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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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wildwheatfields · 7 months

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My next messy reference!! Details down below

Cleo de Nile -

Her mummy attributes are the mummy wrappings around her arm n leg. I feel like she’d have minimal wrapping cuz she preserves her skin so well. There would be decay under the wrappings that she doesn’t find too cute! Her eyes have gone gold from her powers. She has a giant scar where her organs were removed!! I like to think her scarabs crawl inside that opening or her mouth cuz how horrifying is that.

Her hair is now naturally a dark blue but she likes turquoise highlights and braiding in gold strands

She’s (ancient) Egyptian and has some arm hair, side burns n tummy hair. She waxes her legs. Shout out to my fellow hairy peeps who only do their legs! You’re valid

Lagoona Blue -

Her sea monster attributes are slippery pink skin, scales, fins, sharp teeth and multicolor hair. Her colors are real tropical coral and I love that for her. Her skin is mad slippery like an eel so she’s just so fast in the water. She has fish scales in placement of body hair cuz I’m apparently obsessed with that aspect I’ve created in MH.

Her freckles are blue!! She’s got fun lil dots on her face!! They prob look like many eyes in the dark of the sea yikes. Her hair is multicolored like that to blend in with the coral

She’s Honduran and grew up there but she got to move to the MH dorms n that was her first time outta the Honduran seas

Deuce Gorgon -

His gorgon attributes are his snake hair, fangs, forked tongue, claws and slippery green skin. He has no body hair! He is a slippery n slightly chubby snake! Y’all can rip his lil tummy from my bare hands I dare you.

He’s got scales on his head and as eyebrows in substitute of hair. He’s got the seven snake heads like in a show cuz I love those funky lil dudes. His eyes are that unnatural green cuz of gorgon powers so no one gets to admire those pretty eyes I’m so sorry my boy He’s also got a bunch of beauty marks all over him!!

I headcanon that he’s black and Greek. It just feels right to me

…

I really don’t know how to fix Deuce cuz he looks plain to me compared to the ghouls in my style. I think I kinda want his hair longer to do hair styles with his snakes?? Idk

#cleo de nile #cleo denile #cleo #lagoona blue #lagoona #deuce gorgon #deuce #monster high #monster high gen 3 #mhg3 #mh #mh g3

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zalmoxis-the-great · 3 months

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Love in full bloom ! - Short story - Orizyn

Trazyn was lying there motionless for the third month in a row. Attention is still fully focused on observing the future La'rua, the forming Tau Fire Warriors team, training under the vigilant, eye of an experienced Shas'Ui.

‘Orikan, I swear on the Galleries, if you get spotted and ruin this for me, I will put you in a tesseract labyrinth next to my Death Guards' attacks strategies displays’, he received from the unmoving overlord.

Orikan flicked his tail, curiosity replacing the anger at the rude, and frankly, disgusting remark.

His divinations found the archivist on a planet next to a battlefield Imotekh was heading to. The astromancer decided to bail on the mandatory activity the Stormlord was dragging him to, by summoning his right to the ancient feud, and rushing off course, before his phaeron decided to use his hekatic power to revoke it.

He found the overlord, covered with field emitters, witnessing what looked like every step of future Fire warrior's training.

Rather than going back to join his dynasty’s fight, a pointless endeavor, We would win this engagement, regardless of my presence. He decided to observe the observer before he deemed that enough time had passed for him to return to his proper studies, without invoking Imotekh’s wrath.

‘They need another full Tau'cyr of training before the commander will no longer call them Shas’Saal, but Shas’La.’ Trazyn explained after another month. ‘I intend to capture the engramatic recording of the whole process. It’s beautiful isn’t it, them growing into their destiny?’.

Orikan moved his focus from the Tau to Trazyn.

The tropical weather on this planet was in its rainy season, with violent winds blowing water droplets everywhere. The emitters did little to protect Trazyn from the elements, and being completely motionless meant he endured the impromptu showers.

What was spectacular was the tiny dust or earth particles carried by the droplets, that, drop by drop, deposited the debris and dead plant matter into every crevice and nook on the archivist’s carapace.

Normally, mud or dirt would be cleaned by scarabs, but Trazyn was in an undercover mission, and dared not bring anything to be read by a passing scan. He looked like a muddy statue.

After another four months of sitting still, small orchid seeds seem to have found their way to those little dirt patches, and the warm, and humid weather allowed the epiphyte plant to grow there.

First, the little white air roots appeared, hugging the living metal, like silver jewelry, and after that a stem appeared.

For the last 3 days all the plants on Trazyn were in full bloom.

Some of them, blossoming with an insane amount of tiny white flowers, that hung heavy from Trazyn’s left arm, covering it like an exotic pelt.

On his torso, the orchids decided to grow horizontally, with beautiful blue flowers, deeper than the archivist's turquoise but similar enough that Orikan could imagine they grew from his necrodermis.

