. She swallowed past the panic that bubbled up her throat.
The elven guard turned to stride away, and Jaina followed. Her own Kul Tiran guards trailed behind her, two-abreast. Far from appearing official, Jaina felt they looked drab in contrast to the sparkling minarets, lush scarlet banners, and golden-branched trees -- herself included.
Especially herself. She smoothed her hands down the front of her ceremonial greatcoat, feeling sillier than ever. She would melt before the day was over.
Quickening her step, Jaina caught up to the elven guard who had addressed her before. “Your city is very beautiful,” she said in Thalassian, determined to not let her few practiced phrases go to waste.
One of his long ears twitched. Surprise? Aversion? Maybe her accent was particularly grating. Regardless, he replied once again in Common. “Thank you, Lady Proudmoore.”
Jaina may not have been particularly adept at social situations, but she knew a rebuff when she saw one. Flushing, she fell back a step and let herself be led in silence.
They passed by an opulent water fountain in the centre of a square. Jaina paused to admire it before hurrying along with the elven guards, who had stopped the moment they noticed she had done so. She did not stop again, much as she wished to take a diversion down a street that led to a glimpse of a marketplace bustling with life. She craned her neck as they passed, but kept her feet moving. With a grimace she shrugged against another uncomfortable prickle of heat, feeling a drop of sweat sliding down her spine.
The guards led her beneath an intricately carved archway and through a series of open colonnades. At last, they came upon a private courtyard, empty save for a few guardsmen flanking the entryway.
The lead elven guard bowed to her again. “If you require anything, do not hesitate to let one of us know.”
He turned to leave, but stopped when Jaina said, “Um?”
“Yes?” he asked.
She hesitated, before asking, “I’m sorry to impose, but could I please have some water brought out? It’s awfully warm.”
“Of course.”
He murmured something in his native tongue to one of the other guardsmen, and the group of them left without another word, so that Jaina was alone with her own Kul Tiran guards, who had already begun to fan out along the perimeter of the surrounding colonnade. At a loss for what to do, Jaina lingered at the edge of the courtyard. If she could even call it that. It seemed more accurate to call it a private garden. A large tree shaded a stone bench with its golden leaves, and a small stream winded its way through the centre of the space, feeding a bank of artful wildflowers that bloomed with vibrant reds and oranges. She crossed over to the tree in the hopes that its shade would provide a cooler atmosphere than the sun-warmed stones of the colonnade pathway.
No sooner had she sat down on the bench, than two of the elven guards returned. Jaina immediately jumped to her feet once more, anxiously looking over their shoulders to see if anyone else was accompanying them. As it turned out, they were only delivering the water she had asked for.
She thanked them as they placed the fluted crystal pitcher and goblet set on the ground beside the bench, and received only a bow in return. They then returned to their posts, leaving her alone in the centre of the courtyard. Gratefully, Jaina sat and poured herself a glass, but wrinkled her nose when she took a sip.
Tides help her. Even the water in Quel’Thalas was served warm.
With a sigh, she took another begrudging sip before placing the goblet aside. She leaned her head back and looked up at the sky. A breeze sloughed through the canopy. A pair of birds winged overhead in a flit and dip of vivid yellow. The clouds were streaked with vibrant colours -- blues and warm peach tones that would eventually fade to a dusky purple come the evening.
Soon driven to boredom, Jaina was making a tendril of water from the nearby stream weave patterns in the air with one finger, when the elven guards suddenly snapped to attention. Their shields slammed smartly against the ground, and Jaina jerked in surprise. The water she had been manipulating with magic dropped to the earth and scattered along the wildflowers. Someone new entered the courtyard.
Again, Jaina shot to her feet. She kept her arms stiffly at her side to resist the temptation to fiddle with her own fingers. The newcomer -- an elven woman with silver-gold hair, wearing opulent armour -- stopped at the edge of the garden. She exchanged a few sharp words with the guards that Jaina could not hear from this distance. Whatever reply they gave seemed to satisfy her, for she tucked her hands behind her back in an officious pose and strode directly towards Jaina, her footsteps lithe as a cat’s.
Or, perhaps not a cat. Something more deadly than a mere housecat. A panther or sabre. The closer she drew, the more Jaina realised just how tall she was. High elves naturally stood a bit taller than average humans, but Jaina’s family was known for their height, and she was used to standing taller than most. As the woman stopped and stood before her however, Jaina could already tell she was no longer the tallest one here.
“Lady Proudmoore?” the woman asked.
Jaina nodded. “Yes?”
The woman’s eyes, glowing a soft blue like many of her kin, swept appraisingly over her. Jaina squirmed somewhat beneath that intense scrutiny, before realising what she was doing and lifting her chin to meet the woman’s gaze head on. At that, the woman cocked her head, and introduced herself, “Sylvanas Windrunner. You must forgive the tardiness. I’m afraid everyone in Silvermoon is bogged down with work these days.”
“I hear war will do that,” Jaina quipped, trying and failing to make light of the situation.
Still, it earned her a smile. A fleeting, tight-lipped smile, but a smile nonetheless. It was more than Jaina had managed in Quel’Thalas so far. Beneath her gilded pauldrons, Sylvanas’ shoulders were rigid, her posture impeccably militant.
Clearing her throat, Jaina pointed to Sylvanas’ armour. “So, you’re a Ranger, then? You must know the Ranger-General.”
For some reason, that simple observation caused Sylvanas’ eyebrows to rise, her long ears canting up in surprise. Jaina was still wondering what sort of offense she must have accidentally caused, when Sylvanas answered slowly, “I am. And I do.”
When Sylvanas offered no more information than that, Jaina said, “Well, I appreciate him sending you along to keep me company. Though I understand it must be an imposition on your time, what with -- you know -” she waved her hands towards the walls around them, “- the Trolls combining forces and threatening to take over both our lands, and all that.”
“It is no trouble,” Sylvanas replied coolly. After an awkward pause, she added, “This is, after all, meant to be a union to solve that particular problem. Or so I’m told.”
The dryness of her tone made the corner of Jaina’s mouth curl up in spite of herself. “Yes, I remember getting that talk as well. What was it my mother said? ‘A military trade by less than military means’?”
Sylvanas hummed a quiet laugh, and fine lines appeared at the corners of her eyes when she smiled. She did not look old, but Jaina never could tell with elves. As far as she knew, Sylvanas could have been a thousand years old, and she would be none the wiser.
“Your mother is an excellent leader,” Sylvanas said, and for the first time she seemed to relax, more in her element as the conversation continued. “I have admired her strategies for some time. I hope our people can learn much from one another.”
“That’s very liberal of you,” Jaina replied before her head could catch up with her mouth. Her eyes widened when she heard what she had said. “I mean -! I just -!”
“- Know that my people are notoriously xenophobic?” Sylvanas finished for her, amused at Jaina’s stammering. “Yes, I am well aware.”
“Well, I -” Jaina couldn’t help but wring her hands now. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“And what would you say?”
Jaina fumbled for the right turn of phrase. “‘Parsimonious with your cultural heritage?’”
At that, Sylvanas laughed and the sound was infectious enough that Jaina could not help but smile in turn. Mostly, she was relieved that Sylvanas found it funny rather insulting, and that she had avoided some sort of potentially disastrous diplomatic incident.
Sylvanas’ gaze gleamed when she stopped laughing. “You have a way with words, Lady Proudmoore.”
A flush that had very little to do with the heat crept across Jaina’s face. “I can’t say that’s the impression most people have of me, but I’ll take it.”
“Yes, I’d heard something about you being the bookish sort.”
“News travels fast even in Quel’Thalas, it seems.”
“Don’t you know?” Sylvanas tsked when Jaina gave her a quizzical look. “I was sure you would have read about it in those dusty old history books. Elves invented gossip, you know.”
“Bullshit,” Jaina said before she could censor herself. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but Sylvanas was grinning at her again.
Now, Sylvanas appeared positively impish, and she teased, “A wordsmith in more ways than one, I see.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” Jaina warned. “I'm supposed to be on my best behaviour.”
Sylvanas mimed locking her lips with an invisible key. “I wouldn’t dare.”
If any of the guardsmen -- elven or human -- were eavesdropping on their conversation, they didn’t show it. Jaina tried to look past the elven guards to see if anyone was coming. The elven guards exchanged glances, a flicker of their eyes beneath their winged helms. Sylvanas followed Jaina’s gaze, turning towards the elven guards as well. Whatever they saw on her face had them standing up straighter, as if they’d stepped on a lightning ward.
Sylvanas turned back to her and said, “The Prince shouldn’t be much longer.”
“The Ranger-General -” Jaina began. She cleared her throat and tugged at the high collar of her cravat. “- what’s he like?”
A long silence followed her question. Sylvanas was watching her very carefully. “Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Would you give me anything else?”
Sylvanas gave a huff of laughter. “In that case,” she paused before continuing, “The Ranger-General has a bit of a temper, is incredibly vain and meddlesome, and -- quite frankly -- needs a long holiday.”
Blinking in shock, Jaina replied, “That’s - Well, that’s quite honest of you.”
That officious tone came back when Sylvanas answered, “Candour is strongly encouraged among the ranks of the Rangers. It fosters camaraderie.”
“Yes, but -” Jaina shook her head. “He can’t really be that bad.”
