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magistralucis · 4 months

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"I'm right here." - Trazyn/Orikan (requested by @beril66)

(Drabble for a prompt fill challenge, prompts available here.)

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They debate the pros and cons for a while, but in the end Orikan gets his wish, as he must've always known he would. Trazyn feels some kind of way about it. It's odd - as he gathers the necessary tools and heads to Orikan's quarters, he feels not a single smidgen of hatred, only the weight of dread mixed with weary concern. This is not how he would've characterized his sentiments towards the Diviner before any of this happened. He feels out of himself, frustratingly passive, inadequate.

"Orikan."

But if the Overlord of Solemnace is not adequate for this task, no one else will be. He desires breath, deletes the notion from his engrams, and enters.

Orikan is lying silently on the ground. Sannet is watching over him. Outwardly the astromancer is closer to restored - his primary servomechanisms have regained their function and the necrodermis 93% regenerated, the scratches buffed out and his carapace polished a rich turquoise - but Trazyn doesn't need to scan him to know that little about Orikan's mental state has changed. He sends an interstitial greeting, receives but a tiny blip in return. Trazyn dismisses his Arch-Cryptek with a nod, then with some effort, kneels down beside Orikan.

"Don't suppose you want it done to the tiles." He says out loud, more to himself than the astromancer, then dares the slightest touch with a fingertip upon the other's blackened spine. Orikan tenses, a shiver passing through his circuits. "I'll be gilding below those (gesturing at the three orbucula along his spine), then your clavicle-collar, and your headpiece. Has Sannet updated you on my process?"

A small nod. Trazyn heaves a sigh-analogue. Three whole decans have passed since that fateful battle, and just as long their cohabitation in Solemnace - but Orikan is still so afraid, and refuses all attempts to clarify the problem. Hardly an encouraging atmosphere where hands-on work is necessary. Still, for Orikan, he will do his best.

"... Good. If you've no other qualms, dear colleague, I will begin."

-----

They don't talk. Not about each other, not even loosely to fill the time. Trazyn's working at the same speed as his living self once did, which is rather slow for necron engrams, and in the absence of Orikan's jabs and insults he finds himself dwelling on the strangeness of the other's request. No one among their kind has needed to hand-gild anything since biotransference. Few individuals remember the art at all, and besides, they have decorator-scarabs for the purpose. Trazyn certainly isn't painting on his own raiments whenever he's damaged or switches bodies, and he loved gilding with his hands, it was his finest skill among the scribal arts.

But even when Trazyn lived the practice was considered old-fashioned. It's not an art he imagined Orikan, with his dislike of the past, would be caught dead asking for. Their world has shifted about them and maybe it's everything Trazyn has ever wanted, except he knows they're not the things Orikan would've usually wanted, and the thought of the other's discomfort bothers him more than he'd admit.

(Then again they never thought all that seriously about being caught dead, full stop.)

The hand holding the brush trembles. He is thinking illogically again.

(Trazyn only foolishly thought they had.)

Enough of this. Trazyn forcibly focuses his oculars elsewhere and redirects extra core-flux to his fine-motor actuators. It's easier because he's not facing Orikan. The spaces between the orbs and his spine are narrow, and while Trazyn can zoom in visually for the little details, he has no choice but to physically lean in close to actually let his brush pass over those areas. He tries to be discreet about it, but ultimately he must hold Orikan against him as he works, or else lie beside him for a clearer view.

He's seldom been this up close and personal with Orikan without dying. Nor with anyone else, not in this context: the living Trazyn's handiwork belonged to books and scrolls foremost, stone second, with the occasional jewelry-burnishing for interest. And even if he were only working on those (and not Orikan's body), remembering how it was done before is not the same as putting the work to practice, especially since Trazyn's current technique is different to how it was done before. There's a brush and there is gold, and therein ends the similarity. Trazyn's pigments are no longer bound with gum, but with fluid living metal, which adheres directly upon Orikan's body once painted. There is no need for varnish, nor the bite of regal acid, nor heat produced from anywhere other than their cores. Trazyn's own nanoscarabs are following along, tidying up the edges and weaving the gold layers into necrodermis at a subatomic level. His artisan's pride suggests a filigree finish, though his rational side suspects Orikan won't care for it.

Nevertheless he ought to bring it up at some point. It's a pretty touch, a dignified thing. Trazyn finishes gilding the lowest orbuculum down Orikan's spine, sits up with the faintest creak of his knee-cabling, moves away.

The astromancer's hand darts out of nowhere to grab his wrist.

Trazyn bristles. Literally bristles, the epidermic layer of his necrodermis rippling visibly as his subconscious prepares for an attack. It dies down as soon as he regards Orikan, and the immensity of the panic radiating from him; no need to run a diagnostic scry, nor even ask what's wrong, since the Diviner is incandescent with alarm-patterns from every functional node. Without a word Orikan drags himself to kneeling, crawls forwards - then collapses right against Trazyn's ribcage, clinging on for dear life, or whatever passes for its illusion nowadays.

"Orikan!" Trazyn's voice crackles, then fuzzes out of his vocal emitters entirely. It comes back dampened, soft, despite his best efforts. "What are you... oh... oh, damn it all."

There's no answer. But the point is loud and clear: Orikan needs his company, he won't be left alone. This was never about mere gilding - something happened to Orikan during the brief moments of his godhood, and Trazyn's presence is the only thing that's been grounding him ever since, for he's the one other proof Orikan has that the interdimensional horrors could be overcome. "I was only going to move to the other side, you know I wasn't going away." Trazyn says quietly as he puts down the brush, sitting up as straight as his back will allow. He supports the other's frail body in his arms and drapes one half of his cloak over him. "I'm right here, Orikan. It's all right."

They're pressed turquoise against turquoise, core-flux burning hot. Trazyn would not have believed, once upon a time, that such a happenstance could've occurred in any other context than his unfailing triumph over Orikan: he'd have been all too happy to see the Diviner crushed, made centrepiece or vassal or a slave, the gold and turquoise proof of his ownership more than anything else. Those fantasies feel distant now, like they're a different lifetime and a dozen different Trazyns away. In the present day Trazyn the Infinite is merely staring down at their hands, two charred and two unblemished, his oculars dim and sad as he clasps their fingers in comfort.

Fleetingly the archaeovist recalls this was how the Nihilakh nobility welcomed additions to the dynasty. The newcomer, usually a child or a foreign spouse, would be granted a ceremonial robing of the dynastic colours followed by gifts of gold and turquoise goods. Seal-rings for a new groom, hairpins for a bride, amulets and jeweled rattles and gold-embroidered toys for the newborn babes. Trazyn has never had cause to perform this ceremony himself and remembers nothing else about it, and he certainly doesn't think Orikan had anything like this in mind - but as far as welcoming Orikan to his household goes, he supposes this is the most benign way they could've gone about it.

"My dear Orikan." He soothes, watching the glimmer of Orikan's discharge nodes slowing to a quiet blink, and rests a warm palm atop the other's cranium. "I will not leave you. Take as long as you like."

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(Notes: This is a piece exploring a headcanon that Orikan wears Nihilakh colours because Trazyn gifted it to him post-TIATD, presumably during a recuperating period on or near Solemnace. Orikan got battered to hell and back during that battle, it's doubtful Trazyn would've let him go in that state; since I also enjoyed writing about necrontyr!Trazyn's scribal duties in Unravel recently, I've brought back the chrysography/hand-gilding angle for this piece. 🥰 It struck me as a low-key but very intimate image.)

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #trazyn the infinite #orikan the diviner #the infinite and the divine #the infinite and the divine spoilers #necrons #necron #drabble #prompt fill #i've been dwelling on the requests i've received during this week and finally they're coming to fruition... slowly! 😂💖#@beril66: i have your other requests but since they arrived in one ask i'm posting each fill separately in their own post #next up is some necrontyr sauciness 😘

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fashioneditswebsite · 5 hours

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9 looks you might have missed from the Met Gala

Stars descended on New York for the annual Met Gala (Evan Agostini/AP) Gigi Hadid, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Lana Del Rey wore sculptural gowns for fashion's biggest night. The Met Gala is fashion's biggest night of the year, and this year's event was no different. Celebrities celebrated the opening of Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The exhibition features 250 rare pieces. The night's official dress code was Garden of Time, which celebrities interpreted in various ways… Here are some of the Met Gala looks you might have missed. 1. Gigi Hadid Gigi Hadid (Matt Crossick/PA) Model Gigi Hadid was among the many celebrities who wore Thom Browne, a New York-based designer, to this year's Met Gala. Her structural, corseted white gown featured black trim and 3D yellow rose detailing. Additionally, according to Vogue, the skirt required the effort of 40 people who spent 8,500 hours embroidering it. Furthermore, the dress's 2.8 million microbeads were applied by 20 artisans who devoted 5,000 hours to the task, as reported by the same source. “It’s always a privilege to watch Gigi come to life,” Browne told Vogue. “She is a true talent that shines at whatever she does. I wanted her look to embody the fragility and immense work that you see in Andrew ’s exhibit, blooming on the carpet and into The Metropolitan Museum of Art.” Sarah Jessica Parker (Matt Crossick/PA) And Just Like That… star Sarah Jessica Parker chose British designer Richard Quinn for her ethereal Met Gala look. A mainstay on the Met steps, Parker's embellished midi-dress had a sheer, birdcage-style silhouette with lace floral detailing throughout. Parker told Vogue she was inspired by Quinn's spring/summer 2024 collection and Sargent and Fashion at the Tate Britain in London, an exhibition dedicated to American artist John Singer Sargent's fashion paintings. 3. Lana Del Rey Lana Del Rey (Matt Crossick/PA) Singer Lana Del Rey was one of the few stars wearing Alexander McQueen for the event and was accompanied by the label's new creative director, Irish designer Seán McGirr. Her nude corseted dress was embellished with hand-embroidered sequinned branches. Del Rey wore a headpiece of natural hawthorn branches, swathes of see-through tulle covering her, and a red rose. Moreover, it's worth noting that the outfit referenced a look from the autumn/winter 2006 Alexander McQueen collection. This particular look featured a similar tulle around the model's head, although it was held up by 'antlers.' 4. Josh O'Connor Josh O'Connor (Evan Agostini/AP) Fresh off the Challengers press tour, Josh O'Connor wore a whimsical Loewe suit with a dramatic tailcoat and sparkling micro bow tie. Moreover, his confidence in himself was admirable. But the best part of his outfit was the shoes—textural floral boots that resembled a pair a model wore on the recent Loewe autumn/winter runway. 5. Kim Kardashian Kim Kardashian caused controversy at the 2022 Met event by wearing Marilyn Monroe's archival dress. The star wore a silver corset gown by Maison Margiela, a floral see-through skirt, and a grey cardigan. She left her icy blonde hair loose and her makeup relatively pared back. 6. Cardi B Cardi B's outfit was undoubtedly dramatic – her Gothic gown surrounded her with layers of black tulle and a vertiginous turban – but it's hard to tell how the night's theme inspired it. She chose up-and-coming designer Windowsen for her couture look, which her stylist Kollin Carter described as "the black rebellious rose." 7. Dan Levy Dan Levy wore a Loewe suit with a black top and vibrant floral bottom, an experimental look. He picked Loewe. Levy stars in their ads and wore it to his first Met Gala in 2021. 8. Zendaya Zendaya (Matt Crossick/PA) Furthermore, it's worth noting that the anticipation was at an all-time high around the night's co-chair Gala look. It was quite a spectacle to behold as Zendaya made her grand entrance, wearing not one but two outfits on the Met steps, truly bringing drama to the event. The first was a dramatic blue and green tulle gown with a sculptural headpiece by Maison Margiela, with embellishments nodding to the natural world. With a dark lip, thin eyebrows, and dramatic eye makeup, her beauty look made up to Margiela's electric couture show, which debuted to massive acclaim in January. Her surprise second outfit was a nod to the other element of the exhibition. She wore a voluminous black dress from Givenchy's spring/summer 1996 couture collection and a floral bouquet as a headpiece. 9. Michael Shannon Despite not being related to the event's theme, actor Michael Shannon sported one of the most striking accessories of the night. He wore a black double-breasted suit. He clutched a yellow bag. On closer inspection, it was a Balenciaga handbag. According to the brand's website, the bag is made of glossy calfskin and has a zip closure. The bag comes in three colors, and while it's currently sold out, it retails at $1,750.31 Read the full article

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gunnxhhjeppesen · 2 years

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Exactly how to cosplay star battles Ahsoka Tano with the right cosplay costumes

Cosplay Ahsoka Tano if you wish to play an one-of-a-kind and powerful personality from the Celebrity Wars franchise business. She appeared as the Padwan pupil of Anakin Skywalker. Fans appreciated her efficiency in 2008's Stars Battles: The Clone Wars animated movie. She also appeared in the TELEVISION series, where numerous fans appreciated this personality.

Ahsoka has belonged of several Celebrity Wars TV shows and also flicks. Her special look makes it an interesting personality to cosplay. Naturally, you need correct prep work and good understanding of this character to portray it faultlessly.

Why cosplay Ahsoka Tano?

Ahsoka is a Togruta female. She was a Padwan student under her master Anakin Skywalker. Ahsoka looked like headstrong trainee and later on as an effective leader.

However, her journey was rather various than other Jedis and that's why it became a remarkable personality in the whole franchise.

Ahsoka got "Snips" nickname from her master Anakin as a result of her amusing retorts. Anakin was a powerful Jedi knight and also Ahsoka was an innovative apprentice. He appreciated her when she damaged a Separatist shield generator to conserve her master's life.

Ahsoka is just one of the leading characters in the Clon Wars films. She underwent numerous heartbreaks, triumphs, ups and also downs, however she fought like a take on warrior together with Duplicate Captain Rex. No character ends up being interesting without specific imperfections. Ahsoka is additionally not immune to important errors. Most of her boxers lost since she rejected to retreat in the Duplicate Wars. That's when Ahsoka learnt more about obligation and also why she need to comply with orders.

Ahsoka's trip is way more interesting than several other Celebrity Wars characters. That's why fans still remember her and also they will certainly give you a substantial round of praise if you perfectly cosplay her personality on the stage!

Ahsoka Tano Costume:

Ahsoka was presented as a crucial protagonist in the Clone Wars film. Her look appears motivated by Princess Mononoke's San. Her opening night in a tube-top-and-miniskirt costume was quite interesting. Nonetheless, it did not last for a very long time. She got a brand-new costume in the 3rd season along with other personalities in the franchise business.

Ahsoka has actually obtained a new lightsaber throughout the third period. Her armor in Rebels seems motivated from the look of Psudo-Samurai. She looks even more like a samurai woman than a celebrity wars fighter. The designers chose this armor due to the fact that it was suggested to look like discovered in an old Jedi holy place. Ahsoka lightsaber has colorless blades, which indicates she is neither a Sith neither a Jedi. Her face markings additionally expose a whole lot about the personality. These markings transformed as she aged.

Ahsoka's costumes altered a little bit in The Duplicate Wars, The Surge of Skywalker, and The Duplicate Battles TELEVISION collection. Have a look at her character in all these motion pictures and shows to decide which costume you intend to cosplay. It will certainly make it a lot easier to examine what you need once you decide which Ahsoka Tano costume is the best for your cosplay.

Cosplaying Ahsoka Tano:

Something that makes Ahsoka's costume quite distinct is her headpiece. It is unlike anything you have actually seen prior to. You can make it in your home if you usually create DIY cosplay costumes. You will require spray foam, cord framework, air duct tape, grains, and spray paint to produce that headpiece.

As you can picture, it will certainly be quite tiring and also lengthy job to develop various parts of her costume in addition to that remarkable and also challenging headpiece. Therefore, you should pick to use Ahsoka Tano readymade costume.

There are a number of renowned costume selling systems. You can ensure modifications to the costume to make it look more eye-catching and one-of-a-kind during the occasion. Ahsuka's costume includes the following:

Montrols as well as Lekku. A black leather coat. A leather belt. Arm tech as well as handwear covers. Leg guards. Arm bands. Sleeveless beige top. cosplay outfits . Brownish boots.