His cape and legs, as the archivist was kneeling to stay low enough to observe, were covered by plants with thick massive leaves, that covered him and gave the impression that Trazyn was sprouting from the earth itself. At first, a few rare red flowers popped up sporadically on his legs and rear, but the closer they were in proximity to the sun, they more they started multiplying. The top of Trazyn's hood looked like it was on fire with these bright red blossoms.

Orikan looked at his deathmask, endlessly fascinated by the yellow flowers, that managed to sneak into his hollowed cheeks and mouth, blooming upwards on their stems so that it looked like Trazyn was wearing a heavy crown made of gold, a noble regal scholar, and an academic so in love with his studies that he became part of it.

‘I agree’, he replied, looking at his colleague.

#last one on tumblr #finally a v-day one !#Orikan taking 4 months to answer a rhetoric question #necrons #orikan the diviner #trazyn the infinite #warhammer 40k #short story

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egypt-museum · 5 months

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Gold Scarab Ring

New Kingdom, 18th to 20th Dynasty, ca. 1550-1069 BC. Bequest of Eva Catherine Brown. Now in the Cleveland Museum of Art. 1936.653

Ancient Egyptian turquoise faience scarab (mounted on swivel bezel in modern gold ring). From the end of the third millennium B.C., the scarab beetle served as an amulet in Egypt where it represented the sun god.

The scarab integrated into a gold ring appears in the fourth century B.C. The articulation of the insect and the embellishment of the box reveal craftsmanship of the highest order.

Scarab rings with thicker hoops developed during the Second Intermediate Period. The scarab itself was mounted with a gold wire running through its centre on which it could swivel. As well as gold, silver and electrum were used. They were popular during the New Kingdom period and were worn by both men and women.

#ancient egypt #ring #scarab #new kingdom #jewelry

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artifacts-archive · 1 month

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Scarab Ring

Egyptian, 1388-1351 BC (New Kingdom)

The hoop of this turquoise-colored faience ring ends in lotus blossoms; the bezel is in the form of a scarab.

#artifact #Egypt #new kingdom #ring #jewelry #faience

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perpetualcynicism · 2 years

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𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙸𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝙲𝚢𝚗𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚝: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏.

𝙻𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑: 𝟹,𝟶𝟿𝟹 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜.

𝙰𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛-𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

𝙵𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎.

The long cry of a passing vulture echoed through the vast expanse of sand and dust dunes. The bird glided smoothly upon lofty wings of night, a lonesome black shadow against a star-flecked sky. In the rest of the sand dunes there was silence, for there was little life to be found in the barren planes that stretched so far away.

The desert itself, however, was not devoid of activity. It was true that in the depths of the dunes perhaps only a handful of scarabs stirred, but scattered around the seemingly lifeless terrain were a few oases, dotted sparsely amidst the night-cooled sands.

In one such oasis were you located, leaning against the trunk of a tall palm tree whose long leaves rustled in a crisp night breeze. Beside you lay an ornate jackal-eared headdress and a neat pile of clothing, none of which were your own.

Not far off from your resting spot was a small pool, although this one was unique to even the small handful of oases in Sumeru. Fluorescent algae clung to the edges of the pool, lighting up the translucent water within, and the lake itself seemed to glow and shift with cool blues and purples and aquamarines.

Your eyes were resting idly on a figure standing in the centre of the pool, the tips of his long, pearlescent hair drifting in swirling waves beneath the water, bronze skin illuminated in splashes of phosphorescent shades ranging from turquoise and indigo to pale green and neon blue. The trails of his shendyt swept around him with every movement like wisps of rising incense.

He lay back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to float briefly atop the still waves, hair spilling around his head in a drifting halo of snowy white. Then he raised himself up again, a stream of water cascading down his bare back, and said, “You should join me, you know. The water is the perfect temperature.”

The comment was, of course, directed towards you. You considered the option in silence, a little hesitant to disturb your current peace. You were rather content as things were at the moment.

Noticing your pause, he gestured to the pool with his head and prompted again, “Come on. You’ll enjoy it.”

You did have to admit, the prospect was tempting.

You sighed. “…Alright.”

Taking off your outermost layer— namely, the large black cloak Cyno had lent you to shield yourself from the frigid night air— and your shoes, you approached the side of the pool, watching the sandy bank stir in the push and pull of a minuscule tide.

Cyno looked at you fondly as you dipped your foot in, somewhat apprehensive. He pushed a small wave of water towards you, coaxing you further into joining him. You cast him a playful glare.

The water was surprisingly warm; a pleasant temperature as you lowered yourself in. Little waves lapped against your skin, inviting and gentle, not unlike a lover’s tender touch welcoming you into the pool.