Sylvanas shrugged, the plates of her pauldrons sliding together with the motion. “I suppose it depends on who you ask.”
“Well, shit,” Jaina sighed. This time she didn’t even bother trying to stop herself from swearing. She merely tugged at her cravat again, reaching up to wipe at a bead of sweat that darkened the hair at her temples.
Tilting her head to one side, Sylvanas said, “If you’re too warm, you should just take that coat off.”
“I would, but I need to -” Jaina motioned towards herself and her attire. “- look the part. Something about all ceremony and etiquette before the prince.”
“The prince won’t care,” Sylvanas said. Then added, “Well, he will -- I’ve never met a man more concerned about appearances in my life -- but that doesn’t mean you should die of heat stroke before he arrives.”
Jaina rolled her eyes. “Well, thanks. Now I feel a lot better.”
“No, but you will once you take off that gaudy thing.”
Eyebrows rising, Jaina gave Sylvanas’ own attire a pointed look. “Where I’m from, we have a saying: that’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
Sylvanas flashed her a grin, and for the first time Jaina noticed that she had fangs that were surprisingly long and sharp. “But, Lady Proudmoore, how would you be able to recognise I was a high elf, if I didn’t look unbearably snobbish?”
The wayward stroke of humour was far more self-deprecating than Jaina had been expecting from a person who looked so serious. In spite of herself, Jaina let loose a snort of graceless laughter. Sylvanas continued to smile at her, warm if still a bit stiff. As if on her guard. As if someone important could walk into the courtyard at any moment.
“Thank you,” Jaina said.
Sylvanas frowned. “For what?”
“Making me laugh.” Jaina started tugging at the many buttons and buckles of her greatcoat, loosening it one latch at a time. “Tides, but I needed a good laugh.”
With an inscrutable expression, Sylvanas remained silent while Jaina shrugged off her greatcoat. Flinging it onto a nearby bench, Jaina tugged at her white shirt, pulling it away from where it stuck to her sweaty skin, and scrunching up her nose in distaste at the ruffles spilling from the cravat tightly bound at her neck.
“Ugh,” she muttered, sinking down onto the bench as well. “I miss my robes.”
Sylvanas did not join her on the bench, standing a decorous distance from her. “I’d heard you were training to become a member of the Kirin Tor?”
“I’m surprised a Ranger would know that.”
Sylvanas shrugged. “I like to be kept well-informed.”
Jaina sighed, fiddling with the end of a ruffle. "I honestly wish this whole marriage of convenience thing wasn't so...inconvenient."
Sylvanas raised a brow at that. "Oh?"
"I was looking forward to continuing my studies at Dalaran," Jaina admitted. "It took me so long to get Antonidas to even think about training me, and now it's -"
She cut herself off with a shrug.
Sylvanas looked at her for a moment, the tip of an ear flicking as she pointed out slowly, "There are many fine mages in Silvermoon. If they're not up to your high standards, I'm sure we can arrange for wards to portal you back to Dalaran whenever you require."
“Why would they go out of their way like that for me?”
Sylvanas gave her an odd look, bordering on incredulous. “Do you not realise the privileged position to which you are being elevated here in Quel’Thalas?”
“Trust me, I know privilege. This?” Jaina pointed to the lush courtyard sprawling around them. “Feels like a cage.”
At that, Sylvanas went rigid, her posture more martial than even when she first entered the courtyard. “If you don’t wish to go through with the engagement, you needn’t do so. Nobody will force you into this, least of all -”
Before she could finish, she cut herself off with a clench of teeth, her mouth twisting to one side.
“You’re very kind,” Jaina said. “But really, it’s fine.”
Sylvanas took a step forward. Her eyes, which had previously glowed a soft blue, were suddenly very intense. The change was startling enough that Jaina leaned back in her seat. “If you have reservations, you must confide them.”
“In who?” Jaina asked.
“Somebody.” Sylvanas insisted. “Anybody.”
“I -” Jaina started to speak, but paused. Pressure pushed down on her shoulder, on her sternum and throat, until she felt like she was going to cave in upon herself. She swallowed thickly, staring down at her hands. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is. I assure you: it is.”
When Jaina neither replied nor looked up, Sylvanas sighed. For a brief moment, Jaina thought Sylvanas was going to be angry with her, that she was going to storm off and do something brash. Instead, she shocked Jaina even more by walking over and gently moving the greatcoat in order to sit beside her on the stone bench. Sylvanas leaned her elbows on her knees, and when Jaina snuck a hesitant peek, it was to find her staring down at her clasped hands in much the same fashion.
Sylvanas’ voice was soft when she spoke, “If you want, I can make this whole situation go away. You need only say the word, and I promise I will do everything in my power to make it so.”
Jaina stared at her. Sylvanas looked up and met her eye, and Jaina had no doubt that she could make good on such a promise.
Finally, Jaina shook her head. “No.”
“You’re certain?” Sylvanas pressed.
“Yes.” Jaina took a deep breath. “It’s not my first choice -- by any stretch of the imagination -- but it is my choice.”
For a moment, Sylvanas said nothing in reply. Then, she surprised Jaina yet again with faint laughter. “And now it is my turn to thank you.”
Jaina blinked in confusion. “Why?”
“For setting my mind at ease,” she said, and this time her smile was gentle enough to make Jaina’s breath catch.
Footsteps approached, rapid and quickly approaching. Jaina could hear the faint strains of male voices talking, and Sylvanas’ ears twitched. Abruptly, Sylvanas stood and motioned for Jaina to do the same. Jaina followed suit. She reached for her greatcoat, but stopped when Sylvanas shook her head.
Before Jaina could do anything more, Prince Kael’thas entered the courtyard, accompanied by the lead elven guard that had led Jaina from the portal. All of the guards -- human and elven alike -- stood at attention, but Kael’thas took no notice of them, as if they were mere fixtures along the walls.
He shooed the lead elven guard away with an irritable wave of his hand. “Yes, you were right, Ithedis. No need to be so smug about it.”
Far from appearing smug, Ithedis bowed low at the waist as Kael’thas continued to cross the garden courtyard alone. A friendly smile bloomed across Kael’thas’ face as he strode towards them, and Jaina felt more than saw Sylvanas stiffen beside her.
“Ah, Sylvanas! I was searching for you in the Walk of Elders, but here you are, keeping our esteemed guest company. Been getting to know one another?”
Sylvanas made a smart gesture, clasping her fist over her chest in what appeared to be a salute. “We have.”
“Excellent.” He turned his attention upon Jaina. When he opened his arms, Jaina was half afraid he was going to offer her a hug -- she hadn’t known high elves to be liberal with physical displays of affection -- but he only indicated their surroundings. “Lady Proudmoore, it is very good to see you again. You are most welcome in Silvermoon.”
Jaina bowed. “You are generous to receive me, Prince Kael’thas. It is my sincere hope this is the start of a long and robust alliance between our two nations.”
When she straightened, he was positively beaming with satisfaction. “Then our visions are aligned. Come!” He turned heel and started to walk back the way he came, not pausing to see if they followed. “Grab your coat and let us repair to someplace more suited to these kinds of formal discussions. Now that we’re all here, we can -”
“Uhm -?” Jaina interrupted. “Excuse me?”
Stopping in his tracks, Kael’thas blinked and turned, momentarily flummoxed at being interrupted. “Yes, Lady Proudmoore?”
Pointing between the three of them, Jaina said, “Aren’t we missing someone?”
Kael’thas glanced between Jaina and Sylvanas in puzzlement. Then, he smiled at Sylvanas as if she had intentionally left him out on some sort of inside joke. He turned back to Jaina apologetically, “I’m afraid I do not follow.”
“The Ranger-General?” Jaina prompted, a little testily.
Slowly, incredulously, Kael’thas aimed his full attention back upon Sylvanas. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?” Jaina looked at Sylvanas, but Sylvanas was studiously avoiding her eye. Something stirred at the back of Jaina’s mind, suspicion floundering at the edge of outright understanding.
Sylvanas’ voice was strained. “It never quite came up.”
Oh. Oh, no.
“Well, then. Allow me to be the one to properly introduce you two.” Kael’thas gestured first to Jaina then to Sylvanas, like an officiant presiding over a ceremony, his blood-red robes sweeping with every motion. “Lady Jaina Proudmoore, Heir to the Kul Tiran Admiralty, Scion of the Fleet. And Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Silvermoon, of Quel’Thalas, and of the Farstriders.”
Jaina’s stomach sank, like an anchor plummeting to a rocky seabed. The sun burned in the sky, but ice squeezed Jaina’s chest in a vice-like grip. Sylvanas stood tall, straight-backed, and stony-faced. She glanced sidelong in her direction, and this time when their eyes met, Jaina felt like she’d been plunged into an icy lake.
Sylvanas bowed to Jaina, her every movement rigid, and murmured, “A pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Lady Proudmoore.”
The negotiations took weeks and weeks. Partly because Kael’thas insisted that Jaina be seen around Silvermoon City for what he called ‘a sufficient duration of time’ in order for her and the citizens of Quel’Thalas to acclimate to the idea that she would be marrying their Ranger-General. Mostly though, it was because it took so long to get everyone in the same room together. Meetings were pushed back or cancelled. Katherine Proudmoore couldn’t make it one week due to Zandalari activity to the southern seas. Kael’thas couldn’t make it the next week due to a meeting with the Council of Elders. Even Sylvanas had to extend her apologies, when a skirmish with the Amani trolls called her away to the borders.
