julescromwell-blog

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Lily James Filmography: [1/?] Cinderella (2015)

aka the Lily James is stupid gorgeous and I’m gonna gif everything she’s in so I can stare at her face meme

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tessaclarke‌:

Whispers passed through the liminal space quickly, especially when power was involved. She had lived long enough to know that it was what everyone sought, what everyone dreamed of possessing. She had developed an ability to sniff those people out - to know when all that was wanted from her was her reputation as alpha. She supposed that she couldn’t really blame them. This world was not built for the meek, for those that hid and waited for things to fall into their lap. Connections were the easiest way to get what they needed, and connections with those in power were, undoubtedly, the most useful. She offered her power where she could, doled out connections and assistance as though it were simply candy being given out on Halloween. She enjoyed it - liked helping her pack, liked helping others as well, provided that they offered her a semblance of respect. Over her thousand-plus-years she had made her fair share of mistakes - been unable to help as much as she had wanted to, been too weak to make the difference that she had wanted to. 

The minute stories had reached her about an Immortal Witch almost as old as she was, she had wondered if it was the same witch that she had once known. Could the world be so small? Could it possibly be the girl she had tried to help, back before she had fully grown into her power? She had needed to find out for herself. It was what lead her to the Four Palms, her fingers fidgeting with her nail polish as she pushed through the door, eyes latching onto the familiar face as she smiled lightly at the girl’s ability to be in her own world, unencumbered by a need to pay attention to everyone else. She paused for a few minutes, waiting, watching, until she cleared her throat lightly. “I was hoping you could tell me how you’ve been.”

Julienne was old, but there were creatures older than she and she knew some of them lingered in this space. But she knew few were like her. Still, the likeness in age gave her a sense of comfort, she didn’t feel as out of place. In her lifetime she had come across all sorts of creatures but few were like the woman who stood before her. As the years pass many things began to blur together. The voices and faces of the past become one, few remain clear. The ones that remain have stayed clear for a reason. The woman before her was a face that Jules would never forget. The first time Jules had seen it she was no more than a child, back before time had frozen. It was a much different time and they were in a much different place. It is a memory that haunts her. How her life could’ve been changed if only she had listened. It was too late when Jules had learned that the woman was right. Still, the familiar face brings a smile to her lips. Putting down her herbs Jules walked out from behind the counter, wiping the dirt onto her pants. Despite the time that had passed and the events that had transpired, Jules still felt like the young girl that had first met Tessa. “It’s you.” It was all that she could manage out. “You’re here.” Her words had set in the realization of her presence, an overwhelming emotion took control of Julienne causing her to close the space between the two, engulfing the other in a tight hug. “I can’t believe it's you.”

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leosatellius‌:

birds of a feather

In the club of Gatekeepers, there were ones that gave a lot of fucks, and then there were those who really edged on the side of not really. Leo waned between the two but he was mostly on the side of not. He walked his line and he stayed out of the limelight. There were better Gatekeepers than he that were fit to lead. He was the specialist that was called in when things got out of hand. As they had here. Six young people intended to tear the world apart, and Leo was there to fix it, and if need be, step in.

Knowing all that, he really did not want to step in. He really just wanted to fade back into obscurity, leaving the space to do whatever it wants. This was his duty, he felt, and he wore it for two thousand years and more and he carried it as both burden and badge. Walking into the diner, Leo held a plant. It was potted and from the small greenhouse that was the entire third floor of his Brooklyn townhouse. The majority of his home was a duplication of other artifacts that he had scattered around all the realities, never placing too much stock in their overall existence. Placing the plant down in front of the other Gatekeeper he nodded, “Brought you a small gift. The tea any good here?” He loved tea, almost as much books and plants. 

Of all the gatekeepers, Jules was probably the most unfit. She had never asked for the unwavering responsibility of an immortal life, she never wanted to be a powerful witch; she had wanted much simpler things. Gatekeepers were supposed to be a source of guidance and aid to the world, they were mere servants to a greater, omnipresent task.  But this keeper hid from the world and forged her own gate. The living, Jules learned, was not something she wanted to deal with. The problems of the living world seemed as immortal as she and she knew that her attempts at fixing them would just be undone. So, she concerned herself with her own realm, un-regrettably leaving the problems of the mortal realities to the other keepers. 

As wise and strong that time has made her, Leo was older and far wiser. He was the first of their kind, a reliable and loyal source of solutions. A soft smile found her lips as she looked up at the very familiar man. Perhaps she didn’t choose this space as randomly as she believes. “Primroses. My favorite -- thank you.” She smiled down at the plant, her fingers running gently over the leaves. As most witches do, she had a fondness for plants and all of nature’s creations. “No. It tastes like salt water mixed with that sugary iced tea powder, quite dreadful.” She chuckled, “Which is why I brought you this.” Reaching into her bag she pulled out a small tin of loose tea leaves. “It's an English blend, I highly recommend it. -- I brought a steeper too.” 