The water level stopped nigh of your upper half— a little awkward and shallow to swim in, so you settled for wading to Cyno’s side instead. He smiled at you as you approached, uncharacteristically kind: were these waters truly calming enough to soften even his sharp edges?

“You’re going to be cold when you get out,” he pointed out, gesturing to your fully-clothed form.

“One of us needs to make up for your indecency, Cyno,” you remarked dryly; a comment which awarded you an eye roll. “What, were suggesting I take off all my clothes?” you continued to tease.

“And what if I was?” He leaned forwards, a smirk playing on his lips. You cleared your throat loudly and crossed your arms.

“As I said. I need to make up for your indecency.”

“Accusing a Matra of indecency is not to be taken lightly, feather,” Cyno advised.

You stiffened up at the pet name, both in surprise and a sudden flustering. You had never taken Cyno as one for pet names, and so this was… unexpected.

Perceptive as ever, your reaction did not go unnoticed by Cyno— and, unluckily for you, tonight he seemed to be in the mood for toying with you: thankfully a mood that rarely came over him, but when it did…

Let’s just say he was awfully good at it.

“Oh? Do you like the nickname, feather?” he pressed, taking a step towards you. He had raised an eyebrow, gaze almost playful as he noticed the colour spreading over your face. “Your face appears to be quite red,” he continued, hooking a finger beneath your chin and tilting your head up to face him. You were close enough now that you could feel his hair tickling your skin. “Are you feeling alright?”

A heated flush climbed up your neck, and you pushed his face away before he could get any closer, cursing him with a grumble while also burying your face into his torso to prevent him seeing the vibrancy on your cheeks.

Cyno’s skin, chilled by the night and the crisp desert air, was cool, and he could feel the furious burning of your face against his chest. He huffed a laugh, and a discrete smile spread across his face, veiled by the darkness but containing both fondness and slight amusement.

You must have heard his quiet chuckle, because you scowled, face still hot on his skin, and slapped a wave of water into his person in a form of cold-blooded revenge.

Cyno paused, shocked. He stood there, blinking, and took a second to fathom that he, the General Mahamatra, Preserver of Justice, whose very mention of his name strikes fear into the hearts of those who hear it, had just had water splashed in his face.

This was not acceptable. He knew what he must do.

He levelled out the momentary shock in his gaze, a serious expression falling upon his features and taking its place.

In a low voice, he muttered, “You will live to regret that.”

The next thing you knew, an even bigger wave slammed into your own face.

Your jaw fell open in shock, eyes wide and disbelieving. When your surprise subsided, it was to see that Cyno had adopted quite the smug expression, arms folded across his chest.

He’s satisfied with himself, you realised, horrified. That bastard.

You sent another splash in his direction, larger than the last, which was immediately returned by an even greater one in yours. Blinking away the water in your eyes, you shook your head furiously, beads of water flying from your hair.

After a few more rounds of this back-and-forth, a chilling discovery settled upon you: you couldn’t win. Cyno seemed to know this, and the look he sent towards you was one of confidence, as if to say, Do your worst.

It did not take a genius to work out that this course of action was not going to work in your favour.

So, as the brave, honourable soul you were, you took the second option closest to you: bailing.

You took off at a great speed of not very fast at all, wading painstakingly through the almost chest-high water in an act of defiance.

It may not have been the most efficient method of escape, but you were making a point.

Soon catching onto your change of tactics, Cyno waded after you, frightfully fast considering the masses of water pushing back against him. You swallowed and willed yourself to walk faster, but the tide did not yield to you as it seemed to do for him.

Now this was unfair. Even the pool itself was working against you.

A hand wrapped around your wrist from behind and tugged you towards your pursuer. Losing your footing, you fell backwards into the lake and surfaced a few moments later, coughing as sheets of clear water streamed down your shoulders.

You swung your head around to glare at Cyno, a pointed venom in your narrowed eyes. He levelled your gaze once again with one of his own: one that spoke of victory and… was that smugness?

Despite the waters that surrounded you, you found a newfound fire of determination had begun to burn within your chest.

Were you going to let him get the best of you like this? Admit defeat so quickly?

No. Absolutely not.

You were going to win this duel if it was the last thing you did.

Leaping forwards, you tackled him downwards, taking advantage of the split second of his surprise to push him beneath the luminescent waves.

But you should have known that Cyno would not be one to give up so easily, either.

Reacting almost immediately, he pulled you under with him, yanking you towards him with such force that you collided into him for a second time.

Beneath the water, your vision was a blur. Your surroundings were reduced to hazy blots, and they seemed to phase in and out of existence. You twisted around like a fish in a net, desperately struggling to make sense of your surroundings, but an arm around your back kept you locked firmly in place, held tight to Cyno’s chest.

Eyesight was rendered futile: all you could see were indiscernible shades of blue and aquamarine that merged and danced like the aurora, and focusing on a single location was impossible. You would have to use your other senses to gain some sense of direction: namely, touch.