Inspect a couple of photos of Ahsoka Tano to obtain more clearness about the colors used in her costume. Do not forget to get skin-friendly face paint because there are special markings on Ahsoka's face. Get every little thing arranged and also watch Duplicate Wars to discover how Ahsoka walks, talks, and a few other qualities of her personality. Hence, it will certainly be much easier to look like Ahsoka on the stage!

#cosplay falcon avengers

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system-threat-detected · 3 years

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Happy birthday @foibles-fables !!! Hope you enjoy these things Salty and I made for you :)

The below story was written by the wonderful @saltyseafuck as an accompanying piece to the art!

Aloy is comfortable enough in her own skin to make clambering out of her usual attire and into something else an easy affair. To her, it’s as easy as switching one style of arrow for another, or loading a different cartridge into her sling; the right tools, applied where they should be.

So while the noblewoman’s silks provided to her for the evening are not her standard choice of attire, and are… perhaps a bit more limiting than she might have liked, with their long, silken skirts and delicate, filigree jewelry, she adapts, fastening sashes and buckles, and squinting into the polished machine plating tacked to the wall as she applies the ceremonial markings to her forehead and eyes.

Stepping back and peering at her reflection, she nods to herself, picking up the matching headpiece, and holding it briefly to her brow, before finally discarding it on the bed.

She'll be more recognizable without it, anyway.

Easing the door to her quarters shut behind her as she steps onto the landing, she turns, raising a hand to knock on the door directly opposite hers.

“Done. Should we-”

Before her fist can make contact, the door jerks inward, slamming against the inner wall hard enough to make her jump. On the other side, tangled in the trailing silks of her dress, headpiece askew, Talanah glowers in her direction, resembling nothing so much as her title's namesake, complete with ruffled feathers and irate glare.

Pressing her already-raised knuckles to her lips, Aloy does her best to stifle her laughter.

“I’ve never seen you look this uncomfortable before, Talanah.”

Letting out a growl of annoyance, Talanah raises her arms in awkward protest, spreading them apart and letting the snarls of silk dangle.

“Not. A. Word.”

This time, Aloy fails to smother her laugh, nose wrinkling.

“You look like a Glinthawk. Here.”

Stepping forward and taking the scarf in both hands, she unwinds it from its snarl, threading its ends carefully through the loops of silk sewn into the dress's shoulders, and draping them artfully across her Hawk's upper arms.

As she reaches for the sash, smoothing the folded silk and cinching the ends around it, Talanah stiffens, pulling in a sharp breath. Pausing with the ends of the sash clutched in each hand, Aloy frowns.

“Too tight?”

Vehemently shaking her head, knocking her headdress even further askew, Talanah clears her throat, ducking her chin (and doing her best to try and hide the flush creeping across her cheeks and neck.)

“No! No, it’s ...fine. R... Remind me again why we're doing this?"

Tying off the sash and reaching up to adjust the headdress, Aloy raises a brow.

"Because, Marad asked us to. He thinks that having us there and visible will deter the elements he's tracking from acting tonight. We just have to be there, and be present... but that means we have to look the part."

Taking a step back to admire her handiwork, Aloy nods to herself, satisfied, before turning toward the stairs, and offering her arm to the Sunhawk, elbow crooked.

"All we have to do is survive a night at a high society party. Easy, compared to our usual exploits, right?"

With a shake of her head that sets the ornaments attached to the edges of her headdress dangling, Talanah takes the proffered arm, giving Aloy's bracer a sympathetic little pat.

"Ah, poor Thrush. You have no idea how wrong you are."

-----

Talanah has always done her utmost to avoid gatherings of Meridian's nobility. They've been an exercise in frustration for as long as she can remember; boring, stifling, and full of two-faced language, insults dealt from behind painted smiles, and barbed comments, tossed her way behind her back.

Tonight's gathering is no different; despite the quality of the musical entertainment and the refreshments, the people themselves have changed very little, and more than once, despite her attempts to keep to herself, she catches several muttered comments and judgements about her new position that she has to silence with a withering glare.

They're the same old infuriating bunch of bungheads, all right.

But perhaps the most frustrating part of the evening is watching the subtle snubs and digs that are being thrown Aloy's way.

Some of them pass over her head, whether through a lack of understanding or a lack of concern. But a few... a few land, and despite her attempts to shrug them off, or to play dumb... well...

Talanah has spent enough time around Aloy to know, by now, that the slight tightness in her shoulders and at the corner of her mouth, that the darts are finding their mark, worming their way into the cracks in her armor.

It's enough to make Talanah's blood boil, and her teeth grind together, rattling the arms of her headdress and setting the little ornaments dangling from their ends jittering.

She saves our asses from the Eclipse, rescues the Sun-King, and takes down Redmaw, and it still isn't enough for these chuffs. I have got to get her away from them. As soon as I can.

So as the musicians strike up an old, familiar tune, and her Thrush's conversational partners begin to drift away, seeking out new conversation or dancing companions, she seizes her chance to strike.

Downing the rest of her drink, she slams the flagon onto the nearest table with enough force to make the metal ring, stalking across the room to the edge of the dance floor, and extending her hand in Aloy's direction, elbow crooked, fingertips pointed toward the ceiling.

“May I have the honor, Aloy Despite the Nora?”

A light flush creeps onto Aloy's sun-weathered cheeks and, hesitantly, she reaches out to press her wrist against Talanah's.

“Umm… yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Even through two layers' worth of stiffened silk, she can hear Aloy's pulse quicken at the contact.

It quickly becomes apparent to Talanah that, despite her many talents, Aloy is not an experienced dancer. The tension in her movements, the rigidity of her stance, speak more of combat than of dance training.

And, judging by her persistent blush and the stricken look on her face, somewhere between panic and determination, Aloy knows it, too. Nodding as they circle in time to the rhythm, Talanah gives her an encouraging smile.

“Good. But loosen up a little. Now switch…”

Pivoting on her heel and glancing down at the placement of her steps, Aloy makes the transition more smoothly this time, pressing her lips together and frowning lightly in concentration. Again, Talanah favors her with a little nod.

“That’s right. You're doing great. Just keep your eyes on me.”

As they circle again, picking up the pace as the music begins to quicken, she leans in, conspiratorially, the ornaments on the edge of her headdress jingling lightly.

“Don’t listen to those bastards. They’ve always been like this. And they’re wrong, by the way; you’re fine.”

Once again, Aloy flushes, cheeks coloring as red as her hair.

“I… don't need their opinion-”

Talanah cuts her off with a sharp tap, rapping her knuckles twice against the silk of her sleeve to catch her attention.

“Hey. Listen. You’re fine. All right?”

Hopefully, hopefully, Aloy will pick up on her meaning.

Judging by the way the tension that’s been building in her Thrush’s shoulders all night drains, like the air hissing out of a punctured Longleg sac, she does, and Talanah is gratified to see the corners of her mouth ease into a smile, instead of a twitchy grimace.

“Yeah. ...thank you.”

This time, when they turn, pivoting around each other again and pressing their hands together, her fingertips twine briefly with Talanah’s, and she feels her own face heat at the touch.

Clearing her throat, as much to distract herself from the sensation of those calloused fingertips ghosting lightly over her knuckles as to change the subject, she leans in again, putting on a challenging little smirk.

“So, what do you think? Have you got a tie-down on it? Should we show them how it’s done?”

And this time, Aloy answers with an eager grin.

“Yeah. Yeah, I... think I’d like that.”

#I expect to hear your dying shrieks soon :)#aloy #talanah khane padish #hawk and thrush #mine #saltyseafuck #my art #hzd #horizon zero dawn

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musicallisto · 3 years

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♕ — 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝; (anya x f!reader)

summary: “Well! What you need right now is a little bit of spirit-lifting. And I know exactly the medicine.”

prompt: “How long as it been since you’ve slept?” song: dodie - Would You Be So Kind | 𝄞

author notes: my entry for @locke-writes ’ 1.5k writing challenge, and also my first time writing for anastasia! I hope you all enjoy this <3 (i don’t know how to say this but anya is dani and reader is jamie from thobm i don’t know why it makes sense but it does). I wrote this in second person at first then changed my mind and switched everything to third, then changed my mind again so if you see inconsistencies in the pronouns, that’s why (lol i’m a mess)

word count: 1.6k features: a bit of sad Anya, but mostly fluff; singing and music. this is really not my best writing but i’m rusty and overworked so please don’t insult me

𝐎𝐇, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃.

“Who is your great-grandmother?”

“Queen Victoria...”

“Who is your great-great-grandmother?”

“Erm — Princess Victoria of Saxe-Coldburg-Saalfeld!”

Through the beaten mahogany doors, Anya’s attempts at ladyship have been reaching your ears all day. Enthusiastic in the beginning, they have grown progressively more frustrated as the night has swollen, and your friends’ demands with it. There’s little in courtly life, you imagine, that Anya hasn’t tried her hand at yet.

Oh, the poor child indeed.

“Your best friend is...”

“My little brother Alexei —”

“Wrong! Your best friend —”

“I know who my best friend is!”

The outrage in Anya’s voice is almost as palpable as the bitter cold in your room, adjacent to their rehearsals; you can’t help looking up from your book at the closed door, as if it could tell you how to avoid the collision threatening your group. You grit your teeth, both in empathy and apprehension.

“What a temper!”

“I don’t like being contradicted!”

“That makes two of us!”

“Continuing on —” Vlad tentatively interjects, but Anya and Dmitry’s exasperation, even muffled, is clear in their voices. A second more and one of them will snap; although you’re uncertain which of the two short fuses will go off first.

“I’ve had it!”

Ah, so Anya it is.

“I hate you both! I’m sorry that we ever met — I’m hungry, I’m frightened, and I’m only human, don’t forget! I don’t remember anything — get out and let me be!”

“Anya, darling...”

But Vlad’s soft tone, ever the cunning mediator, is not enough this time to alleviate the young woman’s turmoil; and before he’s finished his sentence, raging steps echo in the vast hall, and a door slams — your door, at the step of which Anya stares you down, blinks in confusion, frowns, then lets out a harrowing sound.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know you were here —”

“It’s alright. You can stay here as long as you want.”

Anya lets out a long exhale, heavy as a storm cloud, and slumps down on the foot of your bed with a resounding thud. Her shoulders crumple over themselves like bruised wings, and silence falls on the vast house.

But you can’t keep your attention on your book for very long — not only because the living story before you, defeated and worn, is much more vibrant and bewitching; also due to the racing of your heart whenever Anya stands near you. From the moment you’ve laid eyes on her, and even through the dust and gloom of your night, she’s kept that same regal beauty to her — something neither tatters nor amnesia can erase. It’s not in a long-lost parentage, you think, but all in the way her soul rustles with excitement at anything new and beautiful... rare are the souls, in Saint Petersburg, that gray skies and red stars have not yet tattered.

“They’re making you go through everything, aren’t they?”

“Heavens, yes! It’s too much, and I just want to go home!”

You set your book aside, directing your full attention to Anya.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

“Maybe before the horseriding lessons — I can’t even remember!”

“Horseriding? Was that before the mazurka?”

“Yes, and before ten in the morning! Do you know the order of arrival for each guest at an Imperial ball? First, the Great Princes who come through the entrance in the Saltykov lane, then the bearers of the Court Ranks...”

“Anya, I don’t think that’s neces —”

“And married women must wear diadems! Is that not idiotic? What if I’m unmarried but don’t want to wear flowers in my hair?”

“I think you have way more important problems than your Imperial headpiece, like breathing.”

As if on cue, she takes a sudden gulp of air, and her reddened face, constricted by irritation, somewhat relaxes; maybe from the oxygen, maybe from the slight, amused smile that has crept onto your lips.

“Why haven’t they trained you to be Anastasia?” she resumes, her mouth now curled in a pout.

“Have you seen me?” you chuckle, all holed clothes and creviced skin, but your eyes loving. “I couldn’t even pass for Anastasia’s dog keeper.” (She can’t tell you yet, but she thinks you would make a wonderful princess, gracious and intelligent; but she blushes at the direction her thoughts are taking.)

“Dmitry could be the dog.”

“What a lovely sight.”

You settle into a comfortable silence, cross-legged together on either end of the bed, as the biting wind howls and claws at the window outside; but neither of you feels the cold. December is long forgotten, glowing dim as an ember, as long as you keep your gaze on Anya’s appeased face, the blush on her cheeks, and the romantic delicacy of her features.

“Do you believe you might be the Grand Duchess?”

Your question is but a whisper, and you fear she might not have heard you, even more so since she doesn’t turn her head to face you; but rather her gaze clouds, immobile in the flickering white light. A mist of melancholy traverses her face. A second later, it is gone, save for the last specks of snow in her eyes that never seem to melt.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything,” she responds truly, her words equally as quiet as yours.

“Well, for starters,” you pick up, a little louder this time, “if Anastasia had the temper people say she had... you’ve got that covered.”

She chuckles, like the tinkling of snowflakes twirling in the wind.

“She does sound like she was a lot of trouble, doesn’t she?”

“I think she sounds pretty charming.”

But before you can let the silence stretch for too long, and worry to crease Anya’s porcelain skin again, you enthusiastically slap your thighs and jump from the bed.

“Well! What you need right now is a little bit of spirit-lifting. And I know exactly the medicine.”

After rummaging through the mountain of clutter piled in the corners of your room — what in the world are Vlad’s sketchbooks doing here anyw-- Christ, so that’s where that book was all this time! — you brandish in triumph a triangular-shaped instrument, the one you carved yourself in leftover logs, on a particularly freezing night, the one the three of you painted with care until the crack of dawn to keep you warm and joyful.

“Oh, play me something, please!” Anya’s childlike passion engulfs your heart as you clumsily test out the chords. The balalaika is worn and sanded off at the sides, and severely out of tune, but your hands find their familiar places without hesitation, and the sound of the instrument is clear enough for the both of you on an exhausting and windy night.

You pick up speed, falling into a melody you once knew; what fragments you can’t remember, you improvise, and try your best not to grimace; but Anya’s leaning over, eyes and smile wide as though she wants to drown in your music, and all of a sudden your chest has started to sing on its own.

“Would you be so kind as to fall in love with me? You see, I’m trying; I know you know that I like you, but that’s not enough, so if you will please fall in love, it’s only fair...”

Your eyes leave the strings as your voice rediscovers the words, your fingers the notes; Anya, in front of you, nods her head to the rhythm she savors for the first time, her foot keeping time unconsciously. If she ever had a childhood, this is surely what it was made of: soft, loving voices, gleaming eyes, a ray of light on her face, and the irrepressible urge to laugh.

"There’s gotta be some butterflies somewhere, wanna share? ‘Cause I like you, but that’s not enough, so if you will please fall in love with me...”

You’re grinning wide too, now, but unaware of it; all you see is Anya and her joyful brilliance, and you could swear that despite all the weariness in her body and the bruises on her soles, she’s ready to jump around in utter liberation. If only the music descended by itself from above your heads, you think, and you could drop the balalaika to dance with her — a dance she might enjoy, this time, a dance she doesn’t know the steps to!

Soon enough, you start giggling, without really knowing why; maybe from the silly wiggling of the shoulders Anya does, or maybe from the overflowing of light and sun in your chest; and it’s a pain to let out the last words between your uncontrollable laughter, even more after Anya starts laughing too.

“Oh, I like you, but that’s not enough... so if you will please fall in love with me...”

And so, after your grand finale — holding the last note a little too long and a little too high, and stroking the strings a little too fast like a Russian bolero —, the song comes to an end, the notes hanging in the air like your suspended laughter and hitched breaths... and your sparkling eyes lost in the sea of each other dare to hope, for the first time, that something might happen...

... but it doesn’t.

“Thank you for cheering me up,” she pulls back with a sincere smile, and you can’t fight the cruel disappointment seeping in your chest. Of course — you’re still in Saint Petersburg, where dreams have died long ago, and she has a fate much larger than yours. Still, you return the kind smile. She deserves as much; she deserves everything.

“No, thank you. For letting yourself be cheered up.”

The wind is still howling outside the window, but it carries, like an effervescence, the distant music of a balalaika, and you remain hopeful, your hand resting next to Anya’s.

If she would be so kind...

tagging; @softeninglooks @fives-cup-of-coffee (all my writing) ; @bravelittlesunflower @lxncelot @amortensie (musicals)

#mywriting #anastasia #anastasia broadway #anastasia imagine #anastasia one-shot #anastasia x reader #anastasia fanfiction #anya x reader #anya imagine #anya one-shot

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sunnymenagerie · 3 years

Text

RuPaul's Drag Race: Where Was Pink Slip?

