#Braids and Trims Medieval Style Trims

[deadmenandthedivine]

DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

chapter fourteen: what the lady beetle does

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, disassociation, thoughts of self harm and annihilation, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 3955

The first thing the princess did when she woke up that morning was check beneath her pillow, terrified the cloaked figure might have been the culprit behind the stones. There had been nothing in the Godswood the night before, but she could not take the risk. Her knight had searched her room but not her pillows. That morning, she checked every last one. Had the counter-curse not worked? Had it been too late? There were no more stones to be found. There was nothing beneath her pillow or any of the others. The dream had just been a dream — a nightmare. Although the small relief from a lack of looming runes was enough to let her breathe again, every hair on her body still stood straight up. Uneasy and on edge. Her limbs were tangled in her bed sheets just as they had been in her dream the night before as she fought to sit up properly and look around her chambers. Her heart pounded. Nothing looked out of place or disturbed; however, the feeling of eyes watching her every movement remained. She had felt the same way as Ser Gunthor had assisted her back to her chambers in the night, but she had been far too tired to worry about it. She glanced around a second time to find her room still empty. Nothing had changed. She successfully got out of bed on her second try. Her feet were still in her shoes, surprising her when her bare feet did not meet the ground. When she looked down, she found herself still dressed in her red evening gown too. Jewelry and all. Her maids knocked and entered soon after. They burst into giggles upon seeing her.

“You slept in your shoes and everything?” Adelyn smiled lovingly, “How were you comfortable?”

“Soldiers and knights do it, do they not?” The princess smiled.

“Aye and you, princess, are as tough as they come.” Noarysa joked.

“I am!” Maetilda nodded despite the maid’s sarcasm.

“You are!” Adelyn echoed as she began unlacing the princess’s shoes.

The two maids worked together to undress the princess before wrapping her in her housecoat and sitting her at the vanity. All with smiles on their faces. They brushed the knots and dirt from her hair before they began to weave it into the usual cascading style. From the speed at which they worked, it was clear that they were in a hurry. The princess took off her earrings, her rings, and her bracelet as they braided. But she could not get her necklace. She had hoped to save them time. That morning marked her sixth day at the Red Keep, and it felt as if she had been with her two maids for ages. Similar to her maids back at Dragonstone, she felt warm in their presence. Safe and looked after. But unlike her maids back home, she was oblivious to where their loyalties resided, and that was what kept her careful. Once her hair was done, Noarysa went to her wardrobe and pulled out a soft plum gown. It had a higher neckline than the red one from the night prior, puffed sleeves, and a full skirt that flared out beneath the bust. The hems and trims were decorated in blush pink and squash orange. Little ivory bows adorned the decorations. The princess selected her bronze citrine and sapphire jewelry to match. She was full of color, but not a single one clashed. At least not to her eye. The maids began to work at cleaning her chambers as Ser Eddrin came to collect the princess.

He gave her a warm smile as he held his arm out for her to take, “Ser Gunthor told me you had a cold evening.”

“He got me an extra blanket. I was not cold.” Maetilda smiled.

Ser Eddrin chuckled quietly as the princess took his arm. His creaking armor echoed down the hall as he escorted her to Rhaenyra’s chambers for breakfast. The princess’s eyes and limbs remained heavy and tired as they walked. The morning had come upon her quickly and she almost felt stuck in the events of the evening — the last two evenings. She did not understand what it all meant. The cloaked figure, the valley, the horse, the fall. It all felt so foreign and familiar at the same time. She wished Shrykos was near so they could go flying until they found the cliffs and hills of her dream. But just as her father had said the day before, Rhaenyra knew what she was doing when she made them travel by ship. Both the princess and the Rogue Prince were trapped in the Red Keep. In the castle of their ancestors that no longer felt like it was theirs. It was her sixth day at the Red Keep, and her life had been completely flipped onto its head. Rune binding, deception, marriage pacts, secret corridors, plotting, humiliation. It was as if she had been listening to a badly written book. What more would she encounter? What could possibly be worse? They made it to Rhaenyra’s chambers quickly. The anxiety in the princess’s veins set the pace quicker than normal. Two kingsguard stood at the entrance as usual. They smiled as they knocked and opened the door. The table seemed lively as she quietly stepped across the threshold. Jacaerys and Lucerys were already laughing. Joffery was haphazardly throwing words together to get his point across. Rhaenyra followed Joff’s story attentively as Daemon watched the group with pride. They all turned to Maetilda as she made her way toward the table and took her usual seat.

“There she is!” Lucerys teased, “The beautiful bride to be.”

“The prettiest in all the Realm.” Jacaerys chimed in.

“We have been blessed by the mere sight of you!”

“Like a star, plucked straight from the sky!”

“The brightest diamond!” 

“The twinkle in my eye!” The two boys' eyes filled with tears as they held back laughter.

“Make one more remark about my beauty.” The princess warned.

“You are very pretty, Til!” Joffrey interjected.

She could only sigh, “Thank you, Joff.”

Luke smirked as he opened his mouth again,“It’s going to take one beautiful lady to handle—“

“That is enough. Both of you. As far as I am concerned, you older three are still treading on thin ice.” Rhaenyra warned.

“Thin ice?” Maetilda gasped.

“For dinner the other night when we were,” Jacaerys glanced toward Joffrey before looking back at his sister, “disruptive.”

“I was only defending Luke!” The princess immediately barked in her own defense.

“Of which, you did wonderfully.” Daemon chuckled.

The princess nearly choked when she heard his words. Complete and utter disbelief. She nearly did not hear the conversation that followed as she questioned if she heard him correctly. If he had truly said she had done something well. Certainly he did not, but he had laughed. He spoke jovially. Did her ears deceive her?

“My favorite part was when you threw the carafe!” Luke muttered not so quietly.

“Til threw what?” Joffrey gasped.

“Nothing!” Rhaenyra pointedly exclaimed.

Jace and Luke looked down before taking big bites of their food to avoid talking. Joffrey took an innocent sip of his tea, clearly basking in the safety of being the baby of the Velaryon brothers. Both Daemon and Rhaenyra adjusted themselves in their chairs.

Rhaenyra cleared her throat before she opened her mouth to speak again, “I expect all three of you to be on your best behavior for the rest of our stay. Make amends with Queen Alicent’s sons. I will confiscate inheritances if I must.”

In unison, Jacaerys, Maetilda, and Lucerys nodded their heads shamefully. It was never fun being scolded by the King’s heir. The future Queen did not threaten or punish often. And so there would be no question when her fire did spew, it was well deserved. The three had acted like children at dinner. They had embarrassed themselves and their parents. Even if they were defending themselves. In doing so, they had almost done more harm than good.

“How was dinner with the Queen last night, Maetilda?” Rhaenyra calmly changed the subject.

“It was… the food was wonderful.” The princess smiled.

Her father leaned forward to listen closer while her stepmother fixed her brow suspiciously. Rhaenyra gave the princess a once-over with her eyes, “And how was the company?”

“The Queen said that she was looking forward to seeing you more.” Maetilda stated innocently.

“How lovely of her,” Rhaenyra smiled, not at all fooled, “What else did you speak of?”

“So many things. I can hardly recall them all,” The princess nervously laughed.

“The wedding hasn’t been called off yet.” Her father pointed out.

Jace and Luke laughed, but Maetilda knew what that really meant. He was not happy with her, but neither was Rhaenyra. To make one happy, she would undoubtedly have to upset the other. The thought filled her with panic. If she wanted to get through the day unscathed, she would have to be honest. In front of her stepmother.

“Dinner did not go well,” The princess confessed, “I believe there was a time when the Queen told me that I was lucky she did not have my tongue taken out.”

It was then Daemon’s turn to laugh, “Those Hightowers would love themselves a little silent bride.”

“You riled her up, didn’t you?” Rhaenyra fixed her glare on her husband who straightened in his chair.

“I only told her to do what was necessary.” He seethed.

“Necessary for what outcome?” She retorted.

“The best one for all of us.”

“Daemon, you will ruin everything.”

“The only thing I will ruin is Otto Hightower’s fucking plans.”

“Children, you may be excused.” Rhaenyra barked for the rest of them to leave as the tension between her and her husband grew, “Go bond with your uncles. Behave yourselves.”