You closed your eyes— they were useless now, anyhow— and focused.

You could feel water pushing in subtle tides against your every movement, trailing from your limbs with a shocking softness. You could feel drifting strands of Cyno’s long, opaline hair stroke across your skin, the sensation a little ticklish and verging on playful. They felt a little like the light touch of a gentle finger trailing along your arms and collarbone.

You could feel Cyno’s body under you, the lean muscles of his torso firm and unyielding when he tugged you ever the closer. You could feel your knees knocking together as he kicked slowly to keep the both of you from sinking too far, your legs no doubt by this point an incoherent tangle of limbs.

You could feel the brush of a hand on the side of your face, the contact so faint it could almost be hovering over you instead of truly touching you. You could feel this hand guide your face downwards, and unable to see what was happening, you could only blindly follow the instruction.

A trail of bubbles suddenly burst forth from your lips: you didn’t know how long you could stay under here for. And, still pressed against Cyno, you could not surface, either.

Realising this, a restless agitation seized control of your senses, soon evolving into alarm when you felt heavy walls of water pressing against your lungs. Your chest began to constrict, heart pounding erratically as you clung to the remaining slivers of oxygen within you. But against your will, your mouth fell open, and you released the final few bubbles of air to the darkness of the lake.

Too caught in your panic, you failed to notice when a nose bumped against your own, and when a final tug of his hand on your cheek closed the remaining space between you.

In the next moment, something soft covered your lips, easing away your distress in a silent promise of safety and comfort. Cyno slipped his own mouth open and exhaled slowly into yours, providing you with ample oxygen to calm your racing heartbeat. Then, still sharing a breath, he tilted your head backwards and deepened the kiss, his own eyes falling shut as he drank in your presence, drawing you closer still. His lips moved against yours like the push and pull of the tide; a gentle tugging sensation that was neither demanding nor passive. His free hand found yours after a little searching, and he wove your fingers together, thumb skimming over your knuckles to soothe you further.

You didn’t know how much time passed before you burst through the surface of the waves, droplets of water flying from the point of your emergence. Now in the open air, Cyno held the kiss for a little longer before finally breaking away.

You both stood in the pool, heaving for breath, chests rising and falling with the effort of drawing new air into your lungs. You coughed up a mouthful of water, clothes beyond drenched and clinging tightly to your skin, heart still pounding— though this time, you couldn’t tell whether it was from your panic or from the kiss.

It took a long time before one of you spoke.

Cyno turned to you, wiping some plastered strands of hair from his face, and drew out a long, slightly breathless sigh, not yet meeting your eyes. He paused for a moment, before raising his head so that your gazes met. He swallowed, and said, “I apologise for frightening you.”

You could only nod in response, still unable to speak. Taking your silence as a bad sign, he continued, guilt weighing heavy on his words.

“I… didn’t mean to cause you any discomfort. Had I known that you would find the situation uncomfortable, I would not have acted as impulsively as I did. I can only hope that you did not find it too unpleasant.”

You shook your head. Finally having regained enough breath to speak, you said, “It’s fine. Just… warn me next time you plan on almost drowning me, okay?”

His eyes narrowed at your sarcasm, clearly not finding it amusing in the slightest. You cleared your throat.

“Sorry, maybe that comment… wasn’t in the best of taste, considering the circumstance.”

Another silence fell over you, only broken by the quiet rustle of palm leaves in a hush of wind and the lapping of now-calm water against your skin.

This time, you were the first to break it.

“I think you won the duel, though,” you admitted, albeit a little begrudgingly. To your surprise, Cyno shook his head.

“No. Your strength of will far surpassed my own. That alone makes you worthy of being the victor.”

You lifted an eyebrow, unable to stop the satisfied tug at the corner of your lips. “Really? I never thought I’d see the day the General Mahamatra admits defeat so easily.”

Cyno hesitated for a moment, caught between teasing back and voicing his sincerity.

He chose the latter option.

“No,” he shook his head. “It isn’t a case of me admitting defeat. Rather, the truth of the matter is simply that you beat me, in both tenacity and determination. You are deserving of victory: this one and many more.”

Not expecting such a heartfelt response, you paused, rendered speechless by the truthfulness of his voice. He wasn’t flattering you in the slightest: he truly believed that you had won this little match, though you knew his strength and integrity transcended your own by miles.

You whispered a quiet ‘thank you’, unsure what else to say. Cyno nodded once in reply.

He stiffened when he felt the contact of your head against his chest, and looked down to see you resting your forehead upon his collarbone.

“You know, you really don’t have to be this apologetic,” you said. He opened his mouth to utter a protest, but you placed a finger over his lips, silencing him before he had a chance to speak. “Nope. I’m not hearing any of it.”