Tina was right...there….and RuPaul really went and sent home a queen that was on the rise and not the one that’s been in quicksand from day one?

The remaining eight queens reached the makeover challenge and because of Miss Rona, could not makeover anyone from the outside world, so they were paired off by a psychic - yeah - and told to makeover one another in their drag style. First though, what the fuck was up with the psychic, and did anyone else feel like RuPaul wasn’t in the room with them? He looked like he was in front of a green screen the entire time and the psychic? Random.

She went from talking about Tina’s never-there-father to Utica’s dead cow. Again, random. Like, can we not act shocked that this lady knew things that they probably said online or in their audition videos? Anyways...Dollar Tree Miss Cleo paired the girls off in teams of two based on who could learn the most from one another. Unfortunately for the uptight Rose that meant getting down with the red, yellow, and orange-hued loosey-goosey Tina Burner. I went into this worried for Rose because they were going to be judged as a pair this week and well, that first look Tina put Rose in was a hot fucking mess. However, what she walked down the runway in was somehow worse!

Speaking of worried, from the preview last week I knew Symone and Utica were going to be quite the pair, and with one of them just having visited the bottom two...I didn’t know if that was going to deflate the small-town queen or ignite her. Right after we watched her rock an afro made of squirrels as if not to appropriate a white man with an afro, we watched her become very wary of stepping into the fierce heels of Symone because like all of Symone’s runways, her makeover one was unapologetically Black. Inspired by the Halle Berry cult classic ‘BAPS,’ Utica was either going to fucking serve or wind up lip-syncing for the second time in a row, and we all know it would’ve been her last. However, it wasn’t just on Utica’s fear of being canceled, because Utica’s look and runway walk is just as hard to imitate, especially for a fashion queen like her partner. Thankfully this pairing fucking worked, which is something I can’t say for Olivia and Denali.

Three of the pairs were pretty evenly matched in terms of size, especially Olivia and Denali, so I thought...these girls have it the easiest. Plus, they’re gorgeous and seem easy to paint. I guess when you assume it’s too easy, it’s actually well - let’s just say that one’s makeup was questionable, and the other was lacking a tiny purse. Unlike Denali and Olivia, Gottmik and Kandy Muse faced the hardest challenge based on their size difference. Nothing in Gottmik’s bags was going to fit her season 13 sister and they knew they were going to have to create something on the fly, and take another garment in. They were safe, but honestly - I didn’t live for Kandy’s look which...

In terms of the challenge, the judges weren’t wrong to declare Symone and Utica the winners of this week’s challenge. They embraced one another’s not only aesthetic but actually learned what they were supposed to from it. Plus, neither of them let their sister walk out there looking like a fool. Symone was engulfed in the oddities that make Utica standout, while Symone’s aura oozed out of Utica with every confident step she took. The judges had been waiting for weeks for Utica to serve fashion and tonight she did. Who didn’t fare well, most of the other girls. I will say that Rose did as best she could with what she had given Tina was her partner. This was the second time in 10 weeks that Tina’s looked okay. Rose...oh Rose, here’s where we have a case of someone letting their sister look horrendous.

Look, there were several weeks during this season where Tina Burner wore only three prominent colors for her brand. So when it came time to dress Rose like her, where the hell were the reds, yellows, and oranges? She went out looking like the blacklisted queen from season 12. It didn’t feel like Tina at all, and I feel like Tina should’ve been in the bottom two alongside Olivia since Miss Lux didn’t really put herself into Denali’s look. Which, Denali looked good - better than Olivia in my opinion, but…ya know. As for Gottmik and Kandy, I thought Gottmik looked great but I expected her to give us more of a New York City, Bronx look instead of a Harley Davidson Model. Then there’s Kandy, the makeup was good but I thought we’d see the actual Gottmik face. I was left underwhelmed with those two but agreed that they’d be rightfully safe as they were just...

Ugh, judging in pairs was such a mistake because, in the end, the wrong girl went home. Olivia and Tina should have been trying to save their ass with Mary Mary, but alas...Denali was in the bottom and despite two strong ass back-to-back top three placements - Ru sent her skating. I didn’t think Denali was going to make the top four, but I didn’t see her leaving before her makeover partner or Tina.

Next week is another acting challenge. The one where they have to sell an item, and while Utica just won a challenge, we all know she’s not the best in these situations. Even though she has all that improv to her name. Next week could either be the week she or Tina finally shines on their own, or we could be seeing them in the bottom.

Makeover Looks Ranked:

Utica: Once she got out of her head, she finally brought her runway to new heights

Symone: For as weird as it was, that headpiece was so Coachella, acid trip beautiful

Gottmik: It was a nice fit, I just wasn’t a fan of the print

Denali: She looked great but it just wasn’t Olivia Lux

Tina Burner: Rose should dress her more often

Olivia Lux: She looked like a used loofa

Rose: The face was a mess and the outfit was tragic

Kandy Muse:

Week 10 Rankings & Reasonings:

Symone - With another win under her belt, we’re heading into an acting challenge. There is no way she is going anywhere anytime soon - unless they surprise them with a sewing AND singing challenge!

Gottmik - Safe this week, but she still killed her runway and like Symone, knows how to deliver in an acting challenge

Rose - Rose being near the bottom this week was not her fault. She made over Tina the best she could, and with the acting challenge being a solo game - she has a chance to outshine her competitors

Olivia - Yes, most of the girls said her name when asked who should go home but as someone who bounces back and forth on the spectrum between bottom and top, I don’t think she’s close to leaving us quite yet

Kandy Muse - Her personality will lead her to another week on the show

Utica - One win to her name doesn't mean anything, especially when she’s gotta act next? We’ve all seen her bomb before in challenges like this so it’s going to be interesting to see if she actually grasps the concept of Drag Race humor

Tina Burner -

#rupauls drag race #drag race #gottmik #symone #tina burner #olivia lux #rose #denali #kandy muse #utica #tv review #tv recap #television #vh1 #drag queens

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evanaaml · 4 years

Text

Trick or Treat

A little one-shot for #MistyAppreciationDay that I cooked up. Figured, with the holiday closing in, I ought to make it Halloween-themed. Hope you enjoy!

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"Ok, I think just a few more should do it, what do you think, Azurill?"

"Azu! Zu!"

Misty giggled at her little baby Pokémon as it bounced over the kitchen floor to the little table and grabbed some clementines with its tail.

Halloween was here, and at the Cerulean Gym, Misty, (with her sisters), were put in charge of hosting this year's holiday party. Every year, the Kanto Gym Leaders would take turns hosting holiday events for the league, and more importantly, the people of Kanto. The leaders would often alternate which gym would host which holiday, (with a few exceptions; Lt. Surge insisted on hosting Kanto Independence Day), and this year, the Sensational Sisters were placed in charge of Halloween.

Misty's sisters, Daisy, Lily, and Violet, preferred to host a summer event, (and Misty could hardly blame them, a part of her did, too), but they didn't complain. Any chance to dress up and socialize was a win for them.

For Misty, it was the new norm.

When she was younger, and her sisters were in charge, the league kept them out of these events. They knew they were young and inexperienced. And Misty was naive, she was traveling, looking to become a water Pokémon master, she didn't think of hosting parties or charities. She thought the gym life was just battling trainer after trainer; she thought nothing of the rules or politics that went with it.

But now that she was the primary leader, things like this were her new life. Battles, as it turns out, were a small part of the gym leader life. She had to work with the league, do a lot of paperwork, keep up-to-date on the healthcare of her Pokémon and her employees, and do plenty of personal appearances for Cerulean City.

But despite it all, the stress and the pressure and the busy lifestyle...she loved it. While it wasn't entirely what she expected when she took over the gym all those years ago, she knew that it would be difficult. And she took that challenge with her head held high. She didn't want it to be easy, she wouldn't have taken the position if she thought it would be. It would just prove to herself that she was up to the task if it worked out. And so far, it had.

Still, a little warning would have been nice.

At the moment, Misty was making snacks for the guests. Her cooking skills, while coming a long way since her childhood days on the road, were still...not up to par for mixed company.

Of course, she wouldn't admit that; of course not.

Instead, she opted to put together food already made. In this case, she was placing tiny celery stalks into clementines for a healthy pumpkin-looking treat. Her cooking may not be the best, but her craftsmanship was impressive.

Azurill hopped back to the table and with a mighty bounce, landed on top to place the clementines down. The green paper gently tied around its tail rustled. Azurill was painted (with Pokemon-friendly paint!), a dark green, and with "leaves" on its tail, made itself to be an Oddish. Misty couldn't help but smile every time she saw her adorable Pokémon in its costume.

As for her, Misty opted to go a bit more mythical. She wore a light blue and white body suit and had wired-lined white ribbon around her waist that stuck out around her body; as if flowing in waves. Attached to the back of her neck was a large hood with a light blue headpiece and long, purple hair. At the moment, it was down, but if she flipped it up, it'd stick up just above her head.

She always felt an attachment to Suicune, the Aurora Pokémon. This was of course no surprise, she felt an attachment to all Water-Pokémon. Certain ones, however, had an aura about them to that she could not help but feel drawn to in more ways than just admiration. Suicune was mist personified.

"How they comin'?" someone asked from outside the kitchen.

"Almost done!", Misty replied.

"Alright, I'm gonna show you my costume; prepared to be, like, mind-blown!" the person stated. Misty shook her head in exasperation, but giggled all the same.

"I'm waiting on baited breath", Misty replied sarcastically. Within moments, Daisy entered the room. Like Misty, she wore a body suit, but it was a much darker blue with light blue bands going down the side and around her waist and chest. She had large fins on her back that looked more like elegant Butterfree wings outside of the water. She had two sets of much smaller fins on her side and abdomen. In her hand was what looked like a flat, black baton with a pink dot on it.

"TADA! What do you think?", Daisy asked, striking a pose with one hand in the air and the other on her hip.

"A Lumineon, fitting! A shame they aren't in Kanto waters, having one in the gym would be amazing", Misty said dreamily. She imagined the glowing aura Pokémon swimming through the pool at night, its glow lighting up the water and making the pool seem almost supernatural.

"Like, don't go off daydreaming again, we need the snacks finished soon! Some guests are already here, and the doors open to the public in an hour", Daisy scolded lightly.

"Yeah, yeah", Misty said, waving her off. Misty wasn't interested in impressing the League's big-wigs, they rarely left their offices for these events anyway; instead opting to sends notices reminding her to "Keep up the standards of the Kanto Pokémon League, esq.".

Yawn.

And she wasn't concerned about making an impression with the gym leaders. Through her journey as a child, she got to know them all on a personal level. Through her new position, that level of friendship only increased; she became tight with all of them. Erika and her hung out on the regular, Misty was the first person who Sabrina opened up to, and whom she was now the closest with, Blaine continued to this day to send her riddles for her to solve, (which she never failed to do), and she became a sort of mentor to Forrest; Brock's younger brother, and the gym leader of Pewter City, (when his brother was away for studies).

Her biggest concerns came from the citizens of the city. Namely, the kids. Since becoming the gym leader, she became a role model for the kids of the city. She would host events at the gym, speak in classrooms, run charities, and of course battle any locals who wanted to test their metal before officially joining the League challenge. They were the ones she wanted to impress, to put a smile on their faces. This was for them.

She began peeling the clementines that Azurill handed her. "I have to say though, Daisy, as beautiful as the costume is, I thought you'd do a little more for the party", Misty stated. Her sisters were known for going all out for all their outfits; regardless of occasion. And while her older sister's costume was well made, it didn't seem to have that "over the top" feature that they were known for. Daisy winked.

"Oh, just watch", Daisy replied. Misty looked on as Daisy reached over to one of the fins on her side. She slid a tiny lever up, and within moments, the blue bands along her body and fins lit up in a fluorescent glow. "Like the Sensational Sisters wouldn't try to be the stars of the evening".

...Ok, she was impressed.

"Wow! That's amazing, Daisy!", Misty said.

"I know, right?", Daisy replied. She walked over towards the table to pick up a platter of the finished treats. "You know, if you weren't so stingy, we were going to add lights to your outfit, too".

"I didn't know you were going to do that, I just wanted to add my own part to the costume is all. I didn't want you three to do all the work for my own costume", Misty replied. Her stubbornness never left her. She knew her sisters were more talented at crafts like costumes than she was, but she didn't have it in her to let them do it all on their own, even if they were happy to. She had to help.

"Well, the ribbons did come out nice, so, I guess you got some of our talent after all", Daisy said. Misty glared daggers at her older sister. Did she really not think about what she said before saying it?

But she let it slide. Since her sisters returned from their trip, and she was put in charge of the gym, they had all made great strides in becoming more of a family. They had their fights and spats, but Misty felt that they were the kind of disagreements that siblings had.

So then the others have similar costumes?", Misty asked.

"You bet!", someone called out. Daisy turned around and Misty glanced over to see Lily and Violet approaching them. Violet stepped into the kitchen, walking sideways through the doorway to fit in. She had several tentacles attached to her waist from a subtle belt. Some tentacles dangled from the belt and hung just above the ground, while others had some sort of support that allowed them to stick out a small ways from her body. Two tentacles were attached to small sticks, which she held in her hand to raise and move like the real thing. She wore brown leggings and a bell-shaped costume with two large glowing plastic orbs on her shoulders, with a smaller glowing one attached to her head via a tiara. She also had a long, jagged stinger, which she currently had just dangling around her neck.

"Awww! Tentacruel! How beautiful!", Misty said.

"Well, I dunno about beautiful, but it sure is illuminating!" Violet replied, lifting two of the tentacles up in a pose with a smile. Misty was insulted at Violet's blatant disregard for one of the most beautiful sea Pokémon.

"What are you, Lily?", Misty asked, ignoring Violet for her crime...for now.

"TOO BIG TO FIT INTO THE ROOM!", Lily whined. The sisters sighed.

Lily had a large shell that hung from her waist and raised up over her head, and a pink sphere around her chest, with black leggings to finish the attire. Around her body within the shell, she had white orbs that glowed similar to her sisters. The shell was too tall and too wide to fit her through the door frame.

"It's just the shell, Lily, like, no one's gonna think you're fat", Violet stated, knowing full-well what she was worried about.

"The costume came out amazing...BUT AT WHAT COST!?", Lily asked out loud.

"The costume looks great, Lily! What did you use to keep it light and bulky like that?", Misty asked.

"DON'T SAY BULKY!", Lily replied in disgust. Violet groaned.

"EVA foam. It's in all of our outfits, including yours", Daisy answered, ignoring Lily's outburst. She used the tail in her hand to point to Misty's hood.

"Oh, really? I just thought it was cardboard", Misty replied, lifting the hood up over her head.

"As if! Like cardboard would be able to keep that form!", Daisy replied. Misty sighed. Her sisters were experts at costumes from all the ballets they put on; they really knew which materials to use and how to make them stand out. If their jobs at the gym didn't work out, Misty thought they could make a career as professional cosplayers.

"Not gonna lie, sis, I'm a little bummed that you didn't go with Lugia for your costume. I mean, like, you SAW it and everything!", Violet exclaimed, recalling her sister's incident in the Orange Islands.

"Lugia was certainly a finalist. I may go with it next year, but that costume would probably take me longer to make", Misty admitted, thinking of the struggle to make its wings and tail manageable.

"Personally, I thought you should have gone with Bruxish, I think it fits you better", Lily said with a sneer, thinking of the large, big-lipped fish. All three sisters burst into laughter at the thought. Misty growled.

"OH WHO ASKED YOU, ANYWAY!?", Misty yelled. Azurill jumped in shock at the outburst. Misty gasped, realizing her error, and rushed over to console the baby.

"Wow, way to go, Misty, scare the poor little baby why don't you?", Daisy said in jest. Misty glared, but kept her cool this time.

"So, anyway, what guests are here?", Misty asked, changing the topic. Daisy handed the platter in her hand to Violet while she grabbed another one to hand to Lily.

"None of the other gym leaders yet, but they'll be here any minute, I'm sure", Violet answered.

"The mayor's here, and some of his guests", Daisy added.

"No surprise. Any trainers?", Misty asked.