Maetilda did not wait a moment longer before she practically ran from the room, nearly crashing into Ser Eddrin on her way out. The knight caught her by the arms but said nothing as she led them far away from the chamber doors. They did not cover their suspiciousness well. She practically dragged the aged knight into the first empty corridor she found. Her breathing was labored when they stopped. She had no choice but to take a moment to collect herself before even looking up at Ser Eddrin. With his back, he shielded her from where the end of the corridor they stood in met the main one. Her mind replayed breakfast on a loop. She had no doubt that her father and Rhaenyra were arguing at that very moment. She wondered if her father argued with his wife like he scolded her. She feared what would happen in that room. But not enough to go back. Her feet would not carry her in that direction. 

As soon as the princess caught her breath, she narrowed in on where she needed to go. They needed to move out of the open. She needed to get away from everyone, but did not want to be alone, “I wish to spend the day with Helaena.”

“Funny you say that, mi’lady,” Ser Eddrin smiled, “A certain white cloak happened to inform me that the Princess is in her chambers with her children and requested your company.”

“I never thank you enough.” She looked at the man like he had put the sun in the sky.

But the knight only chuckled and shrugged before replying, “He came to me. Told me she asked for you. I merely stood there.”

“You have my gratitude nonetheless.”

“Shall we?”

Mindful of the amount of stairs, the princess and her knight paced their journey to Helaena’s chambers. The corridors only grew busier after everyone broke their fast. She was stopped numerous times to be congratulated on her engagement. Every well wish felt wrong, as if each one were a farce. She thanked each one as politely as she could manage before excusing herself. While the script of it all started to become soothing, the whole charade quickly became infuriating. Just as she had guessed, many were condescending in tone. Most were. They looked down at her out of their inflated heads with cold eyes and poorly hid crocodile smiles. She was no fool. She saw right through their kind words. The Mootons, Lord Fossoway, Lady Graceford, the lot of them. By the time they had actually reached Princess Helaena’s door, the princess-by-title found herself wondering if she had gone mad. If she was seeing enemies in everyone. Or if the Red Keep was truly more dangerous than she had previously thought. With every lord and lady she encountered, Maetilda could not escape the piece of her father that lived in her mind. Never afraid to voice his opinion. Sometimes to the point where she could barely hear her own thoughts. Most times. She was not surprised to see one of the twins guarding Helaena’s door. Both kingsguard bowed their heads respectfully.

“Good morning, princess.” He sounded like Arryk, the one from the gardens.

The princess mustered her best smile, “Fine morning, Ser Arryk.”

“Ser Erryk.” He corrected, debunking her earlier suspicions.

“Ser Erryk.” She repeated, staring him down in an attempt to find the differences in his face from his brother’s. Yet even his own mother was known to struggle.

The door opened to a large bedroom chamber. The princess gave her sworn knight a parting nod before she entered. Not focused on a single hue but the entire spectrum of color, Helaena’s chambers were perhaps the most colorful of all the rooms within the Red Keep. Greens, yellows, reds, blues, purples, oranges, and everything in between. There was less furniture and more space for activity, but it was soon clear why. Two white haired children scurried in front of her as if she had been a permanent fixture. They did not even turn to look at her. Their giggles bounced off the walls. A tired maid chased after them. Twins. Maetilda still remembered the day they had received the raven with the news. A boy and a girl, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Born to Aegon and Helaena in the dead of night. The princess-by-birth had been young at the time, still was. The maester at Dragonstone had privately expressed his concern. That fortnight had been one of the first times the princess-by-title had been thankful for her father’s overbearing nature. At least she did not have to marry Aegon. Or produce children before her body had finished maturing. It was a fate no woman deserved, Helaena least of all. Maetilda got a strange feeling from watching her cousin’s children running about. She had never met them as babes. They were still quite young, and yet old enough to run and jump and play. A younger babe, old enough to have perhaps seen his third nameday, sat next to his mother as she pointed to different creatures in her needlework. He was white haired, just as the older ones, and already bore a resemblance to Aegon. Maelor. She could remember that raven too. Prince Daemon had been sour for three whole moons after it came. He drank from sun up to sun down, and grumbled tirelessly about the heir and spare that Otto planned to supplant him with. But they were all only children. Children that ran and played through their mother’s chambers. Children that still needed help feeding themselves. Children that held no responsibility or blame. What harm could they cause? Princess Helaena perked up when she noticed Maetilda, both grinned ear to ear. The King’s second daughter was dressed in a chartreuse gown with long paneled sleeves. Her neckline was high cut to her mother’s approval.

“Maetilda, I am so happy to see you!”

“It has been too long yet!”

“I know. I miss the days of our girlhood.”

“When we would sleep in each other’s beds.”

“Never went a day without seeing each other when we were in the same castle.”

“I miss those days.”

“Me too. But you must meet the children.”

“I must!”

The tired maid cornered and corralled the twins while Helaena readjusted the youngest’s outfit. As the older pair became aware of the unfamiliar presence, they quickly lost interest in their game of cat and mouse. Maetilda watched them with a smile. The maid instructed them on appearance and etiquette before moving aside to give them practice. Jaehaera rushed forward on the balls of her feet, a wild grin to match. The girl skid to a halt mere inches away from the princess-by-title.

“You are my aunt.” Jaehaera declared.

“Not yet, my love! She will be your aunt. First, she must marry Uncle Aemy.” 

“She will marry Uncle Aemy?”

Helaena nodded eagerly as the bride-to-be used every ounce of her strength to keep her face even. Staring at the unfamiliar children wide-eyed, her weight shifted from foot to foot.

“Hello, Jaehaera.” The plum-clad princess crouched down to the girl’s level, “It is lovely to meet you. My name is Maetilda.”

“Muh-til-da!” Jaehaerys enunciated from behind his sister.

“Maedilda!” Jaehaera cheered after him.

“Very good,” She giggled, already picturing the three moons they would spend together before she left.

Suddenly, it all felt real. Her engagement, her marriage, returning to her castle, producing heirs. Terrifyingly real. In three moon’s time, her life would begin to look like Helaena’s. She would be responsible for bearing children of her own — Aemond’s children. They would run and giggle and play through the halls and courtyards of Runestone. 

“Do you like lady beetles?” Jaehaerys inquired.

“I love lady beetles.” The princess confessed, “And butterflies. And earthworms… And silverfish.”

“I like earthworms!” Jaehaera exclaimed.

“They are so funny!” Maetilda replied.

“Funny, yeah!” Jaehaera giggled.

“Do you know what a lady beetle does?” Jaehaerys quizzed.

“No, I do not. Do you?” Maetilda shrugged

“Of course! They eat the bugs that eat the garden.” Jaehaera jumped at the answer.

“How honorable!”

Jaehaerys nodded, “Do you like dragons?”

“I love dragons very much. I have one!”

“Where?!” The twins gasped in perfect unison.

“She lives in a volcano!”

“Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, do you remember what a volcano is?” Helaena chimed in.

“A mountain with  fire!” The boy answered as his sister did a big, loud, and bold demonstration.

“Well done!”

“You are both so smart!”

“That was a compliment! What do you say to a compliment?” Helaena asked them.

“Thank you!” Jaehaera butted in before her brother could answer.

“Well done! You are welcome.” 

“Very good, indeed! Judyth, send for refreshments and then you may be excused until nap time.”

With a nod, the tired maid left the room. The door clicked behind her, leaving two princesses and three children. Helaena handed Maelor over to Maetilda before setting the older children up with a new game that involved their dolls. Maelor wiggled restlessly as he fought to join his siblings. The princess-by-title did not argue, promptly setting him down on his feet. He took off like a little winged bug. As soon as the children were lost in play, their mother returned to her previous seat. The giggles chorused in the background as the cousins smiled to each other.

“I am very glad you came.” Helaena grabbed Maetilda’s hands in her own.

“I am sorry I have not been around more.”

“No, you are newly engaged and this place is exhausting. Besides, I must be the one to apologize. When we saw each other in the Godswood, I was feeling…”

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yes, overwhelmed. There is so much I must tell you. And I do not know where to begin.”

“The words will come when they need to. It is alright.”

“But it is not. You are in danger. We all are. What I told you in the Godswood was only the beginning.”

“One eye closed, two fires sparked, the heads of three have long been marked. That was what you said. Are you telling me that more than three will die?” Maetilda asked, “Who?”

Helaena’s eyes filled with tears, “All of us.”

“And it shall start with the death of three?”

Helaena nodded.

“When? How much time do we have?”