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         If you were looking for Jules, chances were you could find her at The Four Palms. The immortal didn’t need a place of employment, but the tasks and routine served as a beautiful distraction from the endless time on her hands. Rarely did anyone ever come through the doors asking specifically for her; she preferred it this way. The normal toil of the shop gave her an outlet of her time, knowledge and abilities. She was focused on the herbs, gently caring for the fragile plants as she prepared the ingredients for a pumice -- one of her favorites to concoct. She hummed a tune from long ago as she worked, traditional herbal magic reminded her of a much simpler time. Lost in her own doings Julienne was unaware of the customer standing on the other side of the counter.  The clearing of a throat cut the tune to a stop, Julienne froze, momentarily forgetting that she was not here solely for her own pleasure. “My apologies, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” She turned around with a smile, “what can I do for you?”

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lottiethewitch‌:

Jules had a certain attitude that made Charlotte relax almost instantly. Apparently, what she had heard about her was true; she was kind and patient, something you didn’t run into every day in that place. Thankful, Charlotte walked inside the apartment, almost surprised when she realized it was a normal one. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t expect inmortal witches to live like normal people, even if thinking back on it, how else would they live?

Charlotte didn’t wait much more and sat down at the couch, waiting for the host of the house to return. “You have a nice home.” She said, before looking at her. “Thank you, for being willing to speak with me. I don’t know why, I assumed inmortal witches were more…I don’t know, mean? Inmortality isn’t kind for some people, I believe.”

“Thank you,” Julienne looked around her home, it was modest and homely. Julienne was never one for materialistic possessions, time had proven that things and objects will fade but memories are what remain and should be cherished. Of course, she still had a few things she carried with her, but that was neither here nor there. “Would you prefer me to be mean?” she quipped, before setting down the tea. “I’ve come to find it is not an infinite life that makes people mean, but rather the infinite misfortunes they have, and will come to experience. An immortal life is a life comprised of loss.” She spoke from experience. She sat across from the young witch, taking a sip of her tea before speaking again, “What are your questions? I’m assuming you have many.”

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lottiethewitch‌:

Charlotte hold the small paper with the adress tight in her hand, almost regretting having knocked on the door in the first place. She was told this witch was kind, that she had nothing to worry about. But still, she did. It was a bold move to just appear at someone’s door, requesting something like this. Truth be told, however, she wasn’t sure this was what she was truly scared of, and not the prospect of learning magic with such a powerful witch. Perhaps it was a mix of both.

She didn’t have much time to think about this, however, or about anything really, as not too long after, the door in front of her opened. “Oh, hello! I’m Charlotte, Charlotte Erikson. You don’t know me, I, uh, got your adress from the place where you work at. They gave it to me.” She said, raising the paper for her to see, before continuing. She was nervious, and it showed. “You see, I was told you are a witch. I’m a witch too! I’m, a little young, and I never really got the right person to help me develop my powers properly. I, I know I’m asking too much. It’s not like I’m hoping you to take resposability of me from one minute to another, but I would really appreciate if you could, perhaps give me a few lessons about this whole…magic stuff?” Charlotte let out a nervious laugh. “God, I’m a mess right now. I’m sorry I’m bothering you.” 

She was tired, that was apparent. The last month had been a reprise from what seemed to comprise her entire existence. The liminal had been a welcomed break, she was beginning to feel like herself again. It had been so long she had nearly forgotten. The knock on her door was a strange interruption, the few here who know her know that she did not want to be bothered at night. She rose from the couch with a sigh, placing her book down. She doesn’t know who is needier, the living or the dead. 

The sight of the young, eager witch almost made her chuckle -- young was an understatement.  There were things that she would never forget, things that wouldn’t fade with time. The early stages of the craft was one of them, something that plagued her mind even now, twelve hundred years later. She could remember the confusion, the lack of understanding. The way it had felt to feel your life become something completely different from what you had hoped and planned without an ounce of control. The worst part was the sense that you were alone. Julienne already knew she would agree to at least speak to the young girl, her compassion always seemed to get the best of her. 

She stepped aside, a silent welcome to her apartment. “I’m sure you already know my name, but please, call me Jules. No one has called me Julienne for centuries.” There was no sense in hiding who she truly was, Julienne had the feeling that Erika already knew. “Sit, i’ll make us some tea. Just relax.” 

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humorgifs :

#about me

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NAME: Julienne “Jules” Cromwell  AGE: 25 / 1,244 SPECIES: Immortal Witch PRIMARY POWER: Necromancy/Resurgence SECONDARY POWERS: Healing / Pyrokenisis / Clairvoyance OCCUPATION: Medium at Four Palms YEAR OF ARRIVAL: 2018 RESIDENT FOR… one month. FACECLAIM: Lily James

t i m e  i s  a n  i l l u s i o n,  b u t  n o t  o u r  s t o r i e s…

When one has walked the earth for more than a millennium how is time measured? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? For Julienne, she stopped keeping time hundreds of years ago, before time even became a standardized unit. She has walked in the shadows and watched as societies were built, she watched them flourish and she watched them fall. As one of the Gatekeepers her duty was to aid the mortals rebuild, to guide them on the ever winding paths of life until they reached the final gate — her gate.

It always starts out simply.

In the house of Bertrard Cromwell, a daughter was born. But Julienne was a strange child — not obviously powerful like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to her imagination for companionship, she discovered that she does possess power — it was not so much tangible or physical like those of her siblings but instead it lurked in the shadows of another world. Stories soon spread of the young girl who could transcend the border between the living and the dead. The once simple daughter was now praised and prized.

They say death is the most powerful force on earth, nothing can stop the dark tide. But when it can be reversed it is found that people will go to great lengths to do so. Many flocked to her village with their deceased loved ones in tow, asking the young girl to reach into the dark and bring back the light of life. As her powers grew with age, Julienne was bound by duty more and more. Everything was put aside to aide the coven. She watched as other members moved on in their lives, even her younger siblings, having families of their own. She yearned for such normalcy, such connection to other people but she had a duty to perform. As a young girl, life was peaceful. Julienne was blissfully unaware of the cruel nature of the world and time. She still held dreams and hopes of her own, living her life in search of fulfillment. But that was never meant to be. By her twenty-fifth birthday the elders had made the decision that Julienne’s life – her power – was too vital to let slip into time’s cruel hands. And so the witches assembled and Julienne was reborn, seemingly even more powerful and now forever bound to her duty.

Years, generations, passed before an unbearable weight took over Julienne. Her life had finally come into view; she had become nothing more than an indispensable object to help quam the selfish needs of others. In a time when death was rampant her duties seemed as never ending as her life. The cost of immortality was now showing its true weight. So much had been taken from her, there was so much she would never have. It was here that she vowed she would reclaim her life, her power and herself. She would no longer let the chains of duty hang around her neck. Though still vibrant of youth, the years made her wise, stronger and capable of feats that would frighten even some of the most skilled witches. The once peaceful girl unleashed her might upon those who stood against her, scorching the ground she walked and exposing the hidden powers of the dead. But soon the guilt took over. That was not who she was or wanted to be. Driven by shame and determination Julienne fled to her realm of shadows to live amongst those who no longer could.

The shadows became her home. Here, Julienne would watch the lives of the mortals unfold, silently and patiently waiting until they would join her own space. For those who she deemed worthy, she would attend to them as soon as their spirits left the corporal body, aiding and guiding them in this new aspect of life. This realm soon became her own version of a gate, and she it’s keeper. For centuries she lurked, minding only herself, refusing to meddle in the mortal’s selfish needs and wants. Though in time, the need to aide those in true need overtook, and she stepped back into the light. Guided by her compassion and appreciation of the natural order Julienne refused her gifts unless necessary. She had her chance of a fulfilled life stolen from her against her will, she would not let that be the case for others who didn’t deserve it. In her own form of vigilante justice, Julienne watched for those who met the arms of death too soon and she ushered them back to the living.

For years, she lived like this; back and forth between the shadows and light, maintaining the natural balance between life and death. It seemed that her entire existence had been serving other people. And now she was tired. A millennium would do that. For the first time in a thousand years Julienne made a decision for herself, and completely for herself. The liminal space. It was a safe haven, an altered reality, a place where she could perhaps live truly for herself.

t e l l  m e,  a r e  w e  a  p r o d u c t  o f  w h o  w e  u s e d  t o  b e?

More than a millennium ago, Julienne Cromwell was a mere, human shadow of her current self. In her own words, her greatest qualities and most wicked flaws stem from the same place. She cares. Correction — she cares too much. Despite her acquaintance with death, Julienne yearns for the warmth of the living. She craves the connection that communities, magical or not, have and when she gets the chance to experience it she grows attached. There is something motherly about her, despite her seemingly young age, her compassion knows no limits. A thousand years on this earth has nurtured her patience into a strong and unyielding force, she has come accustomed to the knowledge or lack there of from humans and younger beings. However, her compassion can become a slippery slope. She cares about others, in fact she may care more than most but she expects the same compassion and care back. Frequently she is disappointed, and hell hath no fury like a scorned woman. She is a fair comparison to that of a river; calm, collected and peaceful on the surface, a source of nurturing and life. Yet, the same water can become dark, cold and churn so forcefully it becomes overbearing. As the saying goes, still waters run deep.

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London at First Light – Lily James on the spirit of My Burberry Blush