"Uhm...yeah! That Casey girl is here!", Violet answered. Misty's eyes lit up.

"That's wonderful! I was hoping she'd come around. I know she head's back to Johto during the holidays, I'm glad she could stop by before that", Misty said. She had met many trainers on her journeys over the years, plenty of whom she was still in contact with. They would make time to write her notes or video call her, some would even visit if they were in the area. It made her heart feel good that she still had so many friends from her childhood.

"Brock said he'd be over with his family soon, too. Prof. Oak said he was running late, had to pick up Mrs. Ketchum and someone else", Lily said from outside the kitchen.

"Probably Gary. Alright. Did anyone call while I was working in here?", Misty asked.

"Yes! May did. She said that she'll be here! Didn't say what time exactly, but that she can't wait to catch up!", Daisy answered. Misty smiled. May was someone who she only got to meet once or twice in her childhood, but as she got older, she got to hang out with more and more.

Any friend of his would be a friend of hers, given enough time.

She was a coordinator, a field that Misty knew she wouldn't be cut out for, but loved to see. Misty's sisters, who had an interest in coordinating before becoming co-gym leaders, quickly became some of her biggest fans. They were even one of her first sponsors when she was skilled enough to take some on.

"*Sigh* I knew she would. I can't wait to catch up, it's been far too long since we've seen her. I know Dawn can't make it, she's too far away, but she sends her regards!", Misty explained.

"Aww, how sweet!", Lily replied.

"Iris has her own League's party to deal with, Serena is in Hoenn, and...Tracy's been here all day helping set up", Misty said, thinking to herself of what friends could show up.

"Wait, aren't you missing someone?", Violet asked.

There was a pause.

"...No, I'm pretty sure that's it", Misty replied, feeling a little twitch in her chest.

"...Misty, you know you're forgetting someone", Lily replied.

Another twitch, more painful than the last.

Misty turned around to face the little snacks she was making.

"...No, I'm not. Everyone who said they were going to come, already answered", Misty retorted. The sisters looked at one another. They were all thinking the same thing. About the same person.

"Misty...what about Ash?", Daisy asked.

Twitch.

Azurill, sensing a sudden mood change in its trainer, hopped over to her side. Misty just looked at the fruit before her, her mind elsewhere.

"He...isn't coming".

The sensational sisters seemed perplexed at the statement. As if it didn't seem possible.

"Ash isn't coming? Did he say that?", Daisy asked, slightly shocked.

"He didn't say anything, I left him a message, telling him the details, and he didn't respond", Misty answered. The words came out harsher than she intended, but it felt deserved none the less.

"That doesn't seem like him. He's dense, but not rude", Violet replied.

"Yeah, like, are you sure he would just bail on you like that?", Lily asked.

"I don't know, and quite frankly, I don't care", Misty spat back. She grabbed a few clementines, stabbed celery stalks into them, and then held the platter out for one of them to grab. "Here. Done. I'll work on another treat set and then head out". The sisters all looked at one another in a mutual feeling of concern.

The sisters knew their own strengths, they knew they had beauty, charm, and a wit that would rival anyone. But they also knew their own weaknesses.

They knew that, despite all of their shared love of Water Pokémon and the gym, and the training they've put in since their time back home, that they weren't the best trainers. And though there were many, many differences between them and their youngest sister over personalities, and ideas for running the gym to its prime capabilities, that Misty always thought with the gym's best intentions.

They knew that their "runt" of a younger sister, the "not-so sensational sister", was the best the gym had to offer.

And while they had confidence that she'd get over this soon, it still pained them to see her like this. Misty was most certainly not the type to drool over men the way they used to, (or, still do in some cases), but they knew, from the moment they met him, that she had the one. And that one, right now, was hurting her.

Daisy sighed and walked over, taking the platter. She could see, albeit only from a glance, the pain in her sister's face.

"Misty, hun, listen...just, don't judge too harshly, ok? I know he didn't reply, but you don't know why yet. Maybe something came up, maybe there was bad service where he is, maybe he is, in fact, just an idiot...So please...go easy on him, ok? If, afterwards, it turns out he just ditched you, then Hell, I'll drive you to him myself so you can beat his ass", Daisy explained. Lily and Violet shuddered at the thought of her behind the wheel with their sister again. "But, until then, just...keep an open mind, ok?".

Misty clenched her hands, feeling like she was about to explode. Who were they to tell her how to feel about this situation? But...she eventually sighed, and nodded.

"Yeah...you're right", Misty replied.

And it pained her to admit it.

"Alright. Don't take too long with the next snacks, I'm sure these will last until the main course arrives. Most everyone's eating candy anyway", Daisy explained. Misty gave a half-hearted giggle.

Daisy walked away from Misty and looked to her other sisters. They both looked worried for their youngest sibling, but knew that things would be clear in due time.

Call it women's intuition.

From out of the kitchen, Lily turned towards a noise, and giggle aloud.

"Well, I don't know about Ash, but at least you can see Pikachu tonight", Lily said through laughs. Misty turned around in shock as Lily side-stepped to allow something to pass her.

Walking into the kitchen, its hands on either side of its head, was Misty's ever-so faithful companion, Psyduck. Attached to its head by a thick rubber band were long, flimsy pieces of paper, cut out awkwardly into points with black tips drawn on with crayon. Attached over its tail was a tube, which led to an equally poorly-cut Pikachu tail. To compliment the additions, red circles were sloppily painted on its cheeks.

"Psy.Duck.Psy.Duck.Psy.Duck", Psyduck said as it marched towards its trainer. It finished with a final "Psy" as it stopped on front of her.

"Ohhh, bless its little heart, it tried its best", Daisy said, both loving and horrified at Psyduck's attempt at a Pikachu costume.

"How did it struggle to paint simple circles on its cheeks, but made the brown stripes all the way over on its back almost perfect? I swear your Psyduck's like, the weirdest thing on two legs", Violet exclaimed. Psyduck tilted its head in response.

"Psyduck!"

"Oh leave it alone! I think your costume is...wonderfully you, Psyduck!", Misty stated, bending down to give her Pokémon care. The water type smiled as Misty readjusted its ears.

"Well, don't take too long, alright? Psyduck, make sure she comes out to mingle soon, ok?", Daisy said, instructing the duck Pokémon.

"Psyduck!", Psyduck exclaimed, waving its hand in the air. Daisy and Violet then left the kitchen, and, with Lily, went towards the pool area. They wanted to socialize with the elite and friends, but more still, they wanted Misty to have a moment to herself.

They knew things would turn around for her soon enough.

Misty, meanwhile, looked to her little sheet of "Halloween Snack Ideas" she "borrowed" from Serena's blog online to see what to make next. All the snacks were easy to make, and for most of them, they had the ingredients right there in the kitchen. But the more she thought, the more she got anxious. She didn't want to make anything. She didn't want to be there all of a sudden.

What was wrong with her?

She shook her head, and looked back to the sheet. They were easy ideas, Serena made them even simpler by explaining it in easy steps. But she couldn't find the urge to get started. Her mind kept wandering. Kept getting side-tracked.

She groaned.

Eventually, Misty sighed, tossed the sheet aside, and just sat on the stool at the kitchen island. Azurill bounced over and hopped into her arms while Psyduck wobbled over and leaned against her leg from the floor. They both knew what was getting to her.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you two. I don't mean to worry you. I'll be fine, I'm sure of it", Misty said, rubbing Azurill gently. She said it, but she herself didn't believe it. Misty sighed. "Who am I kidding? I don't know when I'll get over this. It's just...so unlike him. If he had told me he couldn't make it, I would have understood. He's missed more parties and events I've had than I can even keep track of. But to just...not respond to me. To just, leave me sitting here, wondering, and...hoping...it hurts".

Misty found herself clutching Azurill tighter to her chest. It wasn't just the lack of response that bothered her, it was that it came from him that really made it hurt. He just didn't do that. He was always busy, always traveling, always training. Working day in and day out to accomplish his dream; something she would never cease to admire.

But he always made time to talk to her.

Maybe she was spoiled over it. Maybe, she thought, that she expected too much from him, and that, realistically, he didn't need to answer every message that came his way from her. Maybe he was busy responding to another female friend of his?

Twitch.

She shook the idea out of her head. What made her think it was a female friend? What made her think it was even a friend he was talking to? It could have been a multitude of things. He could have gotten hung up with a gym battle. He could be traveling out in the wild with no signal. He could be somewheres out there, alone, and with no one to help him.

Twitch.

Again, she shook the thought out of her head. Why did she keep jumping to the worst conclusions? Azurill nuzzled more into her, sensing her anxiety levels rising. Misty sighed. These thoughts of hers were getting out of hand. She wanted to distract herself. She needed to distract herself.

But the motivation wasn't there. She knew what she had to do, and she knew that doing it would help. But try as she might, she couldn't will herself to start, and so she sat, with the same question running through her mind.

Why didn't Ash answer?

A commotion in the pool area startled her out of her thoughts momentarily. Misty could just make out the voice of her sisters talking to a person or persons. More guests were arriving.

It was as much motivation as she was going to get, she thought. Misty sighed, and stood up, placing Azurill down on the table in the process. Looking at the sheet momentarily once more, she decided on a snack and grabbed several bananas. She handed some to Psyduck.

"Here, peel these for me, please", Misty said. Psyduck took the bananas and began to peel the skins away with its sharp webbed claws. Misty herself peeled a banana and then cut it in half. Then, with a chocolate-filled pipping bag, began to draw the tiniest of dots on the ends of the bananas. Within seconds, a ghost face had formed. Serena's "Boo-Nanas".

With Psyduck's help, Misty managed to make a fair amount within only a couple minutes. Before she knew it, she almost had enough for a platter's worth. While it was still in the back of her mind, her concerns over Ash weren't controlling her like they did moments before.

"Ok, that's a fair amount done. Let's get a few more and we can send it out...Psyduck?", Misty asked, holding her hand out and expecting to be given a peeled banana. She turned to see that Psyduck was smelling the air. "What is it? You smell something? Wonder if the main courses arrived from the restaurant?", Misty wondered aloud. Azurill also began sniffing the air. Soon, both Pokémon recognized the scent and turned to the door. The sound of something dragging caught Misty's attention.

Entering the kitchen was a small creature, draped in some kind of old-looking sheet. Small black dots were on the lower form, while the head looked to be a misshapen form of a Pikachu. Eyes, cheeks, and a smile were drawn on with some form of crayon, as were the ear tips, not unlike Psyduck's. The head was limp, bobbing left and right and refusing to sit upright. A stick for a tail was stuck to the end of the sheet, by a means Misty could not immediately tell. The figure stood there, not saying a word.

Admittedly, Misty was creeped out, but she recognized the costume. It was a Mimikkyu, a Pokémon from the Alola region.

"Well, hello there", Misty said politely. There was no response from the Mimikkyu. "Hmm, well, I know what you're supposed to be. The question is, are you the real deal? Or are you a costume within a costume?". The figure raised up, the sides of the sheet extending out ever so slightly from the lower body, as it groaned. Misty sighed, no dark appendages.

"Ok, well you're not a real Mimikkyu. So who are you?", Misty asked. The figure darted with surprising across the kitchen floor and to the table, hoping up with ease. It crawled over to the gym leader and sat there, staring at her as the head bobbled more. Misty was creeped out, but sighed. "Ok, being stubborn huh?". She put her hand on the head, stopping it from moving. The figure shuttered, causing Misty to actually tense up. It groaned loudly as Misty held its head.

She heard of the legends surrounding the ghost type. And while she had the utmost confidence that this was nothing more than a Pokémon, dressed up as a Mimikkyu, the hesitation was still there. None the less, she gulped and lifted the head up, and the sheet with it.

"PIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII....KACHU-PI!".

Her heart skipped a beat, both from relief, and shock.

"P-Pikachu!? What, how!?", Misty asked. The mouse Pokémon had raised its paws up, growling menacingly as its costume was revealed, in an attempt to be scary. But ultimately greeted its female friend with its usual smile.

"But wait, if you're here, then...", Misty said, realizing the inevitable truth. She covered her mouth and immediately began fighting tears that were suddenly forming as she turned to the doorway. Just popping into view was a man, dressed up in a store-bought Entei costume. The man lowered the mask, revealing the face.

"Hiya, Mist...been awhile".

Misty, despite the well of emotions she was feeling, both positive and negative, couldn't stop herself as the two embraced in a large hug. Ash wrapped his arms around her tight and she felt like she would melt into him. He smelled like dirt road and wild grass, with hints of dewdrops. A combination of scents she missed, and grew to love over time.

"Damn, still got an inch on me, thought for certain I'd be taller. I think we're both done growing, too", Ash joked.

"Ash...", Misty said, smiling with tears coming down her face. "...you ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE!".

Misty immediately stepped back and punched him in the arm, causing him to jump back and rub it firmly.

"Ow! Damn, still got a killer punch I see!", Ash replied. Pikachu sighed. It appeared as if little changed over the years. It hopped down from the table with Azurill to catch up with its friend Psyduck, and admire its rendition of itself.

"What the HELL were you thinking!?", Misty asked. Despite the tears and rage inside of her, she was smiling and laughing as she asked it. She was a whole mess of emotions and she didn't know which one was in control at the moment.

"I was thinking that my plan went off without a hitch", Ash replied, still rubbing his arm.

"Your plan!?", Misty asked.

"Yeah! Your sisters knew! I asked them what costume you were wearing, so that I could match it...but dang, you really had to go all-out and make me look cheap, didn't you?", Ash explained, looking over Misty's costume.

"They knew!? Argh! I'm gonna KILL THEM!", Misty growled, nearly tearing her hood off.

"Actually, they seemed pretty upset with me, too. Did you not know I was coming or something?", Ash asked.

Twitch.

There was a moment of silence. Misty turned towards the trainer. He looked genuinely perplexed. It was a look she swore was stuck to his face nine hours of the day.

"...How could I, when you DON'T ANSWER!?", Misty asked. Ash stood back from the angry response, and Misty could tell he was rearing to protect his other arm.

"Woah, woah, I did respond!", Ash exclaimed. He then fumbled in his costume pants pocket and pulled out his Poképhone. He unlocked the screen and immediately began going through his messages. "See, look, you sent me the text, asking if I would come to the party, and showing me your official invite sheet, and yadda yadda, and here I said...".

There was a pause.

Ash groaned heavily. Pikachu did the same. He tapped a button, and within a few seconds, Misty heard the sound of a water droplet. She recognized it as her custom ringtone for a text message. She grabbed her Poképhone from off the table to see, on her screen, a single message.

"Why not both? ;)"

Twitch.

"I uh...I thought I hit send...I apparently did not...", Ash said sheepishly. Pikachu slapped its forehead.

"...Ash...", Misty said.

"Y...Yes?", Ash asked.

"...You are, in fact...just an idiot", Misty exclaimed. Ash sighed.

"Oh, yeah, that I knew", Ash replied. He expected much worse.

"Why not both?", Misty asked, referring to the message.

"Uh, yeah. Your message. After you sent me the image of your paper invite you sent out to people, you asked me, "So, Trick, or Treat?". And that was my answer.

"...Both?", Misty asked.

"Yeah, the treat was that I'd be here for you. The trick...well, the trick was technically Pikachu's costume, in an attempt to scare you, but I guess this little incident is more of a trick now?", Ash replied with a nervous chuckle. Misty sighed and covered her eyes with her hands. In doing so, more tears came out. They were residual, but it was enough for Ash to notice. He rushed over and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Misty, I'm so sorry, I swear to you, I didn't intend to hurt your feelings. I wondered why you didn't respond, and I didn't think to check and see if the message sent, I figured you were just busy with preparations and talked to your sisters about me coming over. I guess they thought that you got a reply from me until tonight", Ash quickly explained. His chest hurt from seeing Misty tear up like that. Especially that it happened because of him.

"Ash...the amount of emotional pain you've briefly given me...is nothing, compared to the amount of PHYSICAL pain I'm going to put you through after the party", Misty exclaimed. Ash shuddered. "And once I tell your mom what you did, she'll probably add to it".

"...You wouldn't".

"Gyarados won't even be able to eat your remains, they'll be so pulverized".

"...Pikachu wouldn't let that happen to me".

"Piiiii", Pikachu answered.