Helaena shook her head; she did not know. Maetilda wrapped the other princess up in her arms. They sat in still silence for a moment. After a while, Jaehaerys brought his mother a doll to hold before he ran back to his siblings. Helaena held it close to her chest.

“I’m sorry, Maetilda.”

“For what?”

“What will happen.”

“Whatever shall happen, it will not be your fault.”

“I… I feel as though… I feel… dread.”

“I shall be here with you for at least three more moons. We can dread the future together.”

“You will leave and never come back whole.”

Maetilda’s heart sank, “Will my marriage truly be so terrible?”

A tnk, tnk, tnk signaled the opening of the chamber door before platters of food and carafes of teas and juices and wines were carried in by several hands. It was all laid out neatly, placed just high enough to be out of the children’s direct reach. But of course, all three ran over to their mother and future aunt, begging for bites. Helaena loaded a small plate up for all three of them. The siblings scrambled for a place to sit. Maelor settled on his future aunt’s lap while the twins took the floor. Their mother handed them their plates, and for once they were silent as they snacked.

“May I hand you anything, Maetilda?”

“I have just come from breakfast, but I would love some wine.”

Soon, both women were giggling with goblets of wine in hand. Maelor leaned back against the princess-by-title even after he had finished eating. The servants tidied up slightly before they bowed and left. Just as they had been directed to. It surprised the princess-by-title to see how matronly her cousin’s servants looked. It was almost suspicious how none of them seemed close in age to the woman they served. They looked old enough to have grown children, not nursing babes. Helaena was the King’s second daughter, wife to his first son — more appropriate maids could not be found? Maetilda drank deeply from her wine, careful to hold it out of Maelor’s reach when she was done.

“You are scared.” Helaena observed aloud.

The princess-by-title nodded, “Have been since I got here.”

“You are not going mad.”

“Did you hear about my behavior at dinner with Aemond and your mother?”

“He recounted the evening to me.” Helaena nodded, “Word-for-word.”

“Yet you think I am not mad?”

“A mad woman would have no reasoning behind her actions.”

Maetilda sighed, “‘Suppose you are right.”

Jaehaera tried to hide her yawn as she rubbed her eyes. Jaehaerys blinked slowly with heavy eyelids. The twins had been watching the two women the entire time. Maelor had gone limp with sleep somewhere in the middle of it all. His half-eaten plate had been forgotten on the seat cushion next to them.

It was Helaena’s turn to sigh, “It looks as though we should take a nap early.”

The twins immediately perked back awake in order to voice their dissent. As if the word alone was enough to give them a second wind. Their whines filled the room and awoke Maelor, who then began to cry. Helaena took her youngest back into her arms before calling for the wetnurses. More matronly maids filed in. Maetilda watched it all wordlessly, as if she were looking into a crystal ball that told her future.

“I shall see you once your family has left.” Helaena smiled to her cousin, “I will be busy with the little ones for quite some time.”

A/N: Maetilda and Helaena never get enough time together imo. But stress will do that to you. Miss Tilda is in here over her head! But this sixth day is not over yet!!! Just y'all wait!!!

TAGLIST: @marvelescvpe @snh96 @imsoshygirl @faesspace (if anyone wants added or removed, please just let me know!)

xoxo messy

[shadowqueen402]

Balan Wonderworld Outfits: Chapter 7

Here are all of the outfits in Chapter 7. Since this world is medieval themed, everyone is going to be wearing medieval outfits! Enjoy!

Leo Craig

A metallic redwood visor over his eyes, metallic redwood torso armor with a silver hemline and four redwood metal flaps over a black shirt with rolled up sleeves, redwood shoulder plates, metallic redwood gauntlets, silver metal gloves, a brown belt with a silver buckle, black leather pants and redwood boots.

Emma Cole

A pink and white medieval dress with bell sleeves and gold trimming, a black waist cincher, and magenta kitten heels. Her dress touches the ground and her hair is worn in a low braid.

Jose Gallard

A red peasant shirt with long sleeves, a black belt with a gold buckle on his waist, brown ankle-banded pants, and black medieval moccasins.

Fiona Demetria

A blue medieval dress with gold trimming, white over-the-shoulder long sleeves, a gold tiara with blue gems, and blue stilettos. She wears her hair in a low bun.

Yuri Brand

A peasant styled white shirt with puffed sleeves and a small black ribbon, a brown corset vest, a long magenta skirt with a white accent in the center, and indigo moccasins.

Haoyu Chang

An olive green cravat, a grey long-sleeved tunic, a black belt with a gold buckle, green pants, and brown moccasins.

Sana Hudson

A silver and light green visor with a cyan, oval-shaped gem and a gold hemline, a long-sleeved green shirt underneath a silver and light green coat-like torso armor that has gold trimming, silver gauntlets with cyan gems, silver metal gloves, a black belt with a gold buckle, dark green leather pants, and silver and light green metal boots. She no longer sports her bandana.

Cass Milligan

A white bonnet, a white dress with ruffled, elbow sleeves and a long black skirt, a fuschia corset with black strings, a white apron, and fuschia moccasins.

Cal Suresh

A gold crown with red jewels, a grey and white long-sleeved tunic, a red cape with white fur lining, a brown belt with a gold buckle on the waist, black pants, and brown boots with gold trimming.

Iben Bia

A gold diadem with light blue, rhombus-shapes gems, a purple juliet-sleeved dress with the cuffs being triangular and light blue lining on the collar, cuffs, and rim of the dress, and purple kitten heels.

Attilio Caccini

A jester's outfit which consists of a magenta and yellow jester hat, a magenta and yellow long-sleeved shirt with miniature bells on the rim, matching pants, black stockings, and magenta pointed shoes.

Lucy Wong

A gold tiara with emeralds, an emerald green dress with long bell sleeves and gold trimming, a white panel in the center, black lacing cord, a pair of emerald earrings, and green kitten heels. She lets her hair down.

Eis Glover

A gold viser with red accents and a red gem, a deep red long-sleeved shirt underneath a gold torso armor, gold gauntlets with red accents on them, gold metal gloves, a black belt with a silver buckle on the waist, deep red leather pants, and gold metal boots with red accents.

Bruce Stone

A mauve hat with a black feather, a mauve tunic with cream colored accents and gold trimming, a matching brocade, black pants, and tall black boots.

Act 3 Outfit (Specifically for Cal)

A black blazer over a white dress shirt, a red tie, black dress pants, and black dress shoes.

[justgarb]

Hello! I'm James of Rosenfeld, and this is a blog dedicated to garb, costuming, SCA, and other costumed nerd activities.

Originally intended for how-to guides and photosets for constructing my own kit, but it has evolved into something more.

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#tunic #coat

#dress #apron dress #gown

#belt #medieval belt

#cape #cloak #shawl

#bag #pouch #pocket

#hat #fur hat #hood #skjoldehamn hood

#pants #hosen

#winter wear #summer wear

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[winterapocalypse]

Winter Apocalypse chapter 41

The Intercontinental Team has arrived!

Roose Bolton returned to the shadows, and the boys continued their way down the corridors, towards the Slytherin common room.

Their feet clattered sadly on the black and silver carpet that completely covered the floor of the Slytherin wing corridors, trying to hurry despite the incessant headache since they had woken up. Who knows what had happened?

They came to an enormous door, made of wood lacquered in a deep, dark green, at least twice as tall as the massive and powerful Randy, and edged with silver that glittered eerily in the green and silver flames of the Dragonglass candles that hung on it. Those candles were difficult to light even for an experienced wizard, and impossible to put out. The obsidian of which they were made had a sharp and pointed appearance, black glass and created by dragons millennia ago, and their extraordinary firepower now extinct.

Randy and Theon walked through the door, opened with a special spell that only they Slytherins knew, and stepped into the common room teeming with students.

The room was a huge open space, also barely lit, in pure Slytherin Gothic style.

The enormous windows, in medieval Gothic style, were tall and narrow, with an imposing and slender shape, and the glass was decorated with colored drawings depicting the great deeds of Slytherins in the history of Westeros. The windows were so tall they reached the ceiling, several feet above their heads and black as a stormy night sky, from which hung enormous chandeliers of black obsidian. Each chandelier, with elegant and refined and at the same time raw shapes, carved into that sharp and dangerous stone - like Slytherins, after all.