Meanwhile, Jaina remained in Silvermoon, restlessness and boredom building under her skin like the sweltering heat of Quel'Thalas.
Rather than staying cooped up in the quarters given to her in the Court of the Sun, she had taken to walking around the city, accompanied by her omnipresent mix of personal Kul Tiran guards and elven Spellbreakers. In the first week, this had sparked a flurry of Thalassian whispers and stares when she had walked through the marketplace. Ithedis, who had been permanently assigned to Jaina’s protection detail by Kael’thas, had informed her that most foreign dignitaries were strongly encouraged to remain in the boundaries of the Court of the Sun during their brief visits.
Jaina wasn’t sure about being a ‘dignitary.’ She certainly didn’t feel particularly dignified with so many people gawking at her. She also wasn’t sure that rule applied to her.
“Didn’t the prince say that the whole point of my stay here was for me to be seen?” Jaina pointed out to Ithedis, when she continued to roam the city in the second week.
“He did, Lady Proudmoore,” Ithedis conceded in his usual stiff monotone. His expression was difficult to read behind the ornate flanges of his helm.
She ignored the way people gave her a wide berth on the streets, preferring to instead admire the fluted architecture of Farstrider Square. “Then, are you -” she stopped to peer into an open-plan building. “- ‘strongly encouraging’ me to remain in my quarters? Does this shop sell anything?”
Ithedis blinked at her in confusion, glancing between her and the building. “Weapons, Lady Proudmoore. And I would not presume to tell you anything that was against your best interests.”
Patting him on the shoulder, Jaina said, “And I thank you for that, Ithedis. Would you like to accompany me into the shop while the others remain outside?”
If anything, he seemed even more puzzled than before. His head flinched back, as if she had struck him.
Jaina quickly withdrew her hand, eyes wide. “Oh! I’m - I’m very sorry! If I overstepped -!”
“It is fine, my Lady,” he insisted, even as he glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone had noticed. “I would be happy to accompany you inside, if you so wish.”
Right. No touching. Was it an elf thing, Jaina wondered, or a station thing? She didn’t have the courage to ask him. Or, more appropriately, she didn’t want to put him on the spot even more than she already had done.
Jaina told her Kul Tiran guards to remain outside the shop, while Ithedis murmured the same in Thalassian to his own men. As the two of them stepping through the arched entryway, Ithedis removed his helm and tucked it under one arm. He was of a height with her, which seemed off-putting to him, for one of his ears gave a near imperceptible flick when he glanced at the top of her head.
The owner was speaking to an elven customer, and their voices dropped the moment Jaina walked inside. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Jaina instead tried offering what she hoped was a welcoming smile, which they did not return. Ithedis remained completely silent and stony, dutifully trailing after Jaina while she ambled round the perimeter of the shop, admiring the wares on display.
Jaina circled a stand of armour. The red lacquered plates had been polished to a shine, so that she could see her own shadow drifting in reflection across the surface. Not looking at Ithedis, she asked, “How well do you know Sylvanas?”
As usual, Ithedis expression gave away nothing. “The Ranger-General is an excellent military leader, just like her mother before her. Cunning. Shrewd. A staunch defender of our people.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Jaina sighed.
He did not ask for clarification, and Jaina took that to mean he did not want to know what she had meant. Either that, or he knew what she meant and had no answer that could help her. Eventually he managed to say, “Lady Windrunner -” he smoothed his thumb across the edge of his helm. “- is an accomplished huntress.”
Well, that was something at least. Drawing in a deep breath, Jaina pointed to a lavishly chased war axe hung upon the wall, its heavy blade stylised in the shape of an eagle’s beak. “Do you think she’d like that?”
Ithedis stared at her as if Jaina had just asked him to jump into a fountain. “You wish to buy the Ranger-General a war glaive?” he asked slowly.
“I wish to buy my betrothed a gift,” she corrected. “Is that inappropriate? Where I’m from, that would be considered quite a common thing to do, so please tell me if I’ve blundered.”
He seemed to relax, if only a fraction. “Ah. I understand. That is acceptable.”
“But not the axe?”
He did not answer.
Sighing, Jaina moved on and pointed to a sword. “This?”
Again, Ithedis did not answer, but his jaw tightened slightly, as if he were clenching his teeth.
“I’m going to take that as another ‘no.’”
Jaina continued walking, taking note of the many exquisite pieces of craftsmanship. She passed by a tower shield not unlike Ithedis’ own -- somehow Sylvanas did not strike her as the type to use a shield. A spear caught her attention, but Jaina paused at the bow beside it.
“You mentioned she was a huntress?”
“Yes, my Lady.”
Reaching up to trace the bow’s curved limb with her fingers, Jaina turned away. A wall adjacent her was layered with shelves that bore all manner of smaller items. Knives and quivers. Arrows and tinderboxes. Leather travel pouches, belts, and spare links of chain mail for repairing armour in the field.
She approached, immediately turning over an assortment of different sized and shaped arrowheads, as well as a wickedly sharp skinning knife that gleamed with oil when she revealed a finger-breadth of damascus steel from its sheath. When her eye fell upon a narrow little box however, Jaina placed the knife aside in favour of the box. It had been expertly carved from pale ivory and inlaid with golden ceremonial Thalassian script all around the edge.
Jaina held it up to Ithedis. “What does this say?”
He leaned forward. “It is an idiom, my Lady. ‘Prey hung is prey skinned.’ It means -” Pausing for a moment to think, he explained, “It means that there are often alternative solutions to a single problem.”
Humming a contemplative note under her breath, Jaina carefully opened the box. It was lined in red velvet, and nestled within was a dark slab of rock. A whetstone.
Jaina closed the box once more, and waggled it at Ithedis. “Yes?” she asked.
Again, Ithedis did not answer, but this time he gave a tiny nod that Jaina would have missed had she not been looking for it.
She bought the box, enjoying the shop owner’s open surprise that she was purchasing anything at all, and that she had picked what seemed to be the most practical and least gaudy item in the room. It was small enough to fit into her pocket when she walked back out onto the street with Ithedis shadowing her every footstep.
He placed his helm back over his head and remained as formal as ever, but for the remainder of the day he would answer her in Thalassian when she boldly tried to practice a few phrases on him. And as the sun began to slip towards the horizon, and they strolled back in the direction of the Court of the Sun, the little box was a welcome weight in Jaina’s pocket.
By the fifth week of her stay, people no longer stared and muttered as she passed, and Jaina had long since taken to wearing more simple Kul Tiran clothing. By the sixth week of her stay, Jaina had explored every street of Silvermoon City. At least, all the ones Ithedis would allow her to walk down. Some, he advised, were ‘ill-suited to the Lady’s disposition’ which Jaina took to mean ‘unsafe.’ By the seventh week, Jaina was just about ready to drag her mother, Kael’thas, and Sylvanas into the same room by the scruff of their necks. Luckily -- for all of their sakes -- they managed to finally arrange a day to settle the negotiations.
Most of the paperwork, Jaina knew, had already been drawn up; she had paled at the sight of stacks and stacks of documents in an official looking room of Sunfury Spire. Her wrist was already aching at the thought of signing those pages.
At least then it would be done. Better to get this over with than have it hang over her like a sword dangling by a silk thread.
Another otherwise uneventful morning found Jaina finishing up a light breakfast, attended as she always was by Ithedis and her Kul Tiran guards. She was seated upon a secluded bench in the corner of the bazaar and people-watching, when Kael’thas found her. She looked up in bemusement when she heard a murmur extend through the marketplace, half convinced that it was due to something she had unwittingly done. Seeing royal guards, she wrapped her half eaten meal in the cloth she had bought it in, and set it aside. She was standing and brushing crumbs from her breeches just as Kael’thas approached.
“You’re a difficult woman to find, Lady Proudmoore,” Kael’thas greeted her with a smile. He nodded to both sets of guards, who all walked a ways off to give the two of them space to speak in private. All except Ithedis, who continued to stand at Jaina’s elbow.
“My apologies,” Jaina said. “I thought I had until the afternoon before the meeting began?”
“Oh, you do. You do. I simply wanted to have a quick chat before the final negotiations. Check in on you, so to speak.”
“Thank you,” she said slowly. “I’m doing very well.”
Kael’thas smiled. “I have no doubt,” he replied. Without turning, he waved a dismissive hand at Ithedis and said, “A moment, please.”
Ithedis did not move.
For a moment, Kael’thas stared at Ithedis in confusion, then growing anger, his brow darkening as Ithedis remained staunchly by Jaina’s side. Kael’thas’ mouth opened, but before he could speak, Jaina murmured to Ithedis, “Thank you.”
Immediately, Ithedis bowed and strode exactly five paces away, watching. Kael’thas scowled after him, then glanced at Jaina thoughtfully as if adding numbers together.
Jaina cleared her throat. “You wanted to speak to me about something?”
“Yes,” Kael’thas muttered. In an instant, his veneer of false cheeriness returned, and his words were buoyant. “Yes, I did. You seem to be acclimating admirably. You’ve been the talk of the town ever since you arrived.”