Cyno’s brows furrowed, and he stared down in slight puzzlement at the single finger that held power enough to silence him. He realised that he could still speak if he wanted to, but something about the conviction you carried in your action told him otherwise.

Sighing, he abandoned his remaining attempts at an apology.

“Very well.”

You withdrew the Finger of Silence, satisfied.

The following moment, a smile laced with mischief crossed your face, as if you had been struck by a brilliant idea.

“Although…” you drew out the word, craning your neck sideways, “if you do want to drop your guilt and find some way to make it up to me, you could always kiss me again.”

The stare you received was one containing little amusement. Not willing to wilt beneath his gaze, however, you stared back, defiant and unwavering.

Cyno sighed after a long last, shoulders sagging a little. If this was truly your request, he wasn’t about to deny it to you.

Dipping his head forwards, he captured your lips in a quick— and even slightly bashful— kiss, in contrast to the deep passion he had shown before, pulling away to regard you with tender eyes some would have thought Cyno incapable of. His hair was still wet, and a few cool droplets brushed your forehead as he rested his forehead against your own, the tip of your noses touching the other’s. His arms came to encircle your person, holding your waist loosely under the water.

He closed his eyes in a slow blink towards you; a display of subtle affection that required no words to convey its message of love. You returned the gesture. When you opened your eyes, the gaze of those staring back at you had melted into liquid pools of gentle passion— pools which you would not mind losing yourself in the depths of.

Silence.

Then, out of nowhere, you asked, “Why ‘feather’?”

Cyno hesitated at the sudden question. He took a second to think, carefully picking his next words.

“Do you know of the myth of the afterlife containing the weighing of one’s heart against a feather on a pair of scales?”

You nodded slowly, unsure where this was going.

“Should the heart be lighter than the feather, eternal happiness is granted to the soul after their arrival at the afterlife. But should the heart outweigh the feather, it is a sign of moral impurity, and the soul’s heart is consumed and they cannot achieve peace. This is because the feather is a symbol of all virtue and truth: purity and goodness manifested in a physical form.”

“Okay… and?”

He blinked, and stated bluntly, “You are the feather.”

“…Oh.” You paused. “Uh, thank you.”

Another silence passed in blissful peace. You began to subconsciously sway from side to side in the water, and he mirrored your movements.

“Hang on… Cyno?”

He hummed.

“Did you bring any towels?”

…This time, the silence was not as welcome.

You sucked in a breath.

“Right. Well, then. It’s going to be a fun walk back.”

——————————————————————

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 @kazu-sun 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌.

#genshin impact x reader #cyno #cyno x reader

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quirkthieves · 6 months

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@enignoema from here

This was an unusual place to find the Secretary General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities, especially while alone. But it was also unusual for her to have the ability to see through time, or a doctorate at the age of 20, so it was par for the course that Ishizu Ishtar was a woman who did many unusual things.

She sat in Gotham's most nameless bar, a glass of beer with a few sips already gone still forming beads of condensation on the outside.

Despite her diminutive stature, like the rest of her family, she was both blessed and burdened by a strong presence. This was only bolstered by her manner of dress, sleeveless white fabric with a golden neckline only made brighter by the fact she was practically dripping with jewelry, ranging from golden cuffs and anklets to rings bearing turquoise scarabs and inlaid signets. A headdress topped with a familiar golden eye and sharp wings. Far flashier than what she wore for her official appearances. The embodiment of a tomb's hidden treasures.

And of course, the Necklace, which always gave off the impression that it was watching you, despite its inanimacy.

She had found him there, because she knew he would be there-- asking questions about things he very much shouldn't. So she had acted first.

"I am not a woman of violence, Mr. Riddler." Although she certainly could be. "And there are far worse things in this world than being killed."

Hauntingly familiar turn of phrase, wasn't it?

"I'm sure we can come to a suitable agreement, should you be willing to keep your weapons where they belong. I am also more than persistent enough to continue putting walls in your path, but it brings me no joy, and I have other matters to attend to."

#enignoema

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blueiskewl · 1 year

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The 5 Most Opulent Artifacts Found in King Tut’s Inner Tomb

All that glitters is sometimes gold—particularly when it comes to the tomb of King Tutankhamun.

There is perhaps no other period in human history that has captured minds and imaginations quite like ancient Egypt. “Egyptomania,” or the intense interest in all thing Egypt, was first sparked by Napoleon’s Egyptian Campaign at the turn of the 19th century. Throughout the 1800s, people across the world emulated the architecture and design of Egyptian culture—for example, Victorian-era jewelry frequently incorporated scarabs, and cartouches and monuments across Europe took the form of obelisks.

The pervasive obsession with Egypt reached an apogee when on November 26, 1922, archaeologist Howard Carter and his team discovered the doorway to the tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamun (commonly referred to as King Tut) in the Valley of the Kings on the west bank of the Nile. Though archaeological digs had been undertaken throughout the area, most tombs had succumbed to looting and grave robbing, leaving them stripped bare of their original contents. Tut’s tomb, however, had been hidden by debris and rubble, preserving it to near perfect condition.