The silver and green flames of the candles hanging from the enormous chandeliers helped shed light in that immense, majestic and gloomy room, aided by the various fireplaces, which in turn shone with green and silver lights, and gave off the typical aroma of the Hall, strong and dark, to which Randy and Theon had become accustomed by now: the burning embers under the fire crackled and seemed to scream, while the wood of the Tree of Death, which grew only in the Suicide Forest and took root only in blood, burned.

Near the fireplace, set into the wall and enclosed by large black basalt bricks, Emily was sitting, elegant and beautiful and with skin as pale as the moon and hair darker than her abyss. Emiyl that fateful day wore her hair in two long black and green braids that fell to the sides of her neck adorned with a black leather collar and various silver chains with a black bat-shaped pendant hanging with an emerald gem in the Heart. The black gothic and lace dress she wore was thick and heavy, to protect her from the cold of that day, and on her legs were long thigh-high boots with several buckles and chains hanging from them. She wore heavy black makeup around her eyes, covered by red contact lenses, and her black coat was floor-length and trimmed with lime green ribbon on the back and sleeves, intertwining into various flakes.

As always, she was surrounded by her large group of friends and her inseparable boyfriend, and they were amiably discussing by the warm multicolored fire. The temperatures had dropped further in those days when Randy and Theon had inexplicably missed.

Before Theon could get close to his impossible love Emily, all the students started shouting.

Sheamus, who had remained silent and aloof in a corner the whole time, wrapped in his beige coat and with his nose glued to his emerald green cell phone - probably texting with his best friends, locked in the Ravenclaw common room -, faced the windows, and pulled aside a dusty, dark green curtain that covered one of them.

Outside, a cloud of flying brooms of every color fluttered around the castle towers with unmistakable dexterity.

"The Intercontinental Team has arrived!!" shouted Sheamus, who for the first time was smiling and giggling like a little kid.

The Slytherins, all together, poured from the common room into the gloomy corridors of their part of the house, following the flying brooms that seemed to have landed in the back garden of the castle, where the Quidditch matches were usually held.

Randy and Theon were dragged by the sea of students to the back garden, where the Ravenclaws were already sitting on their personal bleachers.

The Slytherins sat in their designated stands, the ones alongside the Ravenclaws and opposite the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[doll-princesse]

Myne (previously Willa) arrived today! I removed her old wig, gave her a bath with a Mr Clean eraser, and fixed her hair. I don’t have the proper glue for the wig yet, but it stayed on all through the styling, so it may be fine for now.

She needs her eyebrows repainted to match her wig, but her eyes are such a perfect match to the illustrations!

It was very hard to tie off her braids. I wished I had four hands lol. It still needs to be straightened and trimmed, and for the life of me I could not give her bun. Still the wig is a great color match too and very thick. This wig is from ZaZouCustomDolls and has a tan wig cap so that it doesn’t stain vinyl doll heads (it’s intended to be a Smart Doll wig).

Myne absolutely loves books!! She is the titular bookworm in Ascendance of a Bookworm. She was completely ecstatic to be presented with a copy of A Little Princess and Volume 1 part 4 of the Junior version of the Ascendance of a Bookworm light novel series.

Her dress is a handmade one I brought from Austin Craft Reuse a few years back. Myne is pretending it is borrowed from her friend, Frieda, like when she stayed over once.

Myne is an isekai light novel/anime protagonist so her backstory is a bit off the rails tbh. She used to be Motosu Urano, and had just graduated college and gotten her dream job as a librarian, when she was reincarnated into the body of a sickly peasant girl in a medieval fantasy world. She has all her memories of her past life and is devastated to find out that she, as a peasant, cannot even dream of affording parchment or ink, let alone expensive, hand scribed books. Myne resolves that she will just have to make books herself. She gains other objectives as the story progresses, from creating plant based paper and her own business, to improving the lives of orphans, to founding an Italian restaurant, to commissioning a teenage craftsman to make her a printing press, and all the while Myne stuns everyone around her with things we would think are mundane, like shampoo, crocheted flowers, scented candles, playing cards, and picture books.

Being set in a medieval fantasy world with its own culture there are some parts that make us as modern readers go 😬 (Btw M/F shippers pls dni. Ty!) but the good parts of it are sooo good and the world-building is just chef’s kiss perfect. I’ve been obsessed with it since the first season of the anime started airing in 2019.

[masquerade-story]

Chapter 5 - Commencing Plan

"Earth has magic too. Alchemy and enchantments. Chemistry and technology. Same things, different names." Crystal spoke slowly as she examined the cloth material in her hands, checking for tears or weak points in the weave.

Grey pumped his fist, a triumphant look on his face. "I knew it! No way that backflipping robot was natural science."

"Science is the study of the world around you. It doesn't cancel out the existence of magic, it just helps to understand its rules better."

"Listen here, little miss know-it-all."

"I don't know it all, just more than you."

"Hey!"

Crystal grinned, finishing her examination without sparing an extra glance for the outraged Grey stomping his foot at her side.

"That's a low bar some days," Rayne said with an exaggerated sigh, then promptly ducked as Grey chucked a pillow at her face.

"Lils!" Grey whined, draping dramatically over his sister's lap, interrupting her own costume examination. "They're bullying me!"

"The truth hurts sometimes dearest," Lillian muttered, much to her twin's dismay. He recoiled away as though she'd flung him, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in distress.

"Betrayal! Mine own blood doth betray!"

"My point," Crystal continued, using a needle and thread to tighten up a bit of beaded tape on a hem that came loose. "Was that when I said magic exists on this world, I mean I don't know what form this world's magic is going to take, so we should be careful until we understand more. It may be familiar, like chemistry and technology, or it could be something more fantastical, like what that Eater pulled on us. Until we know the rules, we shouldn't be reckless."

"What if being reckless is part of the rules?"

"Then we'll find out soon enough and adjust our course of action."

"I hate that you have an answer for everything."

"Then stop asking questions."

Crystal and Grey stuck out their tongues at each other while Lillian giggled, and Rayne shook her head at the foolishness of it all. "Children, please."

"You're the youngest one here!"

"Hard to tell by looking, huh?" Rayne shrugged. She wasn't nearly as useful with sewing, so she'd taken to tying on little chimes and ribbons to decorate her bodhrán since her large acoustic kit was much too large and bulky for their purposes. The small frame drum, just a bit over a foot in diameter and only four inches deep, was much easier to carry and play.

When they brought their main instruments for the music video, they brought along a few supplementary instruments to use for the mixing as well. Actual recording was going to happen in a proper studio, but sometimes having them around and playing them when practicing could spark more natural inspiration than trying to force it during a recording session.

So in addition to Crystal's small harp, Grey's bouzouki, Lillian's electric keyboard and Rayne's acoustic drum kit, they also brought along macho bongos, a bodhrán, a tambourine, a fiddle, a bombard, an ocarina, a zither, enough bell bangles for the four of them, and a kalimba which Lillian was unnaturally proficient with. None of the instruments were particularly large, so it was easy to fit them in alongside everything else in the hand cart. Especially the kalimba - a hand-sized wooden board with attached staggered metal tines, which made an ethereally charming resonating sound when played despite its minuscule size.

"Rayne's got her drum, I'm taking my bouzouki, Lils is bringing..."

"Kalimba."

"Right, right. Coco, which instrument are you grabbing?"

Crystal snipped the thread with her teeth after tying a tight knot. "Since Lils is bringing the kalimba, I'll go with the fiddle."

"Ooh, are we gonna do a jig?"

"Maybe. We have to see what the climate's like in town."

"Climate is cold, Coco. There's snow."

"Emotional climate, Goofus! If something terrible happened recently, if there's an illness going around or a famine or what have you, it'd be inappropriate to run in with a nice cheerful Stick Across the Hob."

"Ah, Morrison's Jig. A classic."

"We can play it if people are friendly to us. Who knows, maybe they hate folk music. There was a time in our own history where the only socially appropriate music was religious hymns, you know."

"Gross."

"Right? So again, we just have to be careful."

"And then once they like us we can do fun songs, right?"

"Maybe slow tempo drinking songs or instrumental sea shanties to uh, test the waters."

"Har de har. Lyrics?"

"I really, really, extremely thoroughly and tragically doubt they'll speak English or any of the other languages we can sing in, and they might be alarmed by foreign languages. Classic orchestral music might be our best bet, honestly."

A potentially insurmountable language barrier was part of the reason their little group hemmed and hawed about heading to town. On the one hand they definitely needed more information about the world, but on the other hand, walking in without any knowledge or method of communication was a terrifying prospect.