“Oh - well, that’s -” she fidgeted with the ends of her sleeves before realising what she was doing and putting her hands firmly at her sides. “Good?”
His voice lowered and he assured her. “It’s excellent. I only bring it up because I also hear you and the Ranger-General have not taken the time to -- how shall I put it? -- grow better acquainted.”
Jaina opened her mouth, but no sound came out. It was true; she and Sylvanas had barely exchanged more than a few passing pleasantries since their first encounter in the garden courtyard. The one evening Sylvanas had found the time to join Jaina for dinner in a public venue, a breathless Ranger had raced up to their table and whispered something in Sylvanas’ ear that had her standing and apologising for the need to cut their meal so short.
Jaina had stayed to finish eating alone, and discovered upon leaving that Sylvanas had already taken care of any payment.
Kael’thas was still talking. “I understand -- believe me, I understand -- that our beloved Lady Windrunner can be a polarising personality. If she is not to your liking, then it is best we have that discussion before any official proceedings.”
“I don’t - I mean - she’s not -” Jaina floundered for exactly what to say, but Kael’thas continued as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
“If I’m to be perfectly honest, the Ranger-General was not my first choice for this union. Your mother was adamant however, that the alliance be military in nature. Both literally and symbolically. What with the Ranger-General answering solely to the Council of Elders, that military angle was of utmost importance. And while there are many fine Captains who could have taken my place -”
“Your place -?” Jaina’s eyes widened when she realised exactly what he was implying.
“- It did not seem befitting a lady of your station to marry at a level so beneath you. That and the fact the Ranger-General is known to be a -”
“Prince Kael’thas,” she interrupted, voice firm enough that she could get a word in edgewise. “While I appreciate your concern, I think any drastic changes this late in the negotiations would be unwise.”
At that, he appeared confused. As if she had snubbed an offering that he had spent a long time choosing just for her. His answering smile felt more forced than usual. “Quite right, Lady Proudmoore. Quite right.” Kael’thas offered her his arm. “Shall we head for the Spire? I know it’s early yet, but best to get everyone together before another disaster strikes.”
She hesitated for but a moment before placing her hand on his arm and allowing herself to be led from the bazaar. Ithedis fell in close behind them, followed by their combined unit of guards, until Jaina felt like she was leading a small cohort of armed soldiers that clanked with every step. Kael’thas talked the entire way to Sunfury Spire. All Jaina had to do was make noises of interest, and he seemed more than satisfied with the conversation.
Jaina used crossing the threshold of the Spire as an excuse to remove her hand. Kael’thas made no comment, though he did pause before continuing to lead her to the meeting room. More guards flanked the doors. They snapped to attention upon their monarch’s approach. As she passed by, Jaina gave them a weak smile that neither returned.
Someone cleared their throat behind her, and she turned in the entryway. Ithedis stood just outside, giving Jaina a meaningful look, as if waiting to be either invited inside or dismissed.
“Oh! Uhm -” Jaina winced sympathetically, “It’s probably best you wait outside for this.”
Without a word or the faintest flicker in his expression, Ithedis bowed and joined the rest of the guards outside the room.
When Jaina turned back around, it was to find that Kael’thas had been accosted by a steward. They spoke in rapid Thalassian. She had trouble following, only picking out words here and there among the fluid syllables.
Then, Kael’thas offered Jaina a respectful nod. “Excuse me. I must attend to something momentarily.”
“Another disaster?” Jaina quipped.
He grimaced. “Of the paperwork variety.”
“My condolences, Your Majesty.”
He chuckled, waggling a finger at her as though she were a small child caught with her hand in the biscuit tin. “You’re funny! They didn’t tell me you were funny!”
And with that he swept past her, followed by the steward. Jaina watched him go in slight bewilderment. Shaking her head, she stepped further into the room. A large oval table was perched in the very centre, spread with a ruby-coloured cloth and stacked with papers. Her mother stood near the head of the table, deep in conversation with her second-in-command. Based on the furrow in Katherine's brow, Jaina could tell the conversation was not going well. Best to steer clear.
On the far side of the room, open windows streamed with late morning light. Sylvanas was silhouetted against the glass, and beside her stood another elven woman Jaina had never seen before. They spoke quietly yet sharply, and they fell silent when they noticed Jaina rounding the table to join them. As they turned towards her, Jaina was struck by the resemblance of the two women, although the other elven woman was shorter by far and with hair so pale it appeared a shade shy of silver.
“Lady Proudmoore,” Sylvanas greeted with a respectful nod. She gestured towards the other woman and said, “Allow me to introduce my little sister, Vereesa.”
Without thinking, Jaina stuck out her hand. “It's lovely to meet you.”
Rather than bow, Vereesa grasped her hand without hesitation. “Likewise. I'm only sorry I couldn't do so earlier. Sylvanas has kept me busy in the field. I barely managed to escape the front lines. She'd have me working through her own wedding, if she could.”
Sylvanas’ gaze flicked up towards the ceiling, as if praying for patience. “Who else am I supposed to trust the Rangers with in my absence?”
“Heaven forbid you actually delegate for once in your life,” Vereesa shot back.
“Oh, I see. You'd prefer me to promote Falean?” Sylvanas countered in a tone that was far too sweet.
Vereesa aimed an ugly look at her sister. “Only if you want all your hair to be mysteriously shorn off in the night.”
Sylvanas tsked, and sounded bored when she said, “How rude, sister.”
“Well, I'm glad you did manage to get away,” Jaina said, clasping her hands before her.
“That makes one of us,” Sylvanas drawled.
Elbowing her sister in the flank for that comment, Vereesa smiled at Jaina. “Thank you.”
Sylvanas rubbed at her ribs, but a faint smile played across her face. “I must apologise again for having to abandon our dinner,” she said to Jaina. “I’ll have to make it up to you.”
“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for you to think of something,” Jaina replied, then brightened. “Oh! That reminds me!”
As Jaina began digging around in her pockets, Sylvanas and Vereesa exchanged puzzled glances. Vereesa shrugged.
Pulling the ivory box free, Jaina held it out to Sylvanas. “I bought this for you. I know we’re not official or anything, but I figure we’re signing everything today, so -- here.”
Both Sylvanas and Vereesa had gone stock-still. Vereesa was watching her sister’s reaction, and Sylvanas was staring at the box as if Jaina had offered her a live serpent. Slowly, she reached out and took the box from Jaina, moving carefully so that their fingers did not touch. She did not open it.
“I -” Jaina hesitated, confidence wavering. “I thought this was alright? I mean -- I asked Ithedis, and he said it was alright for me to give you something?”
Sylvanas’ brow furrowed. “Ithedis? You mean that stuffy old Spellbreaker?”
Jaina bristled. “Hey! He’s nice to me!”
At that, Sylvanas’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “And he told you that you should give me a gift?”
“Well, no,” Jaina admitted. “I said I wanted to buy you a gift, and he sort of steered me towards something appropriate.”
Pointing at the box now in Sylvanas’ hand, Vereesa asked, “As opposed to -?” she trailed off, waiting for Jaina to tell them.
“A war glaive,” Jaina mumbled.
Sylvanas made a faint choking noise that she covered with a poorly disguised cough. Vereesa looked like she was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud.
In the meantime, Jaina could feel heat creeping up her cheeks. She clenched her hands at her side, and her words held more of a snap than she would have liked. “Alright, what? What is it? Is a gift considered bad luck or something?”
Clearing her throat, Sylvanas smoothed her features as best she could, though her eyes still gleamed with amusement. “Forgive me. In my culture people do exchange gifts when they are to be married. However, the gift is supposed to be a sort of representation of the marriage itself. As a general rule, you would avoid any sharp objects. They represent severed ties.”
Slowly, realisation dawned on Jaina. “So, giving a big axe would be like -”
“- announcing to the world that you think the marriage will end in bloodshed,” Vereesa finished for her, unable to keep the grin from her face.
Jaina spluttered wordlessly. When she found her voice, she asked, “What - uhm - what would be a good gift, then?”
Idly tapping the fingertips of one hand against the box, Sylvanas answered, “That depends. Clothing is traditional. A fine steed perhaps? Or -- if you’re feeling adventurous -- a dragonhawk. Though I wouldn’t advise that.”
“Worst wedding reception I’ve ever attended. Dragonhawk got loose,” Veressa added aside.
“Then you’ll be pleased to know this is not a dragonhawk,” Jaina said.
“And thank the stars for that,” Sylvanas chuckled. She looked down at the box. She stroked the ivory grain and traced the elaborate script that scrolled along its edge. With utmost care, Sylvanas opened the box. Some unreadable expression flickered across her face.
“This is -” she started to say, but stopped.
“Perfect,” Vereesa finished, shooting Jaina a covert wink.
Jaina breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the Tides.”
Sylvanas admired the whetstone for a moment, before placing the lid back on and tucking the box into one of the leather pouches that lined one side of her belt. “Thank you. I shall treasure it.”
Something fluttered in Jaina’s chest at the small, warm smile Sylvanas gave her. Before she could say anything foolish, she was saved by the return of Kael’thas and the steward.
“If we could all be seated?” Kael’thas sighed even as he sank down into his seat at one of the heads of the table. The steward followed after him, arms laden with documents and scrolls which he placed on the table before his liege lord. Kael’thas watched with an air of distaste before waving the steward away with an irritable glower.