Despite discovering King Tutankhamun’s tomb in late 1922, it took several months for archaeologists to work their way through and catalogue the contents within the outer chambers. On February 16, 1923, Carter finally came face-to-face with the doorway leading to the tomb’s inner burial chamber and unsealed it. What he and his team were met with was the most well-preserved and intact pharaonic tombs ever found. Over the following eight years, the items and goods contained therein were carefully catalogued and removed, and today are held in the collection of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo.

To mark the centennial of the unsealing of the burial chamber, we’ve gathered five of the most opulent and intriguing artifacts that were found in King Tutankhamun’s tomb.

Tutankhamun’s Sarcophagus and Three Coffins:

Seeing the sarcophagus was perhaps one of the most exciting moments for the archaeologists at the time, as it indicated early on that the contents were preserved and intact. Crafted of quartzite and red granite, and displaying the images of Isis, Nephthys, Neith, and Serqet, the sarcophagus housed three nesting coffins which held Tutankhamun’s mummified body. The outer two coffins are made of fully gilded wood and inlaid with glass and semiprecious stones, such as turquoise and lapis lazuli. The innermost coffin, however, is made almost entirely out of 110.4 kilos of solid gold, similarly adorned with inlaid stones, and incised with inscriptions and in the shape of Osiris holding scepter and flail.

The Death Mask of Tutankhamun

Found within the innermost coffin upon the mummified body, King Tut’s death mask has become a world-recognized icon of ancient Egypt and the pharaonic era. Composed of 10.23 kilos of solid gold, it depicts Tutankhamun wearing the traditional stripped pharaonic headdress replete with representations of the goddesses Nekhbet and Wadjet above his brow. The mask’s back and shoulders are inscribed in Egyptian hieroglyphs with a protective spell copied from the Book of the Dead, offering protection as the pharaoh moved through the underworld.

Canopic Shrine

In the process of mummification, many of the person’s organs are removed and placed in what are called canopic jars. These containers frequently included lids shaped after the heads of the Sons of Horus, protective deities. Like many other ancient Egyptian tombs, King Tut’s included an alabaster canopic chest containing the four separate jars. However, in the pharaoh’s tomb, these were housed in a canopic shrine. Standing at six-and-a-half feet tall and enrobed in gold, the shrine includes the figure of the goddess Nepthys who stands guard over the royal contents.

Golden Sandals

A large swathe of the items found in King Tutankhamun’s tomb represented personal necessities, such as clothing, toiletries like perfume, and food stuffs. Included among these items were a pair of gold sandals. These golden shoes have been found in numerous other ancient tombs, and it is believed that they were made specifically for funerary and burial practices. The soles of the shoes depict the nine traditional enemies of Egypt, including the Nubians and Libyans, symbolizing that as god-king they were literally beneath his feet.

Golden Chariot

King Tutankhamun’s tomb contained a total of six golden chariots—though, unfortunately, all were in various states of disrepair as they were either mishandled or damaged by looters. After restoration, they were identified as typical D-cab chariots that were meant to be drawn by two horses. The image of a pharaoh driving a chariot was a common symbol of royal power and wealth, and in ancient times, pharaohs were often presented at public events in opulent chariots to highlight their status.

By Annikka Olsen.

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diceyclipse · 1 year

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Scarab Galaxy - Another galaxy dice set, this time in gorgeous shades of violet, turquoise, and blues, with flashes of green and copper.

#dice #my dice #diceyclipse #dnd dice #polyhedral dice #dice set #dice making #dnd #dice maker #handmade dice #galaxy dice #galaxy #space #space dice #math rocks #dnd5e #ttrpg dice #ttrpg #resin dice

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cleopatrastruth · 3 months

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diamondcrownacademy · 6 months

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DCA Info Part 37: Outfits from 2020 - 2021 (Part 2)

View Part 1

Art colored by @au-ni-ro

🐠 Cerule Oceana

🐙 Octo Extravagance Outfit

As shown by the image, this dress is designed for performances and appears to take inspiration from Ursula. The dress is purple and black in color and includes a sweetheart bodice, while the purple bubble skirt includes black skirt bustles, black strings arranged to resemble arches, and a dark purple overskirt. The footwear consists of a pair of black heels and a pair of grayish black stockings.

The accessories include a black headband with loops, a gold nautilus shell pin and black ruffles on the side, a gold nautilus shell necklace and a pair of black fingerless gloves with light purple details and gold bands.

🐚 Seashell Serenade Outfit

This ensemble is made for fun on the dance floor! This turquoise dress consists of a bodice that partially resembles a fan and a three layered asymmetrical skirt with yellow ruffle trim. The first and final layers of the skirt are turquoise while the center is a lighter shade and has a chain of pearls and purple nautilus shells. The footwear consists of a pair of lavender heels with turquoise ruffles, purple shells and pearls straps.