"Once again, you've proven to be just the BEST friend I could ask for!", Ash said sarcastically.

"But for now...", Misty started. She slowly leaned into Ash and wrapped her arms around him. "...let me just...sit here a bit?" She closed her eyes, took in a wiff of his scent, and smiled. Ash smiled himself, wrapped his arms around her, and closed his eyes.

"Take as long as you need...Happy Halloween, Misty".

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I haven't stopped writing and editing this story for the last few hours, and I'm EXHAUSTED. I'm so sorry if this story isn't up to snuff; I'm out of practice. This was my contribution to Misty Appreciation Day, hope you enjoyed!

-EVAN AAML

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sccumumu · 5 years

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zach & gabe // [ the party ]

Gabriel, who has been dragged along to parties and social gatherings since he was younger, used to loathe them. A large part of that was because he used to get very overwhelmed in large crowds and around unfamiliar people to the point that it developed into mild anxiety attacks. His parents, always advocates for mental health (especially in children and adolescence), made him go to therapy. Ironically, he had an anxiety attack the very first time he stepped foot into the office, so that was fun and not at all traumatizing. He hadn’t wanted to return the following session, but his parents encouraged him and he was so thankful that they did. it was during one of his early therapy sessions that he was shown that he could harness his creative abilities and use them as an outlet.

Now, though the anxiety has never completely vanished and thanks to his parents and his best friend, parties are just a common part of his life more of a nuisance now than an anxiety-provoking situation.

Having had wondered off for a bit, he finds Isabelle once again. She’s leaning against the railing of the stairs, looking over everyone. She’s no longer wearing her large black dress; instead, she’s in nothing but custom white and gold. Her hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders, crowned in a laurel leaf headpiece. It’s a weird, unsettling experience to see her just standing there with nobody around her, nobody paying special attention to her – which was exactly what her and Zach wanted apparently. Gabriel didn’t have enough practiced care to ask why they wanted to spend their big night apart.

“Are you looking for Zach?” he asks as he settles in next to her. He already knows the answer, but he wants her to acknowledge it before he gets to his real question. Which he, once again, already knows the answer to.

“No.”

“Are you looking for Noah?”

“No.” And it’s the same word, but it’s laced in differences that few people would notice. For starters, she responded a fraction quicker than when he asked about Zach and her tone was ever so slightly changed. She also has a tell in which she stands a little bit straighter, almost indignantly, when she’s lying.

“Then who are you looking for?” he prompts indulgently, following her gaze out below them. He hadn’t recognized anyone tonight, though he didn’t think he’d recognize any of them with their masks off either.

“I’m people watching.”

“You don’t watch people,” he says with an incredulous laugh, “people watch you.” He watches her rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile that tugs at her now gold, shining lips. “Here,” he says, extending his hand towards her. He’d almost forgotten that some very drunk, very high, group he passed through had handed him one of their joints that they were passing around.

Isabelle blinks slowly at him, looking at his hand and then back up to him. Then, dismissively, “I don’t know where that’s been, whose lips it’s touched, or what’s in it.”

“Oh, come on,” he says with a smile, laughter bubbling out of him. “It’s not laced or anything, I’ve already had some and I’m perfectly fine.” As if to prove his point, his places it between his lips and takes a long drag from it, watching Isabelle narrow her eyes at him. He hands it to her, as if challenging her. She rolls her eyes exasperatedly, muttering under her breath about something before she takes a hit from it.

Isabelle falls into a coughing fit almost instantly, making a face of regret as she hands it back to him. It mixes with his own laughter as he takes it from her hand, causing people around them to watch them. As he recovers from his hysterics, Isabelle muttering under her breath about how much she hates him and is going to kill him, he hands it off to someone else walking by.

“I’m going to go find a room to trespass in” he finally says, but he doesn’t move just yet. Watches the way she nods and looks back into the crowd after saying something that was too low to hear over the sudden booming yelling and singing in reaction to a popular song. He uses his hand to turn her attention to her to him and leans in closely so that she can hear him. “He probably wants to see you as much as you want to see him,” he says honestly. “I’m just not sure if this is the right place for that.” He presses his lips to her forehead, squeezes her hand, and walks away, hoping she’ll take his advice, but knowing that she’s capable of her own decisions.

He knew the ins and outs of their relationship and how complicated it was. It was built on a friendship, which, in Isabelle’s own words, made it that much more special, but also made it that much harder when things went wrong. She told him one night that she wasn’t just losing the love that came from a relationship, but the love that came from a friendship.

Gabriel knew that Isabelle looked like the villain within her relationship with Noah. She was always the one to break it off, but always the one to welcome him back. He didn’t think anyone understood how much she loved Noah, how hard it was for her every time she ended things. They were always focused on Noah and that was fine, but it also meant they never saw how devastated she was every single time. They never saw her with mascara smudged around her eyes, almost hyperventilating as she tried to breathe through the tears. They never had to console her for sometimes seemingly never-ending weeks, because it was only with Gabriel when she allowed herself to fall apart. They didn’t know that, the first time they broke up, Isabelle almost dropped out of school to travel the world. That she had begged Gabe to come with her, that she could pay for everything, that she couldn’t be there anymore because it was too hard.

They didn’t realize that every time she took Noah back it wasn’t because she was playing with his feelings. It was because she wanted to be with him, because she was in love with him. It was just that as much as she wanted it to work, she knew it never would—they wanted different things. He never asked, but he thinks Zach gave her an opportunity to finalize their relationship in a way she never had before. That cutting it off with a practiced ruthlessness made it easier.

Gabriel’s been aimlessly wandering along one of the longer halls, hands trailing over doorknobs and occasionally trying to open them. Two of them were locked—which he thought was smart—and a few others were opened. Some were messy, a few were occupied. He just wanted somewhere where he could just wait out the party for a while, be by himself. It wasn’t until he opened a door that led to a surprisingly neat and well put together room that he decided to walk in and shut the door behind him.

It’s larger than the other rooms he had seen and it lingered with a scent that was all too familiar to him. Gabe doesn’t have time to really look around because his eyes almost immediately lock on a sketch that’s hanging above the desk. He feels his heart stutter softly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He walks towards it as if magnetically drawn to it. It’s accompanied by similar line art composed of a pinky promise and an even bigger painting, a beautifully constructed piece of art that would have had his full attention and appreciation if not for his own staring back at him.

His hand reaches out towards it, fingers brushing over the bottom left corner where he scrawled his signature two years ago. Gabriel had participated in the college’s art exhibit every year since freshman year, always submitting an art piece or two just to get out of his comfort zone and begin showing off his work. He never stayed by his own, never introduced himself as the artist to anyone viewing them; rather, he was content to walk around and enjoy everyone else’s. He had never expected, especially not his sophomore year, for the director to find him in the midst of it all and tell him that someone was looking to buy his work. It wasn’t something he even realized was a thing that people did or that was allowed, but he agreed, declining information about the buyer. Gabriel look at it almost like a closed adoption—whoever bought it was the new owner, it belonged to them and he didn’t need to know who that was.

As his gaze drops down to the framed pictures situated on the desk, he wishes it would have stayed a secret.

Zachary Easton’s stupid, perfect smile looks back at him and he finally recognizes the scent as Isabelle’s perfume and he wonders somehow if he just walked into a nightmare. His brain tries to tell him that he could have bought the painting as a result of Isabelle’s insistence, but they weren’t even dating at the time and—

Gabe honestly doesn’t understand what he was supposed to do with this information. How he’s supposed to react to something so intimately his being hung up in the room of someone he despises and who also knows that his eyes are blue.

He thinks about leaving, because he’s feeling a bit overwhelmed, but his curiosity causes him to stay. He hates to admit it to even himself, but he doesn’t exactly know a whole lot about Zach except what Isabelle’s supplied him with and that he’s the son of a politician and by definition the exact kind of person Gabe didn’t want anything to do with. He’s spent his entire life trying to get away from that aspect of his family and the people who faked their way through conversations.

He walks over to the mirror, examines the pictures that decorate it. He doesn’t recognize some of the guys in the pictures, but he recognizes Christian and Isabelle, some of them from tonight, and those are the ones that cause him to smile. A betrayal that he sees in his reflection before moving to the bookcase where his focus catches on Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales. The addition was something else that doesn’t make sense in the way that historical and Shakespeare books that took home in his bookcase did.

Pulling the book out from the shelf, he sits down on the arm chair settled against the foot of the bed and starts skimming. Gabriel hopes it will not only pass the time, but distract him from all of the thoughts and confusion swirling around in his head.

#muse: gabriel parks #thread: gabe x zach #masq #masq: gxz #me? only using that gif bc it has greek god vibes? absolutely

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shefightslikeagirl · 4 years

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CORSETS AND STRIPED STOCKINGS: OUTFITTING THE ASYLUM FOR WAYWARD VICTORIAN GIRLS by She Fights Like A Girl

These articles are best viewed on desktop, but are mobile friendly. Please excuse any strange formatting on your phone browser or the Tumblr app.

This article was longer than intended and image-heavy, so it’s been split into two parts.

PART V: AN ASYLUM MUSICAL

“And if I end up with blood on my hands, Well, I know that you’ll understand ‘Cause I fight like a girl.” - Fight Like A Girl (2014)

And now we're back to the relatively recent past, when this blog was in its infancy and the fandom couldn't decide whether to stick with the forum or run rampant on Tumblr. Fight Like A Girl (the album) was still being recorded, but Emilie did a few live dates Down Under and decided to feature the title song from the unfinished album.

To my understanding, the Harvest Festival was another one of those concerts where the show was considerably downsized because of the cost of shipping props and set pieces. But where the South American tours hadn’t pulled back in the wardrobe department, the Harvest festival did. Emilie and the Crumpets performed in one costume for the entire set. But to make up for the lack of glam, EA debuted the first costume of the FLAG era.

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This costume was worn for the cover art of Fight Like A Girl, and acted as the signature corset for the very first Fight Like A Girl World Tour (2012).

“Asylum Secrets: All of my costumes over the years have been made to look as though someone had been murdered in them and come back from the dead to enact a fabulous revenge. To achieve this, I have employed techniques from melting fabrics with an industrial strength heat gun to spraying them with solutions that no human should ever breathe. In the case of the corset pictured, I burned it mercilessly with sticks of incense before painting the fabric to make it look moth-eaten.” - EA on the creation of the FLAG corset (June 25, 2018)

Speaking of the 2012 FLAG World Tour! While there were a lot of changes from The Door Tour and Harvest Festival, this tour is probably best remembered as a transition phase between eras. There were new costumes, but… the Rat Queen still introduced the show with 4 o’Clock. There were new set dressings, but… the shadow scrim was still main stage center. The new corset was mixed in with the Rat Queen ensemble and the structure of the show hadn’t changed terribly. New, but… kinda not?

Except for that Warrior Mohawk, of course.

Upper: WVC content / eBay listing photo. Lower: Making of the Warrior Mohawk from Emilie’s Flickr account.

This is the only tour where Emile wore a mohawk for the entirety(-slash-majority) of the show. Later concerts would see her removing it after the third song. There was some slight skepticism in the fandom with its debut, sparking discourse about everything from cultural appropriation to thematic relevance, but EA didn’t make much comment on the criticism.

“[The Warrior Mohawk] signified the transformation from victim to warrior. I feel that it is important for me to let go in order that I may go on to transform yet again and create new bits of wearable magic to surprise you with... This headpiece symbolized the birth of a new era in the Asylum…. This is the headdress of a tribal Queen…” - EA, 2012 eBay auction description.

“The Mohawk headdress represents the tribal, wild element of the sisterhood that formed during the imprisonment of the inmates, and shows that, once we escape and are on the rampage to take down our oppressors, we have indeed transformed from individual, helpless victims into a strong and beautifully terrifying tribal warriors.” - EA for Natalie’s World, 2013 (x) (x)

Another costume that debuted on this tour was the MC of the Ophelia Gallery, who had his own brand-new number: Girls! Girls! Girls!

And as for its history...

(My best guess is that this photo originated in 2009, based on her hair.)

This character is a hint at the structure of the tour (and album) to come, where it would be less about the mad girls existing inside the Asylum and more about the story of how they got there, and what happened once they were interned. Allow me to stray from the costuming topic for just a moment…

A TANGENT: OF STAGE SHOWS AND ASYLUM CONTINUITY Spoiler filled ramblings of a long-time fan.

I’ve got a running theory that The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, in all its forms, runs in parallel to the concerts. But they match each other in reverse. [Spoilers for the book to follow.]

Emilie’s first concert of the Opheliac brand was in a small venue in Chicago, alongside Lady Joo Hee. In The Asylum… book, Emily-with-a-y’s final days in the Asylum were spent with Sachiko (a character based on and formerly named Joo Hee).

The Opheliac shows of 2007-2011 were all about the women in an Asylum singing songs and welcoming others home. Cannibals, ballerinas, pyrate captains, nymphomanics -- they all ran rampant with no apparent oversight except from Emilie herself. Rats crept and crawled onstage unbothered; toys, crumpets, and cupcakes were in abundance, often served alongside “tea,” and there isn’t a single cell door in sight.

Especially in the earliest days of the concerts, the set design had an emphasis on appearing hand-made -- not only because it was, but because it should be for these girls. This was the world EA branded for herself: a world of freedom, without judgement, earned by their own hands.

In The Asylum… book, after the Inmates take over and kill the doctors, this is very much what they do: impersonate medical professionals and welcome sick and not-so-sick girls home to protect them, nurture them, and give them the best life that the Victorian Age fails to do. They take over the Asylum and make it their own.

Then in the FLAG performances (2012-2014), the storytelling shifts. EA’s Asylum world is no longer loosely themed with inmates running amok, but adheres to a more rigid storytelling structure, detailing the struggles and despair of the girls locked up in The Asylum(-with-a-capital-T). It mirrors the bulk of the content in The Asylum… book. The carefree, whimsical stage dressings shift to bars -- a representation of the cells and gates in The Asylum. There might be a bear tied to a dreary grey harpsichord; you might even see a single rat scratching about. But they don’t have dominion here. There’s no freedom. Just the story of the girls trapped behind the bars.

And now we’re stalled on both sides of the street. We’ve met in the middle. The concerts started at the end of the book, and ended at the beginning.

Ok, I’ll put my soapbox away. Let’s get back on track.

BACK TO BUSINESS

Where were we?

Oh, yes: Girls! Girls! Girls! and new costumes.

So let’s jump forward a little more, because there isn’t much else to say about Emilie’s costume style in the 2012 FLAG World Tour. Moving on to the 2013 Fight Like A Girl: North American Tour (and following European and Australian tours), a brand new show was brought to the stage. Full new stage set-up, new costumes, and a full new setlist.

A costume I’ll be referring to as the “armored corset” replaced the moth-eaten FLAG ensemble in the opening number. Both Maggots and Veronica were given new costumes as well, replacing the costumes they had worn for years.

Armored Corset, with varying amounts of sparkled (2013)

Maggie Lally; Captain Maggot / Captain Maggots

Veronica Varlow; The Naughty Veronica

The show design of this tour had Emilie in the armored corset with the mohawk for the two opening numbers, Fight Like A Girl and Time for Tea. The mohawk and the armored plates on her chest and hip were removed during the 4 o’Clock Reprise, leaving her without her armor for What Will I Remember? as the narrative moves back to the beginning of the story, before the “Uprising.”

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On the subject of the corset: structurally, it was outfitted with snaps to attach the armor and allow for easy removal (see corset detail above, bottom right). The mohawk proved a more difficult challenge to remove, as it was securely clipped, pinned, and secured into EA’s hair. This ended up being corrected in the redesign that produced Mohawk 2.0.

Back to the show! By the time we get to Veronica’s Dominant fan dance, EA has removed the armor corset completely in the interim to prepare for the Girls! Girls! Girls! costume change. After Scavenger, the entire cast changes into Asylum Inmate Rags to perform Gaslight and The Key, and then changes back into full costume for the finale. Emilie wears the full FLAG ensemble from previous tours to close out the show, with varying headdresses.

But I’m skipping over something important.

The Scavenger.

Inspired by Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal, The Scavenger, a vulture-esque representation of Dr. Greavsely, appeared onstage for Scavenger.