Sylvanas and Vereesa sat on Kael’thas’ side of the table, though nearer the middle, leaving Jaina to hesitantly make her way over towards her mother. Katherine had dismissed her second-in-command, and was pulling back a chair to sit. “Problem?” she asked.
“Nothing that we can’t handle,” Kael’thas assured her. “A numbering issue on a few minor clauses referenced later in the agreement. Now that it’s fixed, we can -”
When Jaina tugged at the high-backed chair directly opposite Sylvanas, the legs squealed against the marble floor, loud enough that it cut off what the prince had been saying. With a wince and a muttered apology, Jaina sat down.
Clearing his throat, Kael’thas continued, “As I was saying, now that the issue has been fixed, we can settle the last few details, and our happy couple -” he gestured to Sylvanas and Jaina “- can sign everything in front of witnesses.”
“Finally,” Vereesa muttered under her breath in Thalassian. Sylvanas shot her a warning look out of the corner of her eye, and Jaina had to bite her lower lip to keep from grinning.
“You have the pages with the new numbering?” Katherine asked, holding out her hand towards the steward, who stood at attention by the closed door.
Kael’thas nodded. Immediately, the steward moved forward to give Katherine a copy of the pages. She squinted down at the fine print, held it further from her, then gave up and pulled her half-moon spectacles from a pocket of her greatcoat. After settling them on the bridge of her nose, she began to read.
“Your scribes write too small,” Katherine remarked.
“To not waste good parchment,” Kael’thas pointed out. “They have to make duplicates in Thalassian as well, remember?”
Waving him away, Katherine placed her finger on one page. “Yes, yes. This bit here -- trade restrictions. I thought we’d agreed upon a more laissez-faire system.”
“Some consumer protections are a necessity, Lord Admiral. I’m sure you understand. We can’t have bad blood over something as banal as a bad shipment of fruit.”
With a begrudging grunt, Katherine conceded. “And the tariffs? I suppose they’re simply to protect elven agricultural production? I’d hate to think you were attempting to gouge your new allies, Your Majesty.”
“Perish the thought.” If Kael’thas was insulted by his guests’ bluntness, he did not show it. He maintained a presence of calmly smiling poise, while Katherine’s brow darkened.
Tossing down the page, Katherine flipped to another. She glared at him over the top of the parchment and growled, “No tariffs. The consumer protections can stay.”
That sparked a forty minute long debate between the two of them, in which Kael’thas wheedled and pretended to ring his hands, and Katherine grumbled and blustered. Meanwhile, Sylvanas and Vereesa bowed their heads together and spoke in soft tones, leaving Jaina to fiddle with the edge of the tablecloth. Sylvanas did speak, but rarely, and only when the conversation turned to military matters, weighing in on the like of border patrol and merchant protection.
Jaina was trying to catch the steward’s eye in order to ask for a glass of water, when her mother and the prince turned to a fresh page of the documents.
“There is one topic we have avoided during our initial consultations,” Kael’thas said, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “I mean, of course, the subject of heirs.”
“The Trolls are today’s problem,” Katherine sniffed with a dismissive little flutter of her gloved fingers. “Future heirs are tomorrow’s problem.”
“But we cannot leave the issue undocumented,” Kael’thas pressed.
Katherine’s sharp, pale gaze fixed upon Vereesa across the table. “I have been informed you have children, Lady Windrunner?”
Straightening, Vereesa nodded. “I do. Twin boys.”
“Good.” Katherine turned the page over in her hands and set it atop the growing stack to one side. “Then that side of the bloodline is settled, and Jaina can adopt any one of her host of cousins for an heir.”
Hearing that, Jaina scrunched up her nose.
“What is it?” Katherine sighed.
“Nothing,” Jaina mumbled.
“Don’t mumble, dear.”
Jaina ducked her head. “Sorry.”
“Well, spit it out,” her mother said, watching Jaina with dry amusement. “You have us all rapt.”
Lips pursing, Jaina admitted, “They don’t like me very much. My cousins, I mean.”
Katherine rolled her eyes. “It’s not about ‘like.’ They don’t have to ‘like’ you to be honoured for the opportunity to inherit your titles and carry on our family name.” Her voice gentled when Jaina grimaced at her bluntness. “What about your second cousin?”
“Which one?” Jaina couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her tone, and flushed when her mother shot her a warning look.
“You know which one. The one who was just recently appointed lieutenant aboard the ‘Restoration.’ What was his name?” Katherine frowned and tapped at at her lower lip. “Fitzsimmons?”
“Fitz hates sailing,” Jaina pointed out, and her mother appeared taken aback that any Kul Tiran could hate such a thing as sailing. “He only got the position because of his older brother, who served under dad.”
“Well,” Katherine conceded with a disdainful sniff for Fitz’s character. “Your father’s side of the family has no dearth of nieces and nephews. I’m sure you’ll find someone suitable when the time comes.”
And that seemed to settle that. Kael’thas and Katherine made notes in their separate copies and moved on, leaving Jaina flummoxed. When they moved on to discussions of Jaina’s movements to and from Quel’Thalas, Jaina tried speaking up. Every time she did so however, her mother or Kael’thas would talk over her as if she hadn’t started to form a sentence.
“She needs to be seen to tour around Quel’Thalas with her wife,” Kael’thas insisted.
“And they shouldn’t have to do the same in Kul Tiras?” Katherine countered.
“But what about -?” Jaina began.
“I’m not implying that they’ll never visit Kul Tiras,” Kael’thas continued. “Simply that the first year or two should be spent in Quel’Thalas.”
That earned a derisive sniff from Katherine. “She’s a mage. Frankly, I don’t see why she couldn’t teleport the two of them to and from each nation every month.”
Kael’thas bristled, “Because we need to show some stability. Appearances are everything.”
Rolling her eyes, Katherine leaned back in her seat. “Oh, here we go again.”
Before the two of them could launch into another fully fledged debate, Sylvanas raised her voice, smoothly cutting them off, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear the Lady Proudmoore’s opinion on the matter.”
Silence fell across the table, and every eye turned upon Jaina.
Her first instinct was to slip down further in her seat, but she forced herself to sit upright. Taking a deep breath, Jaina lifted her chin. “The first year or two in Quel’Thalas, but I want to spend at least one day a week continuing my education with the Kirin Tor.”
Both Katherine and Kael’thas mused over that idea. “Your magical education could be well supported here in Silvermoon,” Kael’thas pointed out.
“I’d prefer that to be supplementary to my studies under the Archmage,” Jaina refused to back down. “Studying under Antonidas is not an opportunity I want to pass up.”
“Nor should you have to,” Katherine added.
Fingers drumming against the tabletop, the noise muted by cloth, Kael’thas considered the proposal. Then, he nodded. “Agreed. Shall we put it with the appendices?”
“I think that would be easiest.”
Already they were moving on, and Jaina sighed in relief. She glanced across the table to find Sylvanas watching her, utterly impassive.
‘Thank you,’ Jaina mouthed silently.
In answer, Sylvanas inclined her head.
Through the windows, the sun was beginning its slow descent towards the horizon when Kael’thas and Katherine finally seemed satisfied. Katherine flipped to another page. She adjusted her spectacles with one hand while reading aloud, “We confirm that Lady Jaina Proudmoore, Heir to Kul Tiras, Scion of the Fleet, etc. etc. is of marriageable age. Yes.”
From the other side of the table, Vereesa asked, “Out of curiosity, how old are you exactly?”
“Nineteen,” Jaina answered.
Both Sylvanas and Vereesa went stiff, their ears tilting up in shock. Sylvanas’ eyes were wide, and she was staring at Jaina with a look of horror. A chill of unease walked down Jaina’s spine, settling in her gut and remaining there.
“Oh, good,” Vereesa hissed to her sister. “She’s nineteen.”
“I heard, thank you,” Sylvanas ground out between grit teeth. One of her hands was gripping the tablecloth tight, and she let go, refusing to meet Jaina’s eye across the table now.
“My kids are eight, Sylvanas. Eight.”
Sylvanas’ jaw clenched as she replied to Vereesa, “I am aware.”
Bristling at the way they were talking as if she weren’t right there and could hear them, Jaina asked, “Well, how old are you then?”
Sylvanas still would not look at her. “Older than nineteen.”
“It does seem rather young,” Kael’thas said to Katherine.
Her mother paid them no attention as she continued skimming the page. “It’s a perfectly legal marrying age for humans. This all seems to be in order.” She tossed the page atop the others and gestured to the steward, “We can begin the signing now.”
The steward brought forth two identical quills and inkwells. Jaina scraped back her chair, as did the others, and they rounded the table.
Sylvanas took the place directly to Jaina’s left, the two of them standing side by side before each inkwell. She stood in such a way that she would not accidentally brush against Jaina, even going so far as to pull aside her cloak. She did not look over at Jaina as the steward placed the first page before them. Instead, Sylvanas picked up her quill, tapped a swell of black ink from its nib against the well, and bent down to sign.
Her signature was a spidery scrawl against the pale parchment. When she had finished, Jaina reached over to take the page, but the steward coughed and made an abortive motion forward, as if he were about to swat her hand aside.