The accessories include a pearl headband attached to a purple shell clip over a pale turquoise ruffle, a pair of turquoise gloves with pearl strands, and a purple waist belt attached to a pair of pearl strands which are in turn attached to a gold nautilus shell with smaller purple shells.

🌊 Seahorse Rhapsody Outfit

Likely taking influence from dresses worn at bars, this fuchsia dress includes a bodice shaped like an upside down fan and is a light shade of pink and the dress's skirt has a strand of black pearls. Over the dress is a black bolero jacket with pale mauve ruffles and the cuffs have purple nautilus shells. The footwear consists of a pair of dark purple heels with light pink ruffles and black pearl strands. Additionally included is a pair of lavender stockings with designs that resemble octopus legs.

The accessories include a pink flower hair clips at the back of the wearer's head, a black pearl necklace with a purple pendant, a pair of black gloves, and a black waist belt and attached to the belt is a light pink ruffle ribbon with black filaments.

🏝 Vidya Nazari

🌺 Desert Flower Outfit

Inspired by Princess Jasmine, this outfit consists of a blue floral vest worn over a teal dress with the bodice having gold details and the skirt having navy teal blue upside down hearts with gold outlines as well as pale yellow lotus buds. The footwear consists of a pair of navy teal blue sandals with the straps being light teal and having magenta gems while the ankle strap has navy teal blue ruffles.

The accessories include a gold headband attached a light teal transparent veil with a gold outline and attached to the headband/veil are pink flowers and a gold pearl chain with a magenta gem, a gold collar and necklace with a magenta gem, a pair of "sleeves" that are navy blue and the light teal portions resemble angel sleeves, and a waist chain of gold pearl strands attached to magenta jewels on the skirt.

🐍 Golden Scarab Outfit

Inspired by the gold scarab that guided Jafar to the Cave of Wonders, this outfit consists of a orange puff sleeved top with the bodice having henna patterns and various gold trim throughout the top and a pair of light orange harem pants with an overskirt that features the same henna patterns as the bodice. The footwear consists of a pair of light orange heeled sandals with scarabs on the straps.

The accessories include a orange ruffle hair clip resembling a flower, a gold collar attached to a chain which is attached to a gold scarab charm, and a pair of gold bracelets with teardrop like charms on them.

💃 Dancing Ensemble

In this picture, Vidya is shown wearing a purple sleeveless tunic worn underneath a red sari with the top having a gold outline and the bottom being lined with scarlet fur.

The accessories include various jewelry with circular charms, including the headdress which has teardrop charms, the necklaces and bracelets. The only other accessory is the gold belt with the henna looking flower on it.

The man Vidya is dancing with would be the basis for Alejandro.

Briar and Vidya Outfit Swap

Here, both girls are wearing outfits based on the opposite girl's cultures and aesthetics.

Vidya is wearing a teal medieval style dress with gold accents and deep purple sleeves. She accessorizes with a gold crown and transparent teal veil with a floral print.

Briar is wearing a light pink Arabian dance outfit with gold accents and transparent bishop sleeves. Much like Vidya, she also wears a gold crown and veil, but her veil is pink with a henna print.

#clothing information #DCA info #diamond crown academy

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fantodsdhrit · 2 years

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for strangers anything extort anything they stroke how silly to nail tears

to sentences

to ghazals

damming insides with turquoise scarab nightlight

how

your phosphorus

clavicle

won't leave my sonorous teeth thoughts in thousands

are shed

never

#poetry #meditation #dhrit #spilled ink

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altairtalisman · 5 months

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Mashe's Bio

"Time, you say? What a priceless currency, and yet one worthless all the same~ Mashe will still take it though!"

More details on Mashe is under the cut

Name: Mashe

Age: 3696

Height: 157 cm

Birthday: 15 Itis 1674 BCE (Ebhi) [self-declared]

Orientation: Queer

Pronouns: None, uses name in place of pronouns

Species: Chronoven (formerly human)

Title: The Second Hour

Country of Birth: Roxanza

Likes: Jewellery, flowy clothing, hourglasses, caramel

Dislikes: Shoes, fungi, marionette demons

Hobbies: Escape room puzzles, building sandcastles, playing card games

Personality: A free-spirit, Mashe's always in a cheery mood and likes to go wherever Mashe pleases. With a flair for dramatics, Mashe's usually the one lightening the mood even when the situation is far from appropriate. Perhaps similar to Ma Li, Mashe's personality can be attributed to longevity reasons… though Mashe's much more empathetic than others credit Mashe for

Style: Flowy clothing that allows Mashe to freely move about and spin in, also wears bangles around Mashe's wrists and ankles, with the ones around Mashe's wrists containing scarab beetles carved from turquoise