“This is the start of the original costume @maggotmagpie wears in our show, the one Greavesly wears in #AsylumMusical will be bonkers…” - EA on the Scavenger (February 7, 2016)

EA on Twitter/Twitpic 2012 (x)

The Scavenger was usually worn by Maggots as part of a stilt-walking performance, but if the venue couldn’t or wouldn’t allow for stunts onstage, Emilie would appear alone in the costume for the number.

Scavenger has plenty of different “shows” (A show, B show, and C show for my theme park friends), with “A Show” being Captain Maggot on stilts.

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Note: The Atlanta show featured here is a bit strange, as it uses the Stage Screen and the Asylum Bars during a tour that doesn’t feature the former. Emilie also isn’t in the normal costume for this number, using a personal scarf to cover her bloomers and bra.

“B Show” would be Emilie performing as the Scavenger, due to venue restrictions. This was actually the way Scavenger debuted, until Maggot’s first performance later in the tour. (See pictures and even more info here.)

“C Show” would be Moth’s performance in the final set of Fight Like A Girl tours, as seen below:

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(There’s also “D Show,” (ha) which is this random dude performing as The Scavenger. I’ve yet to figure this out, but my guess is it was a technician stepping in at the last moment or a friend of EA from Oakland.)

Last, but not least, are the Asylum Rags. You’d think there wouldn’t be much to say here, but there is. Click on the continue link below to learn more about tattered costumes and the rest of the FLAG era, because Tumblr only allows 10 pictures per post.

CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE.

Fly back… PART I: Enchant and the Faerie Queene PART II: Drowning Ophelia PART III: Vecona, Seamstress of the Asylum PART IV: Wayward Victorian Girls

Remember to visit Part III and enter our giveaway! Ends 12/1/19.

[SEE ALL CREDITS AND SOURCES HERE.]

#this ones a long one folks #happy thanksgiving #emilie autumn #corsets and striped stockings #EA wardrobe #flag #sflag #link out to btp

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coeval-magazine · 5 years

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The Witch Twins

Transmitted from a college dorm room, Robi and Alen Predanič use performance art to create “mysterious VHS tapes you find in the attic of the old house you have just moved in to”.

Let’s start by you introducing yourselves and how you started working together Alen: We are Robi and Alen Predanič aka The Witch Twins and we are from Slovenia. We are twins, 25 years old and we’ve been living in the same college dorm room for five years. This is where we created our own world. We make our own surreal, eccentric and colourful costumes and perform and pose in them, usually in our dorm room. I mostly shoot and edit the photos and Robi focuses on recording and editing the videos. When we’re finished we post it on Instagram. Robi went to college one year before me. We started listening to a lot of music from the 60s and 70s. We loved the warmness of the sound and visuals of the era. Inspired by that and other stuff like Harry Potter, we transformed our totally white room into a warm, psychedelic looking place. Throughout our childhood we were always in our bubble, creating something and escaping from real life.

Robi: We don’t take life very seriously and we like to challenge man-made social constructs such as gender norms. Two years ago, we came out. Shortly after, we started watching RuPaul’s Drag Race and because of that show we were inspired to experiment with wigs and DIY clothes. Our dorm room really played an important role in all of this, because it represented (and it still does) a safe, cosy and magical place where we could be authentic and creative. We actually used to dress up in women’s clothes when we were in kindergarten and when we were home alone. We stopped, because we realised that boys were not supposed to dress like that. Through the years we used to be terribly embarrassedabout our ‘weird’ past and our sexuality. It’s really liberating that the same thing that used to be such a burden, now makes us happy and proud.

What made you choose the medium of performance art to concentrate on? Robi: The reason I filmed myself in the first place was because of the cool VHS phone app. I realised I am comfortable in front of the camera while I’m in drag… it feels very natural to me. When I perform, I naturally gravitate towards randomness, humour and exaggeration. There are no rules in performance art, and I like that. Nobody is limiting me, I can express myself how I want to without being afraid of making mistakes.

Alen: Robi once asked me to join him in one of his videos. It was fun and it naturally became our thing. We also started doing photoshoots together. Performance art is not something that I was originally interested in, but it has become something that allows my costumes and fantasy to come to life.

Your work together has a very distinct aesthetic. How did this evolve? Alen: We both like to be dramatic and ‘’larger than life’’. We are expressing ourselves freely and we just do whatever feels natural. Renovation of our dorm room has helped us to figure out our aesthetic. We developed a colour palette that was very 60s and 70s inspired and we customised everything in the room accordingly, it came out psychedelic, and colourful. We continued that vibe with our costumes, videos and photos. When we buy fabrics for our costumes, we like them to have interesting textures and beautiful colours. Right now, we are into looking like trippy life size toys - colourful and not too complex. We also like to believe that we are undercover aliens hiding our big alien heads underneath our headpieces. We both love dramatic silhouettes and big headpieces.

Robi: When it comes to our drag, we like unusual combinations. If we feel like combining facial hair with long painted nails or a short skirt with a headscarf, we just do it. I enjoy making genderless creatures. I like to make my hips, shoulders, “hair” and accessories big. I like to transform myself; to create the most fabulous version of myself and confuse people in the best way possible… When I edit the videos, I like to combine footage of us with the footage of mysterious buildings and beautiful nature. The videos we make can be described as mysterious VHS tapes you find in the attic of the old house you had just moved in.

I interpret your work as very spiritual. Is spirituality something that’s important or influential to you as individuals and/or your work? Robi:I love combining art and spirituality, because that’s the way to make meaningful art. I think by being authentically and fearlessly ourselves we send a message that is very much spiritual. I like my work to radiate a peaceful vibe and we do that through music we use in our videos for example. We also include messages of peace and love in our work by using symbols such as heart, sun and flower in our costumes, videos and dorm room décor. The warm edit of the pictures and the videos adds to the welcoming and peaceful fantasy, as well. My work is also spiritual for me, because it feeds my soul. I really enjoy what I do.

Alen: I love spirituality. I am determined to fulfil the highest and truest expression of myself and I know I can do that through art.

What has made you label yourself as a witch? Can you tell me a bit about this side of your creativity and how/if this influences your work as a duo? Alen: Witches fit perfectly in a great fantasy. I’ve always loved witches. We both love magic, mysterious things and places. For me, a witch represents that. I often do magic and fly on a broom when I sleep, in my dreams and I love it. Not to mention, that when we were about 8 years old, we used to believe that we were magicians. We made a secret alphabet, special objects and we performed special rituals.

Robi: We naturally adopted this label, but we don’t take the label very seriously. We also sometimes say that we’re aliens. We love creating fantasies and by labelling ourselves as witches or aliens we do just that. A witch also represents a metaphor for an unconventional person. We are modern day witches in that sense.

You use very pronounced, textural silhouettes and there is a strong sense of fantasy through theatre. A visualisation of your combined imaginations maybe... can you introduce us to this alternative world you have created? What feeds this? Robi: We are very compatible when it comes to working together creatively. Our work is heavily influenced by movies with exquisite fantasy worlds. Such worlds are mysterious, dreamy, magical and visually stunning. They consist of trippy characters, stunning costumes, detailed set designs, mysterious places and soul touching music. We’re talking about movies such as Shrek, Spirited Away, Alice in Wonderland, A Series of Unfortunate Events, The Wizard of Oz, Harry Potter, Charlie and The Chocolate Factory and Titanic. Also, horror movies such as The Ring and The Hills Have Eyes. I’m very inspired by operas and musicals as well, because of the dramatic body movements and the dramatic vibe.

Alen: Yes, what we do in the videos and the photos is visualisation of our combined imaginations. A lot of stuff that inspires our world is from our childhood. From a young age we were very aware of beautiful and magical things that surrounded us. Our kindergarten teachers were very creative and really made sure that we experienced a lot of magical moments. We were also encouraged to be creative by our grandma. Her house was always well decorated and we used to draw, make jewellery and decorative napkins from paper when we were at her house. We loved fantasy and magic and we still love it as much as we used to when we were kids. Major influence from many years ago are sticker albums and beautiful illustrations from children’s books.

When it comes to forming new concepts or beginning a new creative venture, how do you normally begin? Alen: We usually start with a colour palette, or with ideas about our headpieces. We then draw a sketch of the full costume. Sometimes we have a concept about the universe our costumes and characters come from, but most of the time, each of us just does our own thing and at the end it works out.

Can you tell us anything about what you’re working on right now? Robi: I am making a music video for an artist. We will soon start working on some of our last costumes in our college years era. We are moving out in three months.

Alen: I am working on my music. I am also a singer and I’m looking forward to finally sharing my music. We are also working on prints of our work.

What does the future hold, where would you like to see your work in 5 years? Robi: I want to continue filming with my phone app and make costumes and short movies. I’m also interested in performing live. Alen and I want to make an exhibition and publish a picture book of our work.

Alen: I definitely see myself on stage, singing in crazy outfits. Robi and I will continue to collaborate creatively on different things, because we love to work together.

courtesy ALEN PREDANIC and ROBI PREDANIC

@alenpredanic

@robipredanic

words KATE KIDNEY BISHOP

@sashasadies

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#alenpredanic #robipredanic

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kiruuuuu · 6 years

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Stuck in rarepair hell? I know that feeling, @legokay :) All of those are my favourite boys, so choosing wasn’t easy but I ended up going with Glaz/Echo, extra fluffy for you ❤❤ (Rating T, fluff fluff fluff, ~1.5k words)

“Right in the dick”, Echo announces gleefully, followed by a snort, “that dude’s not gonna breed anymore, that’s for sure, but he’ll be hella pissed at you and shattered balls might not be enough of a distraction to take out the guy who ruined his family jewels.”

“You’re unbelievable”, Glaz replies with a shake of his head but can’t help his smile. He’s reloading now and glancing up at the Japanese man stumbling about next to him, large VR glasses hiding half his face. They’re messing about after Glaz mentioned wanting to practise very long range shots – normally, it’s a quiet and boring affair, because even if someone’s assisting him, they’re all the way over by the target dummies to inform him of his accuracy. Echo, however, offered to pilot one of his aerial drones to check where Glaz’ shots hit: that way, he’s not going to be bored to death and Echo can practise flying his drones in virtual reality with the help of the 360° cam he installed on it.

With how competently Echo is navigating his drone after even bragging of being on par with actual drone flying competitions, Glaz somehow doubts he needs the practise but since this means Echo is choosing to keep him company, he’s not complaining. He’s lying on the floor and aiming downhill while Echo is excitedly dancing around, nearly falling over the cables coming from the small building next to them and tripping over the uneven ground now and then. So far, he’s managed not to actually eat shit but it seems to be a matter of when and not if.

“And boom. You’re dead. The neutered counter-sniper has taken revenge for his nutsack. You were too slow, Glaz, game over, try again. Maybe next time express your disdain for toxic masculinity in your free time and not on the job or I’ll get your brain jelly all over my shoes again.” The words are accompanied by animated gestures and Echo moving further and further away without realising. Something about piloting his drones always puts him in high spirits, has him turn off his verbal filter and leaves him excited enough to not care about potentially embarrassing himself. Glaz has witnessed it a few times in his own presence but not with anyone else – and he’d like to think that his colleague (and friend?) trusts him enough to show him this side of his personality voluntarily.

“You’re nowhere near me anyway, watch where you’re walking”, Glaz points out, amused, and takes aim once again as Echo cautiously steps towards his voice and stretches one of his legs to prod him in the side with the tip of his shoe. Moving out of the way is too easy and so the older man nearly loses his balance yet again. “I’m going to shoot the second one on the left right in the head.”

“So that means you’ll hit the one on the right directly in his kidneys. He needed those, Glaz, now he has to get dialysis for the rest of his life. Maybe he would’ve donated one of them! Congratulations, you just killed an innocent child who would’ve received a bad guy’s kidney to -” Wordlessly, Glaz moves the barrel up until it’s pointing directly below the tiny drone hovering in the distance and takes the shot. “Whoa, hey, did you just – how dare you!”

“Your little electrical mosquito better fly for its life”, Glaz announces with a grin and shoots again, still not aiming at the drone directly.

“Ha, with how rotten your aim is today, you couldn’t hit it even if you tried.”

The sniper takes this as a challenge and is about to actually fire at the device when Echo lightly kicks his arm to throw off his aim while starting to undertake evasive manoeuvres both himself and with his drone. They’re both trying to interfere with each other now, nudging and shoving until Glaz sets his rifle aside, trips him and sits down on his midsection facing his legs and starting to giggle when Echo remorselessly slaps his ass to get rid of him. They playfight some more, both laughing now and wrestling for the remote – Echo trying to not let it fall into Glaz’ hands and Glaz simply pushing the sticks wildly in an attempt to make Echo nauseous. The Russian is in an undoubtedly better position as he can actually see what’s happening while Echo blindly flails at him.

“Okay, okay, how about a truce?”, Echo suggests when Glaz has him pinned down and unable to move. “We call this a tie and I’ll let you fly my drone for a bit.”

Glaz can’t remember him ever allowing anyone to pilot any of his drones, not even Twitch who probably understands them best right after Echo himself, so he agrees readily and releases the Japanese man from his grip, half expecting him to take back the offer and continue the fight, but he pulls through. Glaz helps him get up and then listens patiently as Echo explains to him how the remote works and that he’d best stay high in the air to avoid any danger of collision. Then Echo puts the heavy VR glasses on his head and Glaz’ knees go weak.

The first sensation is falling because he’s suddenly so high up without any sort of safety measure that his body panics – all that his eyes are telling him is that he’s flying, hanging in the sky hundreds of metres above the ground. Being able to look around and see nothing that conflicts with this notion is extremely disorienting, and while he flinches when Echo wraps his fingers around his upper arm, he’s grateful for the supportive touch. It’s almost dreamlike, so unlike anything Glaz has experienced first hand that all he can do is move his head, turn around and marvel at the sight, at the feeling of being the drone. Simple 2D screens can never compare to this, can’t rival the sensation of being able to look around seamlessly.

“You know what, let’s go inside. I can watch the monitor to see where you’re going.” Echo removes the headpiece again and drags him into the building before putting it back on, allowing Glaz back into that endless freedom. “Try moving, like this.” Echo pushes one of the sticks in a direction and Glaz nearly stumbles and falls at the unexpected movement – it’s as if someone else had taken control of his body, an unreal and strange feeling. “Okay, it’s probably better if you do it, I don’t want you to throw up.”

“Can you – can you hold me? Somehow? I think that helps.” Glaz hasn’t seen any chairs around in the barren room and doesn’t want to sit on the ground as it would limit his movement.

A short pause, then Echo says: “Alright.” His hands come to rest on Glaz’ hips and the touch is reassuring, especially together with sensing Echo’s body right behind his. “Go on, move. I wouldn’t fly over the base but you can see some more of the countryside.”

And so Glaz begins his flight. The conflicting sensation of standing in place yet simultaneously soaring through the sky is upsetting his stomach a little but Echo’s presence helps. He learns the controls slowly as he doesn’t share Echo’s affinity to delicate tech, but the whole experience is mind-blowing nonetheless, the view is stunning and makes him want to paint it, paint the world like a bird might see it, roads weaving through the fields, houses no more than specks of colours and steep hills reduced to a gentle incline. He notices his cheeks are hurting and realises he’s been smiling in awe non-stop. “This is absolutely breathtaking”, he says quietly and Echo huffs a soft laugh.

“Isn’t it?” He sounds proud. “Let me do some tricks.” Warm hands slide over Glaz’ and take over, Echo has to step closer for it, press himself against Glaz’ back as he uses both of their fingers to pilot the drone so that Glaz isn’t surprised by sudden movement. it’s like riding a rollercoaster while standing still, a cheerful laugh bubbles up in Glaz’ throat as he’s made to do flips and a variety of other manoeuvres during which he has to lean into Echo as to not lose his balance. When it stops, he’s giddy and light-headed and finally understands why Echo gets so excited whenever he does this.

“Are you alright?”, Echo asks and withdraws his hands to wrap his arms around Glaz’ torso, hold him in a tight embrace that can’t only be friendly support. No. There’s more.

Glaz relaxes into the hug and smiles to himself, hoping Echo can’t see it. “Yeah.” And thinks: Now I am. He looks down where his feet aren’t, down at the English countryside which has never looked this beautiful to him and takes one hand off the remote to stroke over one of Echo’s arms. “Can we do this again sometime?”

#rainbow six siege #glaz #echo #glaz/echo #fanfic #oneshot #request #there's not enough echo content anyway #and they're all sweethearts

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rauliskafan · 6 years

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A Little Lesson in Royalty

Authors’ Note: Happy Tuesday, terrific readers!!! Did anyone else think that Violetta might want to watch the Royal Wedding??? @vintagemichelle91 and I sure did!!! Read on to find out what went down!!! Enjoy!!!

“Papi? Papi?”

Turning away from Natalia, blinking a few times so his eyes could adjust to the dim light, Rafael slowly made out the form of Violetta standing beside the bed.

“Muñequita?” he asked through a yawn as he ran one hand over his face. “Are you alright?”

“Course I alright, Papi!” she assured him. “Why would you think I not?”

Shaking his head and sitting up slowly, Rafael looked to his alarm clock. Four o’clock? Could that be right?

“Violetta,” he started, trying to keep his voice low at the sound of Natalia stirring within the sheets. “Do you see how early it is?”

“Was no problem getting me up all early when you wanted to make egg soup,” Violetta challenged, and he bit down on his lip. The poor attempt at poached eggs and the would-be Mother’s Day breakfast was best left forgotten.

“True,” he had to agree, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “But why are you---?” His speech stopped short, and he flicked on the nearest lamp, his eyes now clearly making out his daughter in all her…

“Violetta, what are you wearing?”

Was this a dream? How else to explain the little girl in a lace skirt adorned with pink hearts, a garment usually reserved for her days of dress up? The sequined top was a new touch and… was that one of the twins’ blankets? Made to look like a cape? And what of the feathers and faux flowers piled so high atop her head?

“Violetta…?”

Gently taking hold of her shoulders, Rafael narrowed his eyes and examined the attempt at a makeover. No doubt she had made her way into her mother’s blushes and eye shadows. Smiling a little despite the early hour, he felt that Natalia should see this style best described as clown-chic when the mattress shifted

“Is something wrong?” Natalia murmured, stretching up slowly, blinking quicker and letting out a little laugh when she saw their daughter.

“Oh, sweet pea!” she said. “What did you do?”

“My question exactly,” Rafael replied with another yawn as he leaned back to peck his wife’s cheek. “Morning.”

“So early in the morning,” Natalia said, scooting a little closer to his side. “Violetta. You’re certainly… fancy.”

Spying Natalia out of the corner of his eye, they shared an amused glance. Rafael raised his shoulders and started to speak when Violetta let out a heavy sigh.

“Mami, Papi, please don’t tell me that you forget what day this is.”

Again, Rafael simply shrugged, the hour too early to remember much of anything when Natalia let out a small cry and clapped her hands together.

“Of course,” she started. “We said we’d watch the wedding!”

“Wedding?” Rafael echoed. “Who’s getting hitched?”

“Papi, it’s the prince and the girl from the lawyer show. The one you call impossible.”

“Think the word was improbable, muñequita,” he corrected her.

“Atticus, don’t be such a killjoy,” Natalia said. He relaxed into the feel of her fingers sketching soothing circles into his back. But still he arched one eyebrow.

“Like there’s any way that kid would be allowed to pass the bar let alone practice after the stunt he pulled,” Rafael argued.

“It’s all artfully done,” Natalia fired back. “And there’s nothing wrong with losing yourself in a flight of fancy now and then.”

“I still say that---”

“Can you please talk about whether or not you understand the TV show later!” Violetta exclaimed, jumping up a bit and causing the flowers and feathers on her head to nearly topple over. Natalia reached forward first to steady the creation before cupping Violetta’s chin in her hand.

“Sweet pea, we are more than happy to watch the wedding with you,” Natalia began. “But all anyone’s going to be doing is arriving for the next few hours. We didn’t need to get up this early for that.”

“But… but I don’t want to miss any of it,” Violetta said, her little lip trembling ever so slightly. “I… I got all dressed up.”

That explained the cape and the skirt and the sparkles. Even her heavily painted cheeks… which Natalia took some steps towards remedying by plucking a tissue from the box so that the rouge was not so fiery, the lips not quite so shiny.

But as for the hat…?

“I… I made a fascination and everything!” Violetta declared, on the verge of total tears when Rafael realized what she was saying and pulled her onto his lap.

“It’s called a fascinator, muñequita,” he said. “Long-storied piece of head wear. Although these days it’s really just a clip and---”

Going quiet when he saw Natalia’s soft glare and heard the click of her tongue, Rafael nodded his head and lifted Violetta’s sorrowful face with one finger.

“And yours is the most beautiful one that I’ve ever seen,” Rafael assured her with a quick kiss to her temple. “Tell you what; how about you let Mami wash you face and then we can all get into bed and watch the bride and groom and all the rest. Deal?”

He offered his hand and totally expected her shake when she leaped from his lap and hauled a mass of pink plush wearing the twins’ other blanket and her own headpiece into the room, a few strands of costume beads twirled tight around each stuffed ear and descending downward.

“Harold gets to watch, too!” Violetta squealed as she helped her hippo friend to the bed… and settled her against Rafael’s pillow.

“Okay!” she continued. “I let Mami wash me up, and then we do this thing!”

Laughing again, Natalia carried Violetta to the bathroom as Rafael fell back to the bed and locked eyes with Harold’s dark, shiny pupils.

“Were you on board with all this?” he asked, letting one strand of beads fall between his fingers. Even as Harold said nothing, Rafael still took pity on the hippo and freed her ears, letting the beads come to rest around her neck as he patted her face.

“That has to feel better,” he said. “Remind me to never get your best friend a puppy.” He tilted Harold’s head forward and then back again as Violetta emerged, her face scrubbed clean, and her fascinator far more firmly pinned into place.

“I do feel better, Papi!” Violetta said as she hopped up on the bed. “How do I look?”

“Pretty as a princess,” Rafael said, cuddling her close as he looked to Natalia and extended his free arm.

“Mami?” he said. “Come back to bed.”

“No,” Natalia said. “Not just yet.”

“What? Where are you going?” Rafael asked.

“To peek in on the twins and put some coffee on,” she said with a wink. “Like you don’t need a cup, Atticus.”

He couldn’t argue with that and mouthed a silent thank you when Violetta bolted from his arms and stood tall at the foot of the bed.

“Mami!”

“Yes, sweet pea?”

“You got anything English for breakfast?” Violetta asked.

Rafael watched his wife search her mind for several seconds before she snapped her fingers.

“Just the thing,” Natalia promised with a kiss. “Go. Watch the wedding with Papi.”

Doing as she was told, Violetta scampered back to Rafael’s arms and snuggled into him as they saw quaint streets of far-off shores lined with well-wishers. Never before had Rafael recalled a sun so brilliant beaming in a British sky, and the crowd several people deep waved flags of the empires from both sides of the pond as well as handmade signs in honor of the happy couple.

“Muñequita?” Rafael asked his suddenly silent daughter. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, she sat up a little straighter to stare at the screen.

“It nice how people like them so much,” Violetta said. “It cause everyone knows they be in love forever.”

He was about to explain how it all could go the other way when Natalia returned with a tray carrying a pot of coffee and a plate of…

“English muffins?” Rafael asked, even as his stomach growled when he saw the butter and jam so prettily arranged off to the side of the largest plate.

“I think it fits,” Natalia said, crinkling her nose near to his as she settled back into the bed and handed Violetta a helping of nooks and crannies adorned with raspberry preserves. “Sweet pea?”

Violetta made a feast of the improvised treat and pressed the second half close to Harold’s snout. Only then did she pat her tummy at the top of her fancy skirt.

“Amazing, Mami!” Violetta said. “You got it just right!”

Unable to disagree, Rafael took a bite of the bits that Harold missed and sipped some coffee before winding one arm around Natalia’s waist as she sank into his hold.

“My father says that we Yanks get more excited about this every time than any card-carrying Brit,” Natalia said.

“Sounds like a bitter man whose name didn’t make its way to the invite list,” Rafael teased back, briefly kissing her lips and nuzzling her neck. A parade of celebrities passed across the screen, their hats of all shapes and sizes. Violetta pointed out her favorites to Harold. She was partial to the former talk show host with the wide brim and her own set of flowers and feathers.

“That one is lovely,” Natalia agreed. “But I like the girl in the dark green. It’s very elegant.”

Rafael focused on the statuesque blonde with the simple hat, her skirt adorned with a floral print.

“You just like the flowers,” Rafael teased as he nudged her side.

“Don’t you?” Natalia playfully challenged back, and he kissed her cheek, pulling her closer as the crowd inside the chapel continued to grow.

“This is taking a long time,” Violetta finally admitted with the littlest of yawns, and she inched back, letting her head fall into her mother’s lap.

“Mind your fascinator,” Rafael gently warned. But it seemed as if she would drift off, her effort to see every second about to fall flat when Natalia gasped.

“Sweet pea! There she is! Look!”

Like a shot, Violetta was up on her knees, and Rafael saw the bride in the backseat of a car, riding to her destiny.

“A boat neck,” Natalia whispered. “Oh, that is so haute couture.”

“What does that mean, Mami?” Violetta asked.

“High fashion,” Rafael answered, and Natalia laughed.

“What?” he challenged. “You’re surprised?”

“Of course not,” Natalia said. “You pulled that fascinator definition out pretty fast.” He smiled, and Violetta appeared to barely breathe as the car came to a stop. The bride emerged wearing a simple yet bold white frock with a sweeping train.

“She look like a princess!” Violetta declared, and Rafael started to speak when Ashtonja appeared at the door.

“Ash!”

“What’s going on?” the older girl asked.

“It’s the new princess!”

Rafael stopped himself from correcting his daughter that the bride was more likely bound to be a duchess as he waved Ashtonja forward and smiled when she took an English muffin and curled up at the foot of the bed.

“Pretty sure she’s going to be like a countess or something,” Ashtonja said, taking a quick bite of the extra early breakfast.

“That still spectacular!” Violetta said, and she pointed at the pint-sized flower girls following the trail of silk tulle. “Look how nice! Those girls all her best friends.”

“Why do you say that?” Rafael asked.

“Cause that what brides do, Papi,” Violetta said. “They pick only their best friends for the bridesmaids!”

And he couldn’t help but be enchanted by the idea that his daughter loved a lady who would pick her peers over everyone else in the world for such a big day.

“Guess her dad really didn’t show,” Ashtonja said when the Prince of Wales took the bride by the hand. Rafael was about to make a cutting comment, when Violetta patted her sister’s arm.

“Don’t worry, Ash. Papi be there for us when it our turn.”

The room suddenly seemed to grow dusty, and he leaned forward to kiss both girls, swallowing back his tears with a small smile.

“Better believe it,” Rafael promised. “But I hope you’re not planning for a wedding tomorrow.”

“Silly, Papi,” Violetta laughed. “I would have to live with the boy first!”

Pressing one hand over his mouth, Natalia shook her head, and the family watched the ceremony unfold in all its grandeur. From the music to the sermon, two worlds married into one, all wrapped in a bow proclaiming the power of love above all else.

As he looked away from the screen to the lovely ladies sitting so close, Rafael was incredibly inclined to agree with the sentiment.

“And now they get to go around in a coach!” Violetta yelped. “When I do get married, I want that.”

Natalia laughed and caught Rafael’s hair between her fingers when he tossed his head back.

“Better start saving those pennies now, Atticus,” she said. “Your princesas will all want their own royal weddings.”

Right on cue, the twins began to babble from the nursery, and Natalia started to stand when Ashtonja was on her feet.

“I got it,” she said.

“But, Ash, you---”

“I got to see the best parts,” Ashtonja said.

“Plus, it’ll be on replay all weekend,” Rafael stated.

“Exactly,” Ashtonja replied. Rafael couldn’t help but adore her practicality as she left the room that began to grow brighter. One of the horses along the royal route slightly misbehaved, and Violetta held her breath once more until the coverage finally came to an end, only to start over again in the promised loop.

“That sooo magical!” Violetta said with a contented sigh. Falling back with her arms spread wide, she fell into Harold’s belly and curled close to her hippo with a yawn.

“Sweet pea?” Natalia asked. “You want to sleep here for a little or---”

Before she could finish her thought, Violetta answered with the smallest snore, and Rafael just chuckled.

“What?” Natalia asked.

“Like mother, like daughter,” Rafael teased. Playfully slapping his arm, Natalia began to clean up the impromptu breakfast.

“Let me help,” he said. Together they worked in silence, leaving Violetta to her dreams of coaches and happily ever afters. They started towards the steps, stopping to see Ashtonja making baby talk with the twins. Only when they had the dishes and cups back in the kitchen did Rafael take Natalia into his arms.

“That first kiss will be hard to top,” she said.

“Don’t know about that,” he argued.

“Do you have an opposing argument, counselor?” Natalia sighed, stroking the stubble lining his face.

“So much better to show you.”

Meeting her mouth and savoring the feel of her warm body pressing against his, Rafael held her tightly and ran his fingers through her hair, delighting when she lightly raked her nails through his locks, and he happily gazed at her face in all its gorgeous glory.

“So, you’re not saying that you wouldn’t have rather ended up on the other side of I do with a princess?” Natalia asked.

“Duchess,” Rafael said, kissing her again. “Didn’t you hear them confirm it?”

“I did. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ll do it now. I ended up with the la princesa más hermosa.”

He pulled her close to kiss her again, but she stopped short of his lips.

“Do you still think that?” Natalia asked. “Even now that I’m an old married lady to rival the Queen?” Caressing her face and pressing his brow to hers, Rafael shook his head.

“I am so in love with you.”

Giggling, Natalia gave him another kiss, only leaving his touch to whisper close to his ear.

“You didn’t answer my other question,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Am I an old married lady now?” Natalia asked.

Lifting her into his arms and twirling her around the kitchen, Rafael was enchanted by the sound of her laughter before gently setting her down with a wink.

“Prove me wrong tonight, hermosa,” he challenged.

“I’ll do my best,” she promised. “As long as we can sneak in a nap beforehand.”

“Good idea,” he said, looking forward to simply settling back in bed with her by his side, the feel of her warm sighs on his neck and the smell of her hair forever signaling that he had the fairy tale that nothing and no one could ever touch. Forget duchesses or princesses; Natalia was the queen of every breath he took, every dream in his heart come true...

...royalty in every way.

Tagging: @thefanficfaerie @dreila03 @minidodds @mrsrafaelbarba @delia26@rafi-esparza @letty-o @lyssa1385@fortheloveofallthingsraul @mrschiltoncat @sweetsummertime99@obfuscateyummy@morbid-apricots@ullilalla@velveteenb5 @xemopeachx @ scarletrchilton

#raúl esparza #rafael barba #natalia barba #violetta barba #ashtonja abreu #a hard lesson series #little lessons #law & order: svu #svu fanfiction #royal wedding #royal wedding 2018

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eliotquillon · 3 years

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EP 4 RUNWAY YEEHAW

yvie: this reminds me of the puppet from fnaf HAHA it’s a very cute look i just wish her chest and arms were painted white too. i like the orange headpiece

plastique: i am SO SICK of her just attaching things to a corset. the butterfly wings are gorgeous and the corset is pretty (+ her hair and face is always right) but come on how does she keep getting away with this

rajah: i live for this tbh. i like the asymmetrical catsuit, the different shades of orange, and the short brown wig. just wish she was wearing boots

nina: UGH idk how i feel. theres nothing wrong with it i just think the bottom in particular w the bustle could be fuller, and her fan could have more feathers. the hair is beautiful though, the best wig she’s worn so far

scarlet: love her hair and jewellery, something about her brows feels a little off?? the fabric of her dress is gorgeous and i love the full skirt but something about it feels clunky (i think maybe the hoop attachment underneath should’ve been placed higher, or she shouldve had a tighter cinch). however it is SUPER impressive that she made it herself and that shade of orange looks beautiful on her.

akeria: i really dislike this. the orange of her jewellery clashes w the orange of her hair, the shoe is weird, and i think for an orange runway theme her dress should’ve had orange on it too instead of just relying on the wig. her face is beautiful but it’s one of the worst looks imo

silky: i really love this dress actually, and i like the way her jewellery matches the diamante details. gettin REAL SICK of this structured hair on her. i will say it’s the best her silhouette has looked since week 1 though

ariel: oof. the bodysuit reveal isnt anything special, i think maybe she should’ve worn a different hair colour. probably the first runway of hers that ive actively disliked

mercedes: maybe i’m biased because i hate this shade of neon orange but OOF. and the leotard is hardly even spangled....i like her headpiece and she looks beautiful as a blonde but it’s underwhelming. the best part of her oufit is the shoes.

vanjie: ANOTHER CORSET. i do like this shade of orange on her, and the streak of orange in her wig is cute. the showgirl headpiece is lovely too! i think i’d like it more if it wasn’t so similar to her other runways

brooke: i dont like the shade of orange that is her catsuit but i WANT that plastic-look coat and those lightning earrings. brooke looks so good with that short blonde hair. conflicted about the silver bootie though. i think it works better when she has the coat on than when she takes it off

shuga: okay i get it’s an “unconventional” take on orange but after a trump-themed challenge i didnt wanna see trump on the runway. dislike the black pumps. i appreciate the tie is sequinned tho

#top toot is brooke or silky #bottom is mercedes. again.#c vs s11

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izabelscreativeprojects · 3 years

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Reflections on 2020

I've been thinking about writing this for a few days now and there's been a lot on my mind. I've been reflecting on the past year, looking back at all the challenges I’ve overcome, the journey of self-discovery and changing my life for the better.

This time last year, I was severely depressed, and my anxiety was shooting through the roof. I felt like a failure for being unable to get a job, having to come back to live with my parents and things generally not working out for me. However, things started to shift after a few deep conversations with my best friend when I recognised that I had to change my mindset. Shortly after, I stopped taking the antidepressants and established a daily practice of meditation, self-care and breathing exercises. I slowly learnt to love myself for who I am, be proud of what I’ve achieved in life so far and stop beating myself up for things out of my control. When the pandemic started, I promised myself that I will use the time to work on myself, read the books focused on self-development and put these principles into practice. This experience has been truly life-changing.

I was able to beat my depression and anxiety by identifying the triggers and eliminating them, even if it meant dropping out of my masters degree for the time being. At first, I felt like I have failed not only myself but also my family who believed in me. But then, I was introduced to the concept of circumstances being neither good nor bad – simply accepting things as they are. And I started to live by it. Thanks to the pandemic, I recognised that now is not the right time for me to continue my studies and that I need to take a break and choose a different path (which I’m actively working on at the moment).

Another topic, I wanted to touch is appreciation. There was a time in summer when I was thinking about this concept for weeks. Why don’t we show appreciation to people who care about us, or perhaps to people that set us on the path to who we are today? I am so guilty of not showing appreciation myself, I often keep it hidden in my thoughts. I was thinking of a particular person from years ago - my art tutor who taught me all the basics. She taught me how to draw, paint and experiment with different materials. With her help, I drew an identical self-portrait at the age of 13 and had it displayed in a gallery (which was one my big dreams back then). I chose to dedicate my life to art thanks to her encouragement and knowledge she shared with me and I took my passion to university level. But does she know how far I’ve come thanks to her? No… because I’ve never told her how much influence her teaching had on me.

Around the same time as having these thoughts, I unconsciously became a receiver of this kind of appreciation. I was working on one of my projects and shared a few pics on Facebook. A day later I received a digital drawing of myself from my uni classmate Gabi (who I absolutely adore and admire as an artist and tattooist). We exchanged a few texts but what she said, resonated in me for weeks. “I love what you do, you always bring me inspiration”. She didn’t know about my mental health battle I was going through at the time, but that text gave a sense of purpose again. For the first time in a long time, I felt that my art isn’t just useless headpieces and boring sketchbooks, but I’m actually making an impact. So please if you think of someone who you truly appreciate, tell them because you never know how much it may mean to them.

Overall, I’m so grateful for how this year turned out, it’s been one of the best years I had in a long time. Even though, I didn’t get to do any creative photoshoots with my dream team this year due covid, I’ve been quietly working on my art and preparing for shoots and workshops next year. I’m also grateful for experiencing the journey of depression, anxiety and its recovery because it taught me important life lessons and helped me to find the inner peace and balance. I’m very thankful for having such caring friends, family and a loving boyfriend who has been there for me through the good and bad and makes my life so much better in every way. I feel blessed that I’ve got to celebrate New Year, knowing that I didn’t lose any of my loved ones and that everyone is in good health.

2021 will be filled with new challenges, new goals, progress and few setbacks but having the experiences and knowledge I’ve gained this year, I feel more ready than ever.

#reflections #thoughts #year2020 #journey #planning #challenge visionsfor2021

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lo-and-behold-ocelittle · 3 years

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“Horror Vacui” or the fear of the blank page [for amateur artists]

[A really long post]

If you fit this description, this post is for you:

I’m a hobby artist/writer/creator with a broad interest and I don’t have enough to time to practice any of my interests beyond the amateur level. Creating is something I commit to about 10 to 15 times a year - when I need help, I don’t want to take an online course, just give it to me quick and dirty and I’ll see to the turnover.

This post contains:

mandatory motivation delineation

step-by-step drawing guide for amateur artists by an amateur artist

all reference pictures for the above

tracing - a technique shunned by my Grade 8 art teacher and the last time I attended art class

cross-hatching and contours

a tiny bit of perspective

a bit of shading

tools

tips for shaky hands

Why this post, when the internet has countless of tips to overcoming writers’/artists’/creators’ block already?

I mean, Google churns out some 20 million search results in under 0.55 seconds! That’s like 10 search results you are might look at tops - 20 if you’re desperate enough to go to page 2 - and realize most of the tips a lot of work, not worth the trouble, things you’ve tried before, or too abstract to be applicable to the thing.

One thing most of these guides get right: getting started is the most crippling step of the creative process.

The most common advice to overcoming your block - so I have read countless times - is establishing a routine until you “instinctively” know how to achieve your goal. Are they wrong? No, definitely not. Is it good advice though? Depends; at least not for me - and if you’ve read this far, then not for you either.

What are my other options?

Planning. And being aware of all the tools at your disposal. I documented the process of this drawing as an example. This process has limited applicability to paintings.

You will need:

an idea

drawing utensils

paper (some scraps to start with)

patience

Step 1: Rough Sketching

Take scrap paper. Unless your documenting this (hi, mom) you’ll throw this away asap. Get down the rough shape. This may a while and will involve you questioning your sanity - barge through the doubt, don’t erase what you’ve made, use the best parts and try again.

Example:

I would like to draw a cat. I take a pencil and...

Lol, no. Cats are not pizza with ears.

Let’s try that again. Maybe a reference picture will help.

Much better. Start with some crude shapes but sketch out the entire body with shapes like they do in some drawing guides - only draw what you need. In this case about two and a half ovals are enough. Now make a better copy beside that initial sketch - I hate doing them on top of the first because that gets messy real quick. Draw some helping lines from the reference image. Don’t bother too much with proportions or posture, or going big; all these sketches are about 6 by 4 cm.

I want to draw a companion for this steampunk cat, about the same shape and posture with a head tilted one way and the torso another. She’ll need a proper headdress too - I went through three options visually and added some notes for other ideas I had in case neither of these worked out.

Step 2: Break it down

Break down the drawing into smaller bits and pieces and look up reference images if you need them.

I broke down my sketch into:

Head/Face

Torso/Clothes

Hat

Fan

The head

I want my cat to look slightly to the left and this is what I found online:

Not quite

Almost

Perfect

The torso

I found this image, which contained most of the parts I needed. I didn’t like the hat, head, fan, and all the mice scampering about ‘er so I just took the torso - the corset is really neat. Unfortunately, her posture is not quite what I need so that will be the biggest challenge for this body part.

The hat

I considered a few options such as this 1920s flapper’s headpiece and a couple of Victorian hats before settling on this one.

The fan

I own two so no reference image necessary.

You can keep a couple of tabs (or books, if you have some at hand) open in case you change your mind while drafting.

Step 3: Fine Sketching

This is the hardest part but if you’ve made it this far, you might as well go all the way, right? Understand how your brain operates and beat it at its own mind-game: create a sunk-cost-fallacy and drive yourself forward.

There three ways to get your fine sketch onto paper:

Cool, if you can pull it off go for it, usually takes the longest if you lack the practice (like I do)

Generally a good approach, especially when scaling up

Use a ruler to measure and plot key points of your outline

Print it and hold it against a window.

If it’s dark outside unhinge that glass cabinet door, duct tape it between two tables and put a lamp beneath.

Pull it up on your screen and adjust your zoom. Be careful with the pressure of your pen!

Use sticky tape to prevent it from slipping

(Below) Using a reference grid (the dots) on a canvas for another project.

(Below) Tracing the head. Slight rotation of the page to achieve the desired orientation of the head.

I also traced the torso and the head first. Then I added some rough shapes for the arms and the fan - this was also when I realized I can use the fan to hide parts of the face I don’t want to draw. Everything ended up a little twisted and short so I dashed lines where I want these limbs to go. The fabric of the corset also needs to be pulled up on the right and pushed down on the left, hence the arrow there. The neck is way too long too. Add some more notes of things you want to change - like adding a fuck-ton of flowers to the hat.

To judge whether the proportions make sense take a look at yourself in the mirror or ask random people in the hallway to pose for you - afterwards exchange a friendly, confused smile and move on.

(Below) First fine draft after about 5 hours of intermittent work - just take breaks when you’re bored, but leave it prominently lying in your way so you don’t forget about it. I reconstructed the arms’ outlines and added some bold comments.

Once you have everything you need, clean up your first draft as much as possible by erasing help lines and drawing strong borders. Next, open something bright on your screen (or whatever your tracing equipment happens to be), tape a blank paper to your first sketch and take down all the details you want to keep. You can move the paper around to shorten or elongate distances.

Add borders if you want to frame the drawing later.

Now change all the things you don’t like. I changed the cat lady’s hat to be less round because I didn’t want her to wear a wide-brimmed bowler and added a fuck-ton of flowers and - for good measure - a feather. If you can’t draw the feather flicking back up like me, hide it behind the brim of the hat.

Think about any fur you want interacting with the fabric (hat or collar). I added one curl to flow down the left side of her collar - didn’t really work out but A for effort.

Add any major decorative elements like the fish on her corset or the patterns on her fan.

Add major textures like the lines on the brim of her straw hat. The dotted texture on her sleeve was way too fine and didn’t carry over to the next tracing. The same goes for the shading from the last draft, which didn’t carry over well and I ended up bundling all the fur together in larger bundles.

Save the puffy shoulders for last (because I had no idea what to do there and eventually opted for “brains”).

(Below) About 90 minutes on the face to compartmentalize all strands of fur into proper bundles. Note six key bushels that define her expression: on both side of her nose, her “eyebrows” and the trailing of her eyes. Look up cartoon cats for help. 2 hours on her torso and another hour on her shoulders.

Clean it up again and judge your work. If you are still unhappy with the positioning, do another tracing. Don’t forget to embolden all important features

Step 4: Inking the outline!

You’re patience is paying off! Next up is inking! Inking is fun!

Oh shit-

Don’t ink your final draft!

Step 4a: Screw up

I never get my inking right on the first try and it’s hard to hide mistakes you made with ink. I ran my draft through the photocopier once (because I didn’t want to trace it) so my mistake here wasn’t that big a deal - I lost five minutes and this paper went into the my scrap tray. Always start inking the most difficult part so you don’t regret screwing up after being almost done.

At this point I realized I couldn’t erase the pencil lines anymore and went back to tracing paper on paper on screen. Be aware of the ink you use and how thick your paper is or you might end up leaving marks on the draft below.

(Below) The pattern on her brow is off in two places.

Step 4b: Finish inking the outline

As before focus on borders and major textures; about now you’ll notice which parts of your draft are to fine to trace well and which ones need some extra weight. Drop any lines you don’t like.

By now you probably have a couple of pages with sketches and bad inkings lying around - make sure you label them or find some other method to remove them from your line of work (like throwing them in the bin).

(Below) About 45 minutes, 5 of which were spent on the feather, 5 on the flowers, 10 on the fan, 10 on the face, and 15 on the torso including arms.

At this point you could scan and stick it into a colouring book.

Step 5: Textures!

This is the best part. Texturing a drawing is so satisfying it makes up for all the hardship up to this point.

Make a couple of copies this time to practice your texturing. Afterwards, feel free to continue the page you traced or run it through the photocopier once again.

(Below) Two versions with different types of shading.

It’s very easy to get carried away when shading; always go for a little less than you think you need. You can always add more later, but you can’t take it away.

Fur

Use lines that flow parallel to the outlines you’ve already drawn. Make the strands flow apart at the beginning and back together at the end. Try to keep the numbers of strands that begin and end constant. This will result in a larger spacing and thus a lighter centre of your bushel.

I like shading an entire area, in this case the entire head uniformly but very lightly, then I start thinking about accents and where light could come from. Wherever fur bundles together (usually at the end of a bushel) I add some more of the same texture to make it darker. You can lift some of the shading from your reference pictures and just copy it. But don’t limit yourself to what your references provide.

To be honest, I only roughly take notice of where I place my imaginary source of light and just emphasize parts of a bushel that were darker to begin with. Usually turns out okay.

Fabric

Generally, keep your texturing parallel, perpendicular or at a fixed angle to the next leading edge. The lines don’t have to be - and most of the time shouldn’t be - straight. Allow them to trace out wrinkles in your fabric or reinforce the fabric’s rigidity by copying the leading edge at short intervals.

The same formula of repeat the leading edge applies to other parts of the clothing - just vary the line separation and how strictly you follow the leading edges.

In other places lines placed at constant angles make a good texture.

Know your tools: my pens stop drawing at an angle of about 30-45° and drawing lines at this angle will make them lighter and discontinuous. This is a good approach to lightly shading a large area like most of the corset.

Cross-hatching gives the sleeve a wrinkle and two light-spots. Two layers at roughly 70-90° gives a good hatch, only add a third layer if you need it really dark - careful: this will make any contours established with two layers disappear.

Shadows

Some places just ought to be darker though, like the spot I marked behind the ear or below the chin. This gives your drawing some depth. Just reiterate the same local texture over and over again until it’s dark enough.

Without my annoying comments, the final result will look like this:

Is it perfect? Fuck no. Is it pretty good? Aye, meets my standards.

By the way, this is what we started with:

Tips for shaky hands

Sugar, caffeine, medical condition? Hands come in all degrees of shaky but don’t let that discourage you. Here’s how I approach the most important elements in my art.

Long lines

Long lines are hard to draw, if you don’t have practice sliding your hand across the page. I can do it sometimes but not reliably. Instead I place my wrist firmly on the page and draw the part of the line that is within my mobile range. The more of my wrist rests on the page, the less I shake. Then I lift my pen and move on to the next bit - sounds trivial?

Wrong.

Whenever you start or end a line you go from rest to drawing speed or vice versa. During these moments the constant flow of ink is spread over a shorter distance, resulting in a thicker line. Appending a new segment causes a brief overlap and results in a blotch, especially when you need longer than an instant to correctly put down your pen.

Coming in at an angle prevents the ink from flowing prematurely and gives you more control of your line.

Curved lines

Place your wrist on the inside of the curve (segment) - drawing towards yourself is easier than away. Rotate the page to make it happen or rotate yourself if the page is stationary (like a large canvas). Additionally, I like to keep my fingers stiff and only rotate around my wrist.

Textures

For very fine textures I keep the tip of my pen above the page and start repeating the pattern. About two thirds of the strokes will go into thin air but the shaking will make one third hit the page - a statistical approach to texturing.

Conclusion

My longest post so far - I starting making this almost 8 hours ago. A blank page is a scary thing, so many possibilities, so many ways to screw up. The most important advice to take from this post is plan, save, trace, repeat. You don’t have to be ashamed for tracing art; just don’t parade an exact copy as your own work and always keep your references at hand.

Why does this feel like academic writing 101...

I invite anyone to contribute their own quick and dirty drawing tips for amateurs to this post. DM me, if you have any questions or would like to use this a last-minute-Christmas gift - I’ll send you a free high-res. I don’t judge, not this year nor any other.

Best, Ocelittle

#tutorial #art tutorial #artists on tumblr #ink #ink drawing #drawing #art #amateur art #christmas gifts #horror vacui

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