Jaina snatched her hand back. “Oh! Sorry!”
The steward pointed to the bottom right corner of the page. “If the Lady Windrunner could please initial here? And here, where amendments have been made.”
Sylvanas sighed, “I see we’re going to be here a while yet.”
Only then did the steward pass the page along to Jaina for her to do the same.
Then the next page.
And the next.
And the next.
With the first few pages, Jaina’s hand had trembled from nervousness. Halfway through however, her wrist and lower back had begun to ache. By the time they’d finished, both their signatures had grown sloppy, but still legible enough to satisfy the steward’s exacting eye. At every other page, Vereesa had to step between Sylvanas and Jaina to sign as the official witness, which only made everything take even longer.
The moment Jaina and Sylvanas finished, setting their quills back into their inkwells, the steward stepped between them and the documents, all but herding them aside so they could get out of the way and let him work. Jaina blinked, startled, and stepped back. Sylvanas was already turning to walk away, her stride stiff. Vereesa fell in beside her, and the two were speaking in rapid hushed Thalassian once more, heading towards the exit, while Jaina stared after them.
“My blessings to the happy couple,” Kael’thas smiled warmly at Jaina. He brushed a hand across his robes and said, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must attend another meeting. Until I see you all at the ceremony.”
He nodded to Jaina and Katherine before sweeping from the room.
Jaina started when her mother grasped her gently by the shoulder. “Well done, my dear. You were very poised during the negotiations. I’m afraid duty calls for me as well. The Fleet experienced another casualty yesterday, and a portal is waiting to ferry me back to the flagship.”
Jaina opened her mouth to protest that she hadn’t done anything during the negotiations, but fell silent when her mother pressed a kiss to her cheek and murmured, “Be well. And get some rest. You deserve it.”
And then she, too, was leaving, until Jaina was alone with only the steward for company. Her words caught in her throat as she blinked at the open door through which everyone else had disappeared. The steward began to unceremoniously shuffle all the pages together and prepare to take them away. He eyed Jaina askance, then offered a bow before leaving as well.
Jaina was still standing there, dazed, when Ithedis entered the room looking for her. Removing his helm, he crossed over to her just as she pulled out a chair and dropped into it feeling winded, as if she had just sprinted a nautical mile.
Ithedis hesitated. “Are you well, my Lady?”
“Yes,” Jaina breathed, rubbing tiredly at the lightheadedness building in her temples. “Just married, I guess.”
He stood beside her chair, gripping his shield. For a moment he said nothing, and then he murmured, “Congratulations, Lady Proudmoore.”
Jaina nodded faintly. “Yes. Thank you.”
The wedding ceremony itself was intentionally set in the Court of the Sun, with invitations dispersed to every inhabitant of the city. Jaina should not have felt so nervous about acting out a symbolic ritual of something that was already set in stone. They were fully legally married. She knew for a fact that the militaries of both nations had already begun to redeploy according to the union, and that the borders had been tentatively opened.
Moreover, when he wasn’t shadowing her every footstep, Ithedis had taken to overseeing the transference of Jaina’s personal items from her diplomatic quarters in Sunfury Spire to an estate southwest of Silvermoon City, which would be her new home. It was not, she had been told, the old Windrunner family estate, which lay further to the southern border of Quel’Thalas. Rather, Sylvanas had dusted off an estate purchased by her family generations ago and left uninhabited but for the rainy season, when they would venture further north to be nearer the city and -- more importantly -- the Sunwell.
Jaina had visited the estate just once after the papers were all signed, and even then it had only been for Sylvanas to walk her briefly around the spire manor and its grounds. They would not reside there together until after the ceremony.
Which, as it turned out, Jaina was dreading for reasons unknown.
The roiling of her stomach from when she first arrived in Quel’Thalas had returned in full force. It had happened very suddenly. One day she was exploring the library of Silvermoon, perfectly content to sit and read for hours while Ithedis stood at her side or carried books for her. The next day, she was getting fitted for a wedding dress and trying not to be ill.
Like a wave rushing back to shore it would periodically wash over her, the feeling. When Vereesa was mischievously sneaking Jaina down those side alleys Ithedis had refused to let her wander for an ill-advised midnight jaunt. When Jaina was at lunch with Sylvanas in a public garden, watching the languid gestures of Sylvanas’ fingers, the expressive movements of her long ears. When she lay awake at night atop the sheets, unable to sleep in the sweltering heat. Whenever she checked the time and realised the ceremony was quickly, steadily approaching.
And then without fail she was being bustled into a room by a group of elven attendants so they could prepare her for the day ahead. It took far too long. She had to fight the urge to fidget and bite her fingernails ragged. They squeezed her into a white dress fit for a traditional Kul Tiran wedding but for its more elegant elven cut and understated silver brocade. They applied kohl around Jaina’s eyes. They gossiped about the upcoming ceremony, who would be attending, where they would be sitting, how odd the clash of cultural touches appeared in the grand courtyard of their homeland.
Jaina was standing, her feet already beginning to ache, when the two hairdressers -- Jaina still did not know why she required two hairdressers -- got into a very polite argument in Thalassian about whether Jaina’s hair should be worn up or down. Jaina listened with half an ear. She could not understand every word, but the gist of the argument was apparent.
After the passive-aggressive bickering went on for a good five minutes, Jaina said in Thalassian, “Hair down?”
The hairdressers and all of the other attendants as well froze. They went stiff and still with shock at the idea that she had understood their conversation, and that they had not been curbing their tongues in her presence for the entirety of that morning.
“I agree,” said a voice from the doorway. “Down.”
All of the attendants straightened at the sight of Sylvanas standing at the entrance. Sylvanas crossed the room and stopped in front of Jaina, who felt her mouth drop before she could close it. She had only ever seen Sylvanas in various sets of armour, but today she moved just as gracefully in a dress. Whereas Jaina was clad all in white, Sylvanas was resplendent in red. Her arms and shoulders were bare, her skin golden against the crimson of her dress. The train of her sleek gown trailed in her wake like a streak of blood across the marble floor.
“May I speak with you in private?” Sylvanas asked.
Jaina tried to speak, but could only nod.
With a sidelong glance, Sylvanas sent the attendants scurrying from the room. The door shut behind them, and they were alone. Sylvanas stood as she always did, straight-backed, tall, hands clasped officiously behind her.
When Jaina finally found her voice, it was to blurt out, “It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.”
Sylvanas frowned. “That seems like a silly superstition. Do you want me to leave?”
Shaking her head, Jaina stammered, “No. It’s - It’s fine. You’re fine. In fact, you’re -” she bit back whatever foolish thing she had been about to say, cleared her throat, and asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Sylvanas tilted her head, and a lock of her pale gold hair curled against the dip of her collarbone. “Last we spoke, you seemed out of sorts.”
“I’m -” Jaina breathed in deeply. “I’m fine. Really. It’s nothing.”
Sylvanas was watching her very keenly. “In every legal sense, we are already married. If you do not want this -- being paraded around before a gawking crowd -- I will personally escort every last snooping busybody from the premises.”
With a huff of wry laughter, Jaina said, “Yes, because I imagine that will go down so well.”
A lofty shrug lifted one shoulder, and Sylvanas replied, “No, but when has that ever stopped me? At this point, it’s almost expected I’ll do something brash.”
“And here I thought I had dibs on ruining the ceremony.”
Jaina tried to sound lighthearted, but something must have shown on her face, because Sylvanas’ impeccable posture gentled somewhat. “You’re going to be fine. You look beautiful, Lady Proudmoore.”
A laugh verging on the hysterical bubbled up in Jaina’s throat. The idea that she could have looked anything but drab next to Sylvanas, who burned like a torch in the noonday sun, was enough to make her stomach lurch again. Placing a settling hand over her abdomen, Jaina said, “Please, just call me ‘Jaina.’ We might as well start with first names now.”
“As you like,” Sylvanas murmured. She moved her hands, and Jaina noticed that she had been holding something the whole time. “I have a gift for you as well, if you’ll have it.”
A necklace slithered between her hands, a small pale stone with a blue sheen like a shard of ice strung from a simple golden chain. As it turned in the light, dangling from where she held it forth, Sylvanas explained, “It is said to have once belonged to the great sorceress, Aegwynn. Whatever power it once held has long since dwindled, but it is a piece of history all the same.”
Sylvanas held up the pendant, strung between her fingers. “May I?”
Jaina blinked, as if broken from a trance. “Oh! Yes, of course.”
As Jaina turned around, she gathered her hair over one shoulder. Sylvanas stepped up behind her, reaching around to settle the stone at Jaina’s throat and fix the clasp. Jaina touched the stone where it rested atop her sternum, savouring the chill radiating from it. She could not mask a shiver when Sylvanas’ fingers brushed the nape of her neck, a fleeting graze of warm skin before the clasp was shut and Sylvanas stepped away once more.
Turning to face her, Jaina said, “Thank you. It’s -” She peered down at the pendant. “I’ve always admired Aegwynn. How on earth did you find a relic like this?”
“I have my ways,” Sylvanas drawled with a cryptic smile. She crossed the room, pausing with her hand on the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “Until later, Jaina.”
Now, the sickening feel returned tenfold. Her stomach boiled. Despite the pervasive heat of Quel’Thalas, Jaina desperately wanted to soothe her nerves with a cup of tea. When she had tried the tea of Silvermoon City a few weeks ago however, the bitter herbal concoction steeped in sunlight had put Jaina right off the idea of elven tea entirely.
Soon, two of the attendants were lifting the train of her dress so she could walk through the door. Soon, another was pressing a bouquet of blood red flowers bound with a white silk ribbon between her fingers. Soon, Jaina was being led towards the Court of the Sun as the sun itself glared directly overhead, painting the land in light.
She could hear the buzz of the crowd the moment she stepped outside. Jaina fidgeted with the ribbon tied around the bouquet, worrying the silk between her fingers. She wished she had a veil to cover her, something to hide her when she walked down the aisle, but veils were only worn to elven funerals and had therefore been deemed unsuitable for the occasion.
Her mother met Jaina at the entrance to the Court of the Sun, stately in her Admiral’s finery. She smiled at Jaina, taking one of her hands and leaning close to kiss her cheek.
“You look radiant, my dear,” Katherine whispered in her ear, before pulling back and offering Jaina her arm. Jaina took it, gripping her mother’s sleeve tight.
“Ready?” Katherine asked.
Jaina could only nod. And then they were striding in time towards Sunfury Spire. Their footsteps were muffled by a long length of rich red cloth stretching all the way to the opposite end of the Court, where a bower had been erected atop the steps leading to the Spire. The walkway had been festooned with alternating Kul Tiran and elven banners. Waves of guests rose to their feet as Jaina passed. Mages had woven an enchantment into the air so that small white blossoms drifted from the sky like snow.
Jaina hardly noticed any of it. She was focused instead on her breathing. How stifling it felt, the heat, the dress, the moment. She walked and did her best not to trip.
Sylvanas already stood beneath the bower, which had been strung with cloth and vines that grew all along its frame. She waited until Jaina and Katherine approached, then stretched out her hand. Katherine passed Jaina over to Sylvanas, who took Jaina’s hand. She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of it before drawing Jaina up the steps to stand beside her.
Jaina’s palms were sweaty and her fingers trembled. Sylvanas caught her eye and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then released her. And in that brief moment, the roiling of Jaina’s gut hitched, like a skipped heartbeat. It did not completely quiet her nerves, but for the remainder of the ceremony Jaina felt she could at last breathe.
Katherine moved to stand beside Kael’thas at the front of the ceremony, where he was acting as the officiant, the two leaders of their respective nations symbolically heading the union. A brazier burned before them. Jaina could feel the heat from tongues of flame that shimmered the air.
When Kael’thas began to speak, lifting his voice with a magnifying spell to address the crowd, Jaina hardly heard the words. For all that the time leading up to this moment had seemed to drag on for an eternity, now that it was actually here time seemed to spin out of control. It was all she could do to focus on saying the right words at the right time, and not on the way her hems brushed against Sylvanas’ gown in a silent whisper of silk.
Then Katherine was sprinkling three handfuls of dried grain into the brazier, and Jaina and Sylvanas held their hands over the flames while they burned. Kael’thas waited for the grain to reduce to ash, then with a flourish extinguished the brazier. Two attendants -- one elven, and one human -- moved forward from the wings. They gathered the ash in golden cups and carefully sprinkled the ash in a tight circle around where Sylvanas and Jaina stood together.
A breeze stirred the banners. The entire congregation seemed to hold its collective breath as the attendants joined the circle of ash on the ground, until Jaina and Sylvanas were enclosed in a dark ring that still drifted with tendrils of smoke.
Once more, Sylvanas took Jaina by the hand, turning to face one another. This time, it was Jaina who squeezed Sylvanas’ hand, and Sylvanas traced the ridge of Jaina’s knuckles with her thumb. Jaina’s breath caught in her chest when Sylvanas reached up with her free hand to tilt Jaina’s chin up. Sylvanas leaned down. Instead of kissing Jaina as she was supposed to, she hesitated, as if some small uncertainty were holding her back.
Something unfathomable flickered in Sylvanas’ eyes. They were close enough that Jaina could see the trace of an old scar that sliced across one cheek, so faint that she would have missed it had they been any further apart. Standing up on her toes, Jaina closed that distance and pressed their mouths together.
The kiss was brief and warm and soft. Long enough for Jaina to angle her head and grasp Sylvanas by her bare shoulder. Short enough that when they pulled apart, Jaina was left chasing after the feeling.
For a moment, Sylvanas remained motionless but for the steady rise and fall of her chest. She leaned back. She grasped Jaina’s hand more tightly. Then, Sylvanas pulled up the long hem of her dress just enough that she could kick open a break in the circle of ash that surrounded them on the ground. The ashes scattered in a dark narrow streak, and together they walked back down the aisle to the roar of thunderous applause.
#sylvaina#sylvanas windrunner#jaina proudmoore#warcraft#arranged marriage au#roman writes#phew this was a doozy to write
142 notes
·
View notes
Text
Toss to the left. That shoulder hurts. Turn to the right. Now breathing is hard. Roll over, back down. Lower back hurts to much. Shift to stomach. Oh no, now I feel like throwing up.
I propped myself up by the elbow and groaned. My head swam and my stomach churned like sea foam crashing into the beaches outside. Note to self, sweet’n’sour fusion does not sit well in the gut, and kissin’ your captains lingers on more than just your lips.
Rolling in the hips, I angled myself to look out the tiny, pathetic window at the top fourth of the barracks wall. The light was dull and grey, but still bright and fresh. Early morning? I guess I would find out. I pulled my pants back on, ignoring the shirt stays. I looked and felt weirdly professional wearing fancy clothes in the morning as a hungover sailor. This sorta thing just didn’t occur to me. It was horrible, so I rummaged through my locker for my coat. Then the outfit was complete. Thus, I sauntered out of the barracks and into the day with a gait somewhere between notorious swagger and drunken exhaustion.
I was right; it was morning, early morning. The hustle and bustle around the base was low like the tide, however. I pondered; had I slept so hard that the world had ended, and I didn’t even notice? Apparently not, because I saw Miss Hudadra at her usual point on her desk. “Good morning, miss ma’am,” I began. “Where is everyone?”
Dollface’s swift shuffling of papers slowed. She cocked her head to me, then started to write.
‘It’s a Sunday, Sergeant.’
“It’s Sunday? It’s not Saturday?”
Dollface huffed. She underlined ‘It’s a Sunday.’
My mind drew a blank. Dollface surely could see the gears turning in my head to make the required connection. “So I slept through the entirety of Saturday?”
‘Yes. You seemed like you needed the rest.’
“Oh, yeah right,” I acted as though I hadn’t moped and recovered from me and Captain’s little endeavor for a whole day. But ol’ Dollface didn’t need to know that. “So why are you here?” I asked through chuckles, trying to keep her from asking her silent, judging questions.
‘We have a routine safety check due tomorrow morning.’
I perked up. A mission! “Oh, Doll, I can do that for you.” She offered only a head tilt to the other side, and a tiny shift of her lashes in response. “Aww, see you’re just beaming in my nice guy light, look at that smile! I’ll be taking that safety report then, please.”
I’m sure under the mask she was not smiling. But I turned over my wrist, playfully dangling it. I saw the faint movement of her eyes under her lashes watching my hand wave back and forth. She made the one sign I truly knew how to translate, and she said ‘fuck you.’
“That’s a funny way to sign ‘thank you.’”
She wrote again, ‘Do you really want to take the report? You’ll have to inspect all the long-range vessels. Skip Captain Gantu’s fleet of mantas, though.’
I signed her ‘yes.’
Dollface sighed, again. She was shaking her head, vaguely annoyed but probably amused. The woman fingered through the tops of the files in her drawers, picking through them, and put together a folder. ‘Take special care around the Messiah, Admiral Sparrow is planning a return to the Blue Circle Project,’ she wrote.
.
I had swiped the folder from her, thanked her for the mission, and went on it. Albeit more of a distraction, in hindsight. But a mission, also! I’m not pathetic. I have a life outside work. It’s just…. A life I didn’t want to get to. The seas are simpler. Sure, you might risk dying, drowning, getting ripped apart or otherwise disembodied or gutted by things in the deep no man has ever seen before or will see again, but it was predictable. More predictable than The Deep Serpent. Which is pretty ironic.
Spending the next few hours with just myself and the fleets was pretty therapeutic. Writing down and describing all the faults, or lack thereof, on the branch’s ships was also fun. I could just look through the supplies and stuff of ships I wasn’t in charge of, or in the same battalion of. Also silently judging everything. Taking my time and being nit-picky for the sake of safety. To absolutely no surprise though, there often was nothing to put on the piece of paper for ‘needin’ fixin’s’, cause all the wear and tear happened on the galleons. The Manta ships. The worst of it on Sparrow’s fleet was a poor bastard who forgot to tie down his supply in the lower hold, and left his ropes to do so in a cobweb of knots and ties around the main mast.
Then there came the Messiah. I stabled my hand on the thick, fine wooden railing as I boarded her. “Good morning, miss ma’am,” I instinctively called out to her. She’s a fine ship, with an even finer set of missions under her mast. Not a scratch on the whole thing or a rope out of place. The newly adorned Admiral sure knew how to take care of the gem of the branch.
I shut the folder and tucked it under my arm, ready to report back. It was mid-evening now, and the melancholic hues of purple and pink mumbled through the clouds. There was a rumble across the horizon as I looked to it. Then I heard a ripple; an unusual splash. I jolted and immediately glanced down into the waters. Perhaps something lose had fallen off the Messiah after all, and only now decided to plunge?
But there was nothing sitting atop the water or sinking just beneath it. My mouth hung open for a moment. There was a creature moving beneath the surface. I stared at it. Trying to register the movement of the aimless limbs of an octopus drifting to and fro like seaweed. I brought my notebook back out;
‘Octopus nested on the Messiah. Large. Not aggressive.’
Then I shut the folder for good, and made for headquarters.
.
Upon my return into the deep, stone and marble hallways of the base, the faint noise of notes sang through the echoing halls. I took care not to bring my footfalls too quickly, and not to stumble in these aching joints. I went along, and passed Dollface’s desk. She didn’t sit in it, but the noise was more clear and satisfying. Someone somewhere was playing music. I turned the appropriate corners to the west side of the building. On the farthest wall, facing the sea, I stepped into the vague light of tall windows. I glanced about the lounge and in the center was a magnificent piano with Donna Hudadra at the keys.
She was still on duty; I could tell by her navy blue uniform. It was stiff in the shoulders and tight to her upper back. But she moved with the music, reaching each note on time. She played like she was the only thing in base. She played so well, I almost forgot the old tiredness in my joints, chest and heart. I did forget the hurt of the heart.
When her song came to a close, my steps echoed in the silent room in contrast to one filled to the brim with musical promise. “Good… Good evening, Miss Hudadra. That was beautiful.”
Dollface jolted as though I grabbed her by the shoulders and yelled ‘man overboard’ in her ear. She brought her hand to her lips in surprise, and started to sign. A bit too complex and quickly for me to catch. ‘Early… Report…. Night… Stop.’ Yeah context was not helping me.
“Yeah yeah, no, yeah. I caught none of that.”
Her arms froze. Then she repeated the movements more paced, ‘You’re early… Report, accurate? Reports...work, into night. Lots of ships.’
“I guess I’m just some kind of professional,” I commented with a smirk, and handed her the folder.
She grasped it and went through the papers. Throwing one leg over the stool, she straddled it. She stopped at one page. Then picking at it. Staring for a few more moments. She set the folder on the stool, then made a gesture that wiggled her fingers about repeatedly. Something that could only mean ‘octopus?’
Leaning back, the keys of the piano thundered as I hit them accidentally. “Probably hitched a ride somewhere between here and the Blue C.”
‘Type? Type, octopus?’
“Hell if I know. But it’s pretty fucking big.”
‘Type, octopus.’ She signed more sure and stern. She handed me back the folder. ‘Thank you.’
0 notes
Text
Hollywood Siren of the Day - Dorothy Dandridge and Her Fashion Style
With the arrival of summer and warm weather comes the arrival of outdoor party season. Whether it's a laidback barbeque with friends at the local park or perhaps a strong garden party, a lot of people should look the part. But outdoors you need to strike the best balance between a nice looking outfit and a practical outfit. You want to take into mind all of the potential hazards that include an outdoor setting from climate to unstable surfaces to a not enough proper lighting. So make wise decisions and don't just dress to impress.
According to a recently available survey by the Cotton Incorporated Lifestyle Monitor-Levis, Lee, Wrangler, and Gap include the four most favored brands for jeans. With younger consumers seeking cut, fabric quality, along with a twist for the classic theme, jeanswear is but one area where young designers have proved that they'll make their unique niche. Several designers initially focussed on jeans, before getting into the areas of apparel.
Growing up within the depression era, Dorothy and her family suffered great hardship being a lots of other Americans. Ruby moved the family to Hollywood and was able to locate a steady income, playing bit-part roles as servants in movies. 'The Wonder Children' were renamed 'The Dandridge Sisters' and they played in famous venues like 'The Cotton Club'. I watched the movie named next famed venue, and was instantly fascinated with the place. Filled with black musicians and dancers, the affluent and celebrities attended this decadent joint to try out some of the jazz magic.
The designer would always research on the designs with feedbacks using their clients. The customers' preferences and colour choice will be considered before designing. Once their approval is sought, he provides the garments a final touch. Trends and styles keep changing in correlation with people and their taste. The designer has to be aware of the international market for the reason that world is shrinking day by day. The awareness may help him keep abreast of the happenings around the globe. It is the designer that has to keep up with the client's expectations and are avalable track of the most desired clothes styled to impress the queen.
Whilst bright colours have quite definitely for ages been en vogue, in 2010 the trend is taken up new heights with colours really being ramped up and brightness going off of the scale. The key to carrying off this trend is block colour, with plain matching bikini bottoms and tops. Given that the swimwear is unquestionably an argument alone, this trend is most beneficial kept simple so the cut is clean and embellishments are minimal. Similarly, on the Summer 2012 catwalks, colour did the talking and accessories were kept down.
One other consider making an attempt to look good is your hair fashion. Natural Hair Extensions - What and how? Do not put on ankle boots with the fallacious pair of pants. Having completely different kinds and colors of Ugg boots makes it doable to match your temper and your clothes. Folks from all the world go in fashion reveals for having the data of dressing sense. Find a brand new means of having an intergalactic empire make selections. There may be one way that is destined to achieve success in attracting others attention. By no means enable bad habits get in the best way of creating your soccer video sport all it may be. Don't get me unsuitable, wearing older fashion jewelry shows model too, which is a complete totally different conversation. Get a excellent image, not just excellent, make it outstanding. This text will include both types, however will make it some extent to call out when one thing is more recent or dated so that you wont be out of the loop. It should not be the first thing you place on your face, since concealer is too heavy for an all-over coat that evens out your skin tone. In order for you to buy a new cologne or cologne, try out a pattern by means of the store very first.
Individuals need to look great, and studying glasses are a terrific accessory for that since others look you within the eyes first. A properly made wig - even the quality synthetic varieties - can look totally practical. You may look extremely stylish while carrying designer leather bags and you can create a fashion assertion. And with the coming of a new school 12 months come the fall tendencies in fashion. On the tail end of final yr and the start of this 12 months there where a wide variety of widespread kinds being sported by celebs that really stood out. For a few years within the 90s baggy denims had been considered to be the biggest style statement, nevertheless slowly they ran out on fans. Barthelemy Thimonnier invented a sewing machine in 1830 and within ten years owned an eighty machine garment manufacturing facility that produced uniforms for the French navy. As an alternative, a few years later, at present skinny denims are ruling the runway and streets alike.
It isn't that troublesome to study simply what these attributes are both! As the 19th 20th, and twenty first centuries have shown, fashion traits are becoming historical past on a regular basis, since traits are all the time evolving. Lots of revolutionary ideas about fashion could be discovered online. Nevertheless, there was a notable enchancment in fashion manufacturing during the interval of industrial revolution of the late 18th century. From a singular women’s size small to plus size clothing to the waist coaching corsets to the plus size corsets, there are options for everyone. Take the time to buy round before you buy so that you're certain you are getting the perfect deal on the most effective merchandise. So it is best to choose the ring that you really like and most accurately fits your personality. Deciding what to put on in household photos can be just as challenging as discovering the perfect photographer. My advice is to go for what you like, regardless of what the media tell you to put on. Thats why consumers hesitate to choose merchandise they want in entrance of assorted varieties.
Tons of individuals like to grasp around the mall and explore new products. Doing Well-known web options , you may have space for more incredible discovers, and another individual is profiting from your unneeded goods. Indian models, Indian artists and Indian models participate within the completely different occasions and performance happening abroad. In case you are FULL-BODIED AND SHAPELY, WOULD YOU CARE TO BE A PLUS Size Model? The good news is that these designer handbags are now not only for the wealthy and well-known. Males's ties are an ideal instance. And, to be honest, these adjustments are price adopting, particularly if you're a fashion-loving lady. It’s simple, quick, and our fruits and vegetables are all the time contemporary so that you just don’t must fret about unintentionally touching a moldy peach. The police and press at the time characterized all Mexican American youth as petty criminals, and White sailors and Marines, who have been offended by the very concept of zoot fits, have been only too blissful to have their stereotypes confirmed. The patterns must be traced and the seam allowances added in. It is solely not your factor.
In truth, this can be a trending style in the case of wedding ceremony garments. As any self-respecting fashionista is aware of, the change of season can mean only one factor: a great excuse to go buying! Getting help from an expert professional that has labored with commerce current booths in numerous venues will probably be invaluable by enhancing return on funding. And on this last one, simply remember we report on the developments. And so they no have to seek for different sources to find out about the information. Thanks Yusra, I am happy to know that it helped you. This has created a lot affect in pop circles. You may be stunned at how a lot cash you save. No matter what age group the girl belongs, she would always carry a bag along together Apparel Group with her. You will have to get pleasure from group activities and recognize you're solely part of a much bigger picture that draws from the enter of many players. Hancocks and JoAnnes. Particularly in the event you just need a strong to enhance something.
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
petstainsc-blog
Pet Stain Removal
willpietsch
Will Pietsch
scythesims
CC Finds
chao-thicc
uhhh call me Anna I guess
persona-and-perspective
One Lonely Owl