So they did what they all did best, and procrastinated productively. The costumes were a good start, but they weren't sturdy enough to withstand frigid winter winds since the things were entirely cosmetic. Lillian proposed they somehow create thicker linings for their clothes, and Grey suggested they make use of the house's ability to restore items in order to do just that. But for that to work, they'd have to understand how it worked.

That night they waited with bated breath after destroying a single pillow, shredding it to bits as a sacrifice to the experimental gods of magic science. As soon as midnight ticked over on the household clocks, a new pillow appeared in its original place on its appropriate bed, and the shredded remains of the sacrificed pillow were still laying sad and limp on the floor.

"Infinite pillow glitch," Grey had whispered with delight, setting the other three to helpless giggling at his dumb joke.

The next day was spent ruining disposable objects around the house to various degrees and moving them around in order to determine the magic house's threshold of accounting damage and item 'respawning' limits. Some items were completely replaced, some were merely repaired, items from outside the property didn't count, and everything else had different thresholds for what counted as damage and what didn't.

While everyone was running around wrecking their house and generally having a good time doing magic science, Crystal put an empty jar outside of the fence to sit overnight. After the reset that night, it was fully replaced complete with its original contents, while the original empty jar remained outside of the property wedged into the snow.

Crystal smiled to herself with this new discovery, and put several small jars of preserves outside the fence in one of the small wooden crates she found in the cellar, covered with a thick towel to help insulate the glass.

"What were you getting up to?" Grey asked, as she stomped back into the house rubbing her arms to fight off the winter chill.

"Wishing we had warmer clothes," Crystal sighed, the mischievous glint in her eyes telling Grey he wouldn't get any answers yet. "Or at least pajamas with sleeves."

"Plotting something sinister?"

"Maybe."

"Rock on. Lemme know if I can help."

"Of course."

With their new knowledge regarding item respawn rules, they set about tearing more pillows and sheets into raw materials for upgrading their silly stage costumes into something functional, and copied the costumes into several spare sets for each of them just in case.

The costumes were inspired by fantasy medieval fashion and Renaissance faire finery, all four virtually identical in styling. Surcoats with silver bead tape and embroidery, high collar tunics with voluminous bishop sleeves, canvas cloaks with deep hoods, leather bracers, leather boots, leather belts with ring clasps, assorted leather bags, gloves, and leggings. Aside from the white tunic, everything was black with silver embellishments such as bead tape and braided fabric trims, or embroidery that shimmered in the light. The cloaks also sported little silver jingling bells attached along the hem, matching decorative bells on the boots and bags.

Most importantly, each of them had a unique Venetian masquerade mask with an attached beaded black face veil. The intricate, ornate masks had little bells dangling from loops on the sides, and were decorated with gemstone accents around and above the eyes; each member of Aos Sí Echtrae used a different gemstone for their stage name to capitalize on all the 'Fairy Rock' jokes they could make.

Plus, Crystal was already named after a shiny rock, so it was convenient all around.

"How are we gonna make these clothes warmer?" Grey asked, holding up his surcoat and raising an eyebrow in Lillian's direction.

"Quilting." Lillian said, gesturing with her hands to try and pantomime what she meant. "Gonna create pocket insulation layers using sheets, fill them with cotton and feather down and foam and whatever else we have to use. Then sew the pocket insulation layer in the middle of the original costume layer and an inner lining, to make the clothes warm without sacrificing their aesthetic!"

"The cloaks too?"

"The cloaks especially. They're already a strong sturdy material and have been water sealed, insulating them will basically turn them into actual quilts to shield us from the wind. In fact, I'll probably use cloak copies to make waterproof pants, since insulating leggings is a bit hard thanks to their thin material..."

"Too bad we can't make better boots too," Crystal sighed, glancing out the window. It hadn't stopped snowing since they arrived, and though most of the layers didn't completely stick, there was still a foot of snow outside they'd have to slog through to reach town. If the weather continued, they would have to put off the visit until some of that snow melted off.

"I'll break the path for you guys," Rayne said, flexing a powerful bicep. "No worries. We should still wait until it stops snowing, though. Walking through bad weather always sucks, even more so if it's over a big distance."

"Remembering high school?"

"God, that hill was brutal."

"Hey, everyone gets to help out with this!" Lillian said, pointing at the other three who were subtly edging toward the door during their conversation.

"I can't sew," Rayne quickly protested, and Lillian held up a finger to shush her.

"The lining doesn't have to be sewn pretty, the stitches just have to be strong. We need to make several copies of the belts, I want to repurpose them into something else... And I wanna keep an original copy of the costumes as well as have several sets of each so this is gonna take a few days worth of resetting to complete. Oh! Rayne, you can find big branches to make into walking sticks, the ground will be uneven under the snow and we don't wanna trip."

"Yes ma'am..."

Under Lillian's watchful eye, everyone got to work on different tasks in order to prepare for their first visit to another world's town, feeling a combination of trepidation and excitement in their hearts.

------

"Hey guys? There's uh. There's something weird." Rayne's voice echoed down the hall, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps as she hurried toward the living room where the others were gathered around the finished costumes and enjoying the last of their breakfast.

"What in the... Is that... Is that a telescope?!" Grey asked incredulously as Rayne rounded the corner with something large and heavy in her arms.

"I was checking out the study and found it in one of the cabinets. So, the study has that windowed alcove bit that sticks out from the side of the house, right?"

"Yeah, like a breakfast nook but for books. Book nook!" Grey grinned, switching his attention from the costumes to the big brass telescope that Rayne was hurriedly setting up in front of the largest living room window. "This thing is ancient! There's no way this isn't some priceless antique or something!"

"Yes yes it's very cool and belonged to a former trade ship navigator about a hundred years ago don't ask how I know that I'm not sure either I understand why this weirds Coco out now, but that's not important!" Rayne wheezed, peering through the eyepiece and adjusting the focus before stepping away. "Look at the town."

Grey peeked through first, too excited about the telescope itself to wait much longer. He stared in silence for a good long moment, then frowned and stepped away to give Lillian room. "That's... You're right, that is weird. But I can't quite put my finger on why... I mean, aside from the architecture itself? But something else is bugging me..."

"It's hard to see detail from here even with the telescope, but I think some of them had glowing symbols decorating them?" Lillian said with a shrug after she had her turn. "They're pretty, and unusual for sure. Either magic or electricity, but I hope it's magic. That'd be cool!"

Crystal took her turn last, automatically touching her face to lift up the glasses that she no longer had to wear. She gave a soft laugh at finding her face naked, shook her head, and peered through the eyepiece.

The buildings were indeed strangely pretty, smooth white or silver constructs with colorful glass roofs, in sleek appealing shapes that more suited a science fiction setting rather than fantasy. Some had glowing symbols etched under arched windows or in rows along walls, but the light was dim and flickering, and it was impossible to tell from afar what shape the symbols had.

"The town has a uniform layout," Crystal said quietly, furrowing her brow. "It's a planned city. Wide roads on a grid, a perfectly arched wall surrounding the whole thing except where the harbor is. The tallest building is in the middle, might be a palace or castle? But... There's no people."

"Wait, what?!" Lillian exclaimed while Grey snapped his fingers in realization.

"That's it! Even though it's winter, there'd still be people moving around and working and stuff, right? But those roads are totally empty! No cars or wagons or pedestrians or nothing."

Crystal swung the telescope around, peering into the empty harbor, then past that toward the horizon where puffy white sails broke the barrier between sea and sky. "Ah, the ships... The city is really sleek and almost futuristic, but those ships are..."

Grey nudged Crystal aside to steal the eyepiece again, bouncing his leg with excitement. "Yo! Those are some real nice maritime vessels, my friends! Four-masted wooden masterpieces, and is that mizzenmast lateen-rigged? Squared raised stern, that's a nice prominent booty on those ships for sure. Those big boys are either carracks or galleons, or whatever they're called in this world. Whew, they're real beauties!"

"Was it an evacuation?" Lillian asked, concern coloring her voice, but Grey shook his head.

"Doubt it. The sails are torn and mended all over the place, and I think I see minor hull damage on the ones up close, but those lads are definitely pointed toward the town, and resting in a recognizable formation at that. They've been through a long journey to get here specifically, I think. In fact..." Grey swung the telescope, adjusting the focus as he went, searching to and fro until he spotted what he was looking for.

"They were further away when we first got here," Rayne said, holding up her fingers in a little pinching gesture. "The sails were like, this big on the horizon."

Grey nodded, then exclaimed aloud. "Aha! Found a pinnace! I dunno why it took them so long to approach, but they're moored in the deeps now, not sheltering in the harbor. And there, by the town wall! There's a little camp. Looks like... Ten people? They used a small pinnace boat to approach so it's probably a landing party scouting the area to see if it's safe to approach."

"I didn't see people! Let me see!" Rayne bumped Grey aside with her hip, stealing the telescope back. "There they are! Oh, they're still unloading the boat."

"It was still snowing pretty hard until like, today. They probably only just sent the team out." Grey said, and Rayne nodded in agreement.

"Looks like it. Hmm... Their clothes do look a little like our costumes, I think? They're tiny colorful blurs, but I think I see a couple people in cloaks, and possibly armor? Using our costumes is probably the best idea after all."

"But now things have gotten a bit more complicated," Crystal muttered, drumming her fingers on her bottom lip as thoughts tumbled around in her mind. "There's no permanent settlement yet. For some reason that city is empty, and we don't know why. The city looks more advanced than anything the people in wooden ships would be capable of making, no matter how nice the ships are, so they probably aren't the same civilization. If they have that many ships, are they colonizers? Are there natives to this land we need to worry about? How would they see us if we, as strangers who don't even speak their language, suddenly walked up while they're trying to settle an apparently empty foreign city?"

Grey and Lillian exchanged glances, while Rayne turned from the telescope and placed a hand on her hip. "Coco. Relax."

"How can I relax? If they're not friendly we're probably boned! They'll definitely come explore the forest for resources and they'll find us and-"

"Crystal!"

Crystal flinched as Rayne grabbed her by the shoulders and gave a gentle shake, bringing her back to her senses. She hadn't even realized she'd hunched over and started scratching at the delicate pale flesh of her arms, bright red tracks screaming their distress under her fingernails. She shivered, forcing her clawed hands to relax, and took a deep breath. "Ah... S-sorry, I... I just..."

"Does it feel dangerous?" Lillian asked, her voice calming Crystal's nerves with its serenity.

She thought a moment, then pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No. It doesn't feel dangerous. I'm just... Worried, I think. Anxious. There's so many unknowns..."

"If they're gonna find us anyway, let's go to them on our own terms," Grey said, giving Crystal's face a gentle tap with his knuckles. "Right? We readied the costumes anyway, and Rayne whittled us some fine walking sticks."

"I even polished them."

"See? She polished them, Coco."

"There was wood lacquer in the maintenance closet."

"Wood lacquer, Coco!"

"Alright, alright!" Crystal threw up her hands in defeat, struggling in vain to hide the growing smile on her face. "You win. Let's get dressed and go make first contact."

"The masks are mandatory!" Grey said, grabbing his off the living room table. "If we're gonna be a minstrel group we gotta look the part!"

"I finished the slings for your instruments, so you can carry the cases on your back under the cloaks. Should make it less of a strain to lug them through the snow." Lillian looked proud as she showed off the repurposed leather belts, carefully measured to fit each of them and evenly distribute the weight of the heavy cases across their torsos. "My kalimba is small enough to fit in a bag so I felt like this is the least I could do to help."

"You're so great Lils," Grey sighed, giving his twin a grateful hug.

"I'll go get the sticks," Rayne said, running upstairs.

Meanwhile, Crystal rolled her eyes and heaved a despondent sigh. "Man... I have to wear actual clothes again..."

"It's too cold to be a nudist, Coco."

"I'm not a nudist, I'm just texture sensitive!"

"You'd be a nudist if it was socially acceptable."

"Eh... Debatable. I'm kinda lumpy."

"No you're just soft and huggable."

"Which makes me lumpy. Oh well, at least the costume materials feel nice." Crystal sighed once more, grabbing her outfit off the living room table. "Alright, everyone turn off their vision for a second."

"We have all seen you naked, Crystal."

"We all took turns washing your back when you went through physical therapy, Crystal."

"Also this is the living room."

"Nudist."

"Exhibitionist."

"Can't hear you guys I'm already naked!" Crystal stuck out her tongue as, contrary to her statement, she headed down the hallway toward the bathroom in order to change in privacy.

"Who's naked?" Rayne called down the stairs, accompanied by the thumping sound of four walking sticks repeatedly hitting the banister as she descended.

"Everyone except you!" Grey called back, his voice muffled as he pulled the blouse over his head.

"I had to get the sticks, no one told me we were having a nudey party!"

"Nudey parties are better fun with guests that aren't basically your relatives," Lillian grumbled, and Rayne nodded as she dumped the walking sticks on the nearest sofa.

"Eh, true. No offense, you guys are our unofficial adopted siblings."

"No no, it's mutual. You both are our sisters, seeing you lot naked does not rustle my jimmies in the slightest."

"Completely unrustled?"

"Not even a jostle."

"Damn."

"Wait, why are we unofficially adopted? There's no birth records in this world for us. We can just be siblings and no one will ever be able to prove otherwise."

"Shit, you're right! Okay, you're all adopted by me now. You can call me Mama."

"Like hell we will, you're the youngest!"

"Respect your elders, young man!"

Crystal laughed to herself as their voices echoed faintly through the closed bathroom door, then focused on getting dressed. Her costume was modified further thanks to a personal request she'd made, adding a long black wrap skirt that went to her ankles to be worn over the leggings. She also added a silver sash around the waist and under the belt, made using one of the spare bedsheets.

She didn't mind pants so long as the material was nice, but she preferred the swish of long skirts and dresses because it felt more fun, and if she had to wear clothes anyway they might as well be layered and interesting. Just so long as the inner layer actually touching her body was a nice comfortable fabric!

Lillian made the skirt match the rest of the outfit using bead tape and braided fabric, and liked the resulting skirt so much she added a shorter skirt and some frilly modifications to her own outfit. Then Grey wanted some fancy embellishments and dangling cloth bits to look more dramatic, so in the end only Rayne kept the original design.

"We look amazing," Grey said with a delighted sigh as everyone gathered together in the living room once more to don their masks.

"Are the masks really necessary?" Lillian mumbled as she tugged on the gossamer veil, causing the beaded decorations woven into the fine material to jingle and shimmer. "I mean... What if not being able to see our faces scares them, or makes them suspicious?"

"Then we can take them off?" Grey said with a shrug, slinging the shoulder strap of his instrument case over his arm before settling his cloak. "But I think it adds to our mystique as wandering minstrels, and we look fantastic rather than threatening. Plus, they're the ones landing near our house, right? We're the ones living here. For all they could know, it's culturally inappropriate to walk around with naked faces!"

"We'll have to get pretty close to know for sure," Crystal said. After a moment's thought, she took out her hairclip and left it on the coffee table, allowing her long blonde hair to tumble free in the brief moment before she put up her hood. She'd spent enough time in cold climates to know long hair was best left protecting one's neck from cold air. "We'll watch their body language as we approach. If they seem hostile, we'll back off. In the meantime, we should bring some food. It's a long hike."

Everyone agreed, filing into the kitchen to pack snacks and sandwiches into their bags. Crystal tucked a few jars of preserves into hers, bringing only those and a couple sandwiches instead of cramming the space with small packs of miniature cookies and potato chips like everyone else. Her choice of foodstuff went unnoticed, since everyone else was busy playing Tetris trying to fit their chosen assortment of snacks into relatively small bags.

Once everyone felt prepared enough for their journey, they took a moment to brace themselves, each grabbing a homemade walking stick, then stepped out of the house into the snow.

[halcyonsteppe]

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[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

Ragnall McKinney *Supporting character.

Voice Claim: (Ciaran Hinds) https://youtu.be/OPxuoX_1MRw?t=18s (Right click on links and open in new tab)

Partner(s): None Parents: No longer alive. Kids: Several. Age: Ancient. Height: 179cm Body type: Muscular, but not too buff, has a small bubble butt and pretty muscular/thick thighs. Eye color: Golden/Honey Classification: (Immortal) Demon Known powers: Possession, Levitation, Necromancy ( The power to utilize magic involving the dead) Resurrection (The power to bring the deceased back to life) Teleportation (The ability to move instantaneously from one location to another without physically occupying the space in between) Poison Generation (The power to create/generate variety of poisons.) Soul Absorption (The power to absorb souls and utilize them in some way.)

About: Contemplative, Genuine, Kind, Intelligent, Observant, Protective, Sentimental, Rational, Empathic, Courageous, Open-minded, Adventurous, Confident, Flexible, Humble, Honest, Fair, Logical, Friendly, Generous, Respectful and Balanced. ~ Sexuality straight, but doesn’t mind gay activities once in a while. ~ Has several tattoos, including: Right arm full sleeve Viking theme with Vegvísir right below his shoulder (Vegvísir is an Icelandic magical stave intended to help the bearer find their way through rough weather, often used by Vikings)   In fact all of Ragnall’s tattoos are of ‘Viking theme’, like the two Viking hounds on his chest, Thors Hammer on his back, a hound sigil on his right foot and dragons on his left leg. ~ He loves nature and spends as much time in it as possible. ~ He’s very social, but loves alone time. ~ Irish. ~ Has a battle scar under right eye which was given to him by his first wife, when she switched sides in battle after she fell in love with Ragnall’s sworn enemy. ~ Always smells of herbs, such as Basil, Lemon Balm, Thyme, Rosemary, Sage and Fennel. ~ Excellent with both sword, ax and bow. ~ Is pretty good at common and some uncommon witch craft, but doesn’t consider himself a witch. ~ Is a great cook. ~ Is an excellent horseback rider. ~ Used to be an actual Viking and that’s where he got some of his tattoos. ~ Used to be the Captain of a very large Viking ship fleet. ~ Huge beer drinker and loves to hang out at pubs. ~ Very family-oriented. ~ Never shaves! NEVER! But he keeps his beard at a certain length. ~ Loves Irish music, horses, dogs, his family/clan, beer, pubs, getting drunk, loud music, pub brawls, pub crawls, sailing, the sea, the ocean, home cooked food, grilled meat, juicy steaks and harmonica music. ~ His style is Irish? With a dash or Viking? One gif to describe him:

Collum McKinney *Supporting character.

Voice Claim: (Kevin McKidd) https://youtu.be/owPupwzbClo?t=37s (Right click on links and open in new tab)

Partner(s): None Parents: Father diseased, unaware of mother’s whereabouts Kids: None Age: Ancient. Height: 200cm Body type: Muscular, Pretty buff, but with a slimmer torso. Eye color: Bright green with some specs of dark brown. Classification: (Immortal) Demon Known powers: Possession, Psychic Navigation (The power to track people/objects with one’s mind and/or create mental maps of an area) Weapon Manipulation (The ability to manipulate weapons) Enhanced Crafting (The ability to craft weapons, armor, items, artifacts, statues, etc. flawlessly.) Telekinesis (The power to manipulate objects/matter with their mind.) Illusion Manipulation (The power to manipulate illusions) Invisibility, Unhealing (The power to undo healed wounds, injuries and diseases) Curse Inducement ( The ability to place a curse on anyone or anything.) Death Inducement (The power to cause death, either instantly or after certain time.)

About: Contemplative, Observant, Protective, Sentimental, Logical, Alert, Calm, Clear-Headed, Firm, Forthright (direct) Intuitive, Orderly, Principled, Fair, Serious, Tolerant, Proud, Strict,  Reserved, Focused, Responsible, Self-reliant and Stoic. ~ Sexuality unknown. He’s very religious in his own ways and has never actually had sex with anyone, nor felt strong enough attractions to want to. ~ Is from the Scottish side of the McKinney clan.   ~ Has a large Celtic cross tattoo on his back. ~ He loves nature and spends as much time in it as possible. ~ He’s a loner, and doesn’t talk much around people. ~ Has multiple battle scars on his face, from when his father tried to kill him in battle, when he was just a teen. ~ Excellent at both sword and ax fight. ~ Pretty thick Scottish accent, which he tends to tone down when he speaks to strangers. ~ Always smells of Cedar Wood or warm metal. ~ Is a very skilled blacksmith. ~ Dislikes large crowds. ~ Is a great cook. ~ Is an excellent horseback rider. ~ Reads a lot. ~ Has a great and smooth singing voice. ~ Never shaves. But trims his beard every day as it grows super fast. ~ Loves sunrise and always gets up early enough to watch it, solitude, cooking, reading, Whiskey, beer, mead, coffee, working on iron, horses, dogs, nature, bonfires, winter, thunder, quietness and minding his own business. ~ His style is somewhat Viking/Medieval-ish?

One gif to describe him:

Declan McKinney *Supporting character.

Voice Claim: (John Hannah) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EOLjdlecESU (Right click on links and open in new tab)

Partner(s): None Parents: Alistair Laird & Roisin McKinney Kids: None Age: Ancient. Height: 177cm Body type: Muscular, Pretty buff, but with a slimmer torso. Eye color: Honey Classification: (Immortal) Demon Known powers: Possession, Teleportation (The ability to move instantaneously from one location to another without physically occupying the space in between) Intangibility (The ability to pass through physical matter) Energy Blast (The ability to release energy on a specific target area.) Disease Inducement, Despair Inducement, insanity inducement.

About: Charismatic, Confident, Humorous, Open-minded, Fun-loving, Optimistic, Friendly, Outgoing, Flirtatious, Spontaneous, Competitive, Outspoken, Cheeky, Sarcastic, Stubborn, Irresponsible , Argumentative, can be a bit blunt, independent, Insulting (but mostly for fun) Morbid, Perverse, Strong-willed and Flexible. ~ Sexuality Pansexual, Zoophilia, and pretty much any other Parahilia out there! ~ Half Irish half Scottish, his dad being the Scottish one. ~ Has multiple tattoos in Celtic/Viking style. ~ Speaks with very thick Scottish accent and uses a lot of Scottish slang, specially really horrible cuss words. ~ His name means ‘full of goodness’.   ~ Has long beard he braids in multiple braids. ~ Typically smells of warm, spicy-sweet Opium as he smokes a lot of it, although it has no effect on him, he just loves the taste and smell. ~ Loves beer! In fact when he doesn’t smell of Opium, he probably smells of some sweet dark beer. ~ Plays violin, and is quite skilled at it. ~ Used to be a pirate. ~ Loves the ocean and often longs for his days at sea, but not enough to actually leave mainland. ~ Doesn’t like pop music. ~ Is often seen scribbling down music in a small black leather book he carries around, so that he can play it later on his Violin. ~ Smoker. ~ Dislikes humorless people. ~ Hates Rum. ~ Is fairly skilled with a sword and fairly skilled at fighting. ~ Loves family gatherings, as it often means LOTS of beer! Pub crawls, pub brawls, any kind of brawl, hot baths, large breasts, food, spring, dancing, playing violin, flirting, sex and insulting people. ~ His style is somewhat Piratey?

One gif to describe him:

[thestudyofkats]

Tag Game ✨ (my apologies if long-winded answers aren’t your cup of tea)

tagged by the most marvelous @medieval-tales

how tall are you?

about 5′2″/158 cm

what color and style is your hair?

A mixture of light brown and dirty blonde (it grows a bit different depending on the season) and very, very long at this point (the ends can easily tuck into my jeans, so much in need of a trim). I typically wear it braided the day after washing then wavy as long as it can go.

what colour are your eyes?

Green with orange flecks near the center, but in certain lights essentially blue.

do you wear glasses?

Yes, and they’ve become a sort of security blanket for me. I feel strange and almost naked anytime they aren’t on. 

do you wear braces?

Invisible aligners for the next few months, so essentially yes.

whats your fashion sense?

Comfortable neutral classics all the way. 

full name?

If you’re that curious you can scour the internet and put that puzzle together.

where were you born?

Oklahoma, USA

where are you from and where do you live now?

Mostly grew up in Michigan, USA and still call that home.

what school do you go to?

Calvin Theological Seminary

what kind of student are you?

Love to read and discuss to no end, but pretty severely dread writing so there’s that.

do you like school?

I do, but I’d say it’s been complicated lately. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I cherish the opportunity to learn? I’ve become a much more competent self-learner throughout grad school so the administrative “hoops” of formalized education have been more notable to me lately.

favorite subject?

I’ve become the kind of person that wants to argue about the integration of subject material and knowledge generally, so I’ll just list some categories: history, theology, philosophy, literature.

favorite tv shows?

Call the Midwife, The Crown, Father Brown, GBBO, Sherlock, a bunch of historical documentary series. 

favorite movies?

Easily number one is Schindler’s List, Funny Face, The Godfather, and About Time and Notting Hill to round things out on a light-hearted note.

favorite book?

The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky, Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis, all things Tolkien (Leaf by Niggle and The Silmarillion deserve shoutouts). This is a cruel question to ask someone! How do people choose? 

favorite past time

Reading certainly gets pride of place. Getting coffee with my husband and having long meandering discussions. Thinking lots of thoughts while being outside, sometimes on a long walk and other times just sitting still. 

do you have regrets?

I can’t not think of how people say no because they’ve “learned” or “grown” from all of their experiences, but I personally think that’s unrelated and dodging the question which must have a universal human assent, right? Have I ever made another human being feel insignificant or uncared for? Have I ever offended the majesty of God? Have I ever been cruel or cold or uncharitable? To all of the above: yes, and I think that rightly grieves me. Do I wallow in guilt for those things? No, as I embrace forgiveness and the opportunity to repent and learn, but I still do “regret” the pain I’ve caused myself and others. Just my thoughts on that. 

whats your dream job?

I backspaced a ridiculous answer to this, so I’ll just be brief and say an idealized caricature (emphasis on the *dream* bit) of a professor. 

would you like to be married?

I am married, and find the arrangement just splendid.

do you want kids?

I do. 

how many?

Honestly, I’ve stopped speculating much on the questions of when and how many. I’m seeking to be more open-handed in that area.

do you like shopping?

Goodness, not really. Technically it depends on what sort of shopping—grocery shopping and browsing for books are enjoyable things for me. Shopping for nearly anything else tends to make me feel somewhat sad or uneasy though. Modern consumerism and materialism just stress me out. Living in an insanely affluent society is a blessing in many ways (I’m grateful for medical care and the ready availability of goods for sure), but I can’t help be cognizant of what a distraction it all is sometimes.

what countries have you visited?

I’m from the US and have been to Canada, the UK (England and Scotland), Belgium, and Japan.  

scariest nightmare you ever had?

Less “scary” and more just unsettling/haunting, definitely a dream I had a few years ago of a close professor friend and mentor (who is a very upstanding man and whom I respect abundantly) being sexually aggressive towards me. 

enemies?

I couldn’t call a single human being an enemy.

self doubt?

Oh yes! 

any significant other?

My husband would probably count for this, eh?

do you believe in miracles?

I believe a Virgin conceived and gave birth to God in the flesh, so I’d say so.

how are you?

I’m doing well enough, I’d say. A bit unsettled about a new term beginning and perpetually wrestling with a million thoughts, but also feeling very grateful for time spent with my husband lately and the blessing that those are the biggest challenges I have to face.

Don’t feel even an ounce of pressure, but I’ll tag: @tatstudies @philosophyblr @britannicainalbion @lawyerd @stillstudies @future-eng

[melisusthewee]

I am going to tell you a story

I've already mentioned on here that I've taken up rock climbing. I go once a week with a couple of friends. It's good exercise, and I might go more often once the auto-belays are back up and running. We'll see. It's good to spend time with some friends who have been nothing but supportive and nurturing when it comes to what I've been going through. It's a nice distraction for a couple hours while I climb walls, and try to figure out puzzles, and throw all of my concentration into things.

But that's not what I'm here to tell you about today. And I am also not going to talk about the ex. It's not one of those posts. But I am going to tell you about a boy. Or several.

No, scratch that. I am going to tell you a story about men. And some badass women. Because as much as rock climbing with friends is good for me and is a good post-betrayal hobby, I really needed something that was just for me. Something I could focus on and put time and energy into, where I could meet new people who didn't know me or anything about me prior to the moment they first met me.

Which is exactly how (and why) I found AEMMA... otherwise known as the Academy of European Medieval Martial Arts.

To give you a basic rundown, the AEMMA is a HEMA-affiliated academy. But they do things a little differently. The curriculum is ever-evolving and they develop their curriculum primarily from the writings of Fiore dei Liberi who wrote an illustrated manuscript that covers fighting and combat from unarmed grappling all the way through to mounted combat. In addition to this specific manuscript focus (though they do also lift instructions from other manuscripts), more advanced members who have reached the scholler and free scholler rank are expected to assist in studying the source material, adding their thoughts and interpretations in order to further develop the program, as well as assist in teaching recruits.

So this is where I ended up, signing up for their intake class, enthusiastic about something both practical (in terms of the wrestling and dagger fighting) and unique (the sword fighting, and promises of eventually pole axe combat, sword and buckler, and full armour fighting), but also nervous as hell. HEMA groups sometimes can have... reputations. For being dramatic, cliquey, and in more recent years having an issue with being a target for alt-right infiltrators. I didn't know what to expect. Would I walk in and be the only woman? Would I be surrounded by metal heads? Basement nerd bros? Neo Nazis?

I show up to the first class, where the office door is open and two people are sitting inside. A woman with bright red hair, some of which has been braided in Celtic style jumps to her feet to welcome me and shake my hand. She introduces herself as one of the free schollers in the academy who also runs the warm up fitness class beforehand. I immediately notice her hands are covered in runic tattoos. She then hands me a waiver to fill out and tells me to just hand it back once I'm done so she can "WITNESS ME UPON THE FURY ROAD!!!"

I am then introduced to the other occupant in the room, a man sitting at a computer who is introduced as another one of the schollers and also the academy's secretary. If he's not in the office, Mr. Secretary (obviously not his real name) can be found either at his second job in the north end teaching children how to fence or practicing his fire breathing after hours when no one else is around. I can only describe this man as looking stereotypically like a samurai, long black hair pulled back in a simple tie. You would think the mention of the fire breathing would be the part he brags about. But no. Instead, he turns to me and grins. "The Russian and Chinese parents tell me I have full permission to make their children cry."

These people are weird and I love them already.

The remaining members of the new intake class gradually show up one by one. We all introduce ourselves, talk about what led us to be here, etc. Then we meet the senior scholler in charge of the intake class who takes us on a tour and shows us around the place, introducing us to the folks we're going to meet and the teachers who are going to beat us senseless with swords. It's honestly great, because the ongoing recruit class shows a big mix of both gender, age, culture, and fitness level. It's explained that the goal of the academy is to make it an open and welcome environment for people of all types who want to learn how to hit things with swords really well!

I decide to stay along with a couple of the other intakes after our intro lesson because Monday nights at the academy are Fight Nights. After the evening's lesson, the advanced recruits and the schollers basically get together in full sword fighting kits (those that have them), and two lists are set up for duels. It's open for schollers to fight each other, recruits to spar one another, or recruits to flag down a scholler and get in some one-on-one practice and lessons. And this is when I meet our next character - Jacques.

"Jacques" is not actually his name. I don't know his name yet. We were briefly introduced, but it was in passing so I've forgotten it! But I shall call him Jacques because he is extremely French.

So here we are. It's Fight Night. The advanced recruits and schollers are all changing into their kits. And out of the armoury walks Jacques. Dressed in his gambeson and gorget, battered leather gloves on his hands, fencing helmet tucked under one arm, and his broadsword held in the other. With the way this man's hair was combed and his beard trimmed, if it weren't for the New Balance sneakers on his feet you would have sworn this man had just walked out of the Hundred Years War. I had to do a double take. I am still not convinced he is not secretly a time traveller.

Lastly, we have Duncan who is our wrestling instructor and gets a mention because of Dragon Age. Duncan does not look anything like Warden Commander Duncan. He is stocky and broad-shouldered, and built more like DAO Alistair than Duncan. Duncan, however, gets a special mention because Wednesdays are Bologneise night where the schollers study a special Italian style of sword fighting. This style of fighting involves the use of a sword in one hand, and a dagger in the other. It is so on point that I had to share it with the rest of you.

I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to like this place.

[skullssales]

Costume: The Language of Fashion

Welcome to the unending Knot! As we put together for Halloween, lets take a appear on the customized of costumes. Costume and customized are eventually the identical word, costume being only the custom of how one dresses, however these two varieties of the phrase got here into English by way of extraordinary paths. Each are from Latin consuetudo which means custom, dependancy tracing its source back to a Proto-Indo-European root which means oneself, which also offers us the words self, suicide (killing oneself), idiom (ones possess means), and ethnic (a band of people dwelling together). At bottom, then, costumes and customs are approaches we outline ourselves. So Im going to take a seem at one of the most language of fashion, and also at how trend can perform as a language, communicating your status, background, identity and more to the arena round you. Customized came into English first, in the 13th century, through Anglo-Norman French within the feel of ordinary apply. Costume however