Abilities: Able to freely cross between Ratein and the Astral Realm without the need of dimension gates. Is able to use cosmic magic, stop time, view events happening in the past, present and future, as well as cause anything that Mashe's weapon comes in contact with to 'dissociate' from existence (apart from chronovens, The Caretaker and The Artiste)

Like the rest of the Hourly Twelve, Mashe is also able to open portals that allow Mashe to travel anywhere. Also able to reverse time, but only once and at the cost of Mashe's life. Being a chronoven, Mashe's only able to die either by Mashe's lifespan naturally running out, or by time reversal

For reasons unknown, Mashe possesses the ability to create cosmic scarabs that serve Mashe, and can only be 'dismissed' by Mashe

Background: Growing up as an orphan, Mashe quickly learnt how to survive living in Roxanza's markets. As the tombs of the Roxanzan rulers were filled to the brim with treasure, Mashe deduced that if Mashe could get hold of even one item from their tombs, Mashe could spend the rest of Mashe's life in comfort

At 17 years old, the then-Roxazan ruler suddenly died, with the cause officially announced as 'the gods calling him to join them'. Mashe found this announcement to be ridiculous as not only was the belief of deities far-fetched to Mashe, Mashe had witnessed Criden happily snacking on his soul. While waiting for the ruler to be buried, Mashe decided to steal a few items of seemingly no value from the market in hopes of tricking some hapless tourist into buying said items

One of the items successfully stolen was a meteorite necklace of unknown origin, and Mashe decided that the necklace was a favourite as Mashe liked the coloured beads. After two months, the ruler was officially sealed in his tomb, which meant that Mashe had the opportunity to sneak into his tomb to steal whatever Mashe could find

Mashe enacted the plan a month after the official sealing, deftly navigating the tomb despite not knowing its layout. Mashe could only find two sets of bronze bangles and his ceremonial dagger buried with him, which disappointed Mashe as there was nothing else of value. Furthermore, the bangles were the signature jewellery of the late ruler, which meant that if Mashe tried to sell them, everyone would know that Mashe had raided his tomb and be put to death

Deciding to go back the way Mashe came, Mashe was about to leave the area when Mashe heard faint rumbling sounds coming from where Mashe entered. Hurriedly, Mashe made their way back to the entry point when Mashe realised that the rocks were closing shut, which meant that Mashe would be sealed in if Mashe didn't escape in time

Dashing towards the exit, Mashe was about to leap out of the exit but failed as the rocks slammed against each other, trapping Mashe inside the tomb. Determined to leave, Mashe sought other ways out of the tomb, including ordering stray beetles to dig a hole out of the tomb as well as using the dagger to chip Mashe's way out. After a while, Mashe started to cough out blood and Mashe realised that the tomb contained foreign fungi for the ruler was well-known to be a mycophile and he was most definitely buried with his collection

Slumping down against a wall, Mashe coughed out even more blood and wished that Mashe had just a few seconds in order to escape the tomb. The necklace suddenly glowed, seemingly acceding to Mashe's wish. Mashe then felt as though Mashe was burnt alive, Mashe's hair slowly but surely weighing down on Mashe. While in pain, Mashe's left eye felt as though Mashe was branded, and was terrified as Mashe broke up and reformed in a galaxy

After an eternity, Mashe was approached by a humanoid resembling a cluster of colours and stars. She soon introduced herself as Alexia of the Eternal Hour, the sole chronoven. Mashe, curious to who Alexia was, asked her about her title. Alexia shared that chronovens came to be when a human in possession of one of the 12 meteorite necklaces made a genuine wish related to time, and that these humans transcended to an existence that was no longer human

Mashe then jokingly asked if it meant that Mashe was now considered a deity, to which Alexia replied yes as in a sense, they were both in control over time and space, concepts that no species, save for celestials, understood. She then continued to explain that there used to be 12 chronovens including her, but due to reasons, she was the only one left

Realising that Alexia was actually lonely, Mashe declared to be her new friend and to find more people like them so that Alexia could have a family of chronovens, something that Mashe always wanted to have. Mashe then asked Alexia why didn't she go back in time to prevent the previous chronovens' reasons from occurring, which prompted her to explain that in order to reverse time, it meant giving up their existence as a chronoven was using their lifespan to reverse time

Alexia added that Mashe should have gained an exclusive chronoven ability related to Mashe, which delighted the latter as Mashe couldn't wait to play with said ability. Alexia laughed, informing Mashe that since the latter was a chronoven, Alexia was now the First Hour and the latter the Second Hour. This made Mashe's day, for now Mashe had an eternity to comfortably live for without worrying about money while learning more about the full extent of a chronoven's abilities...

True Form:

#Hallowed Hotel #Mashe #tw eyestrain #tw death mention #Altair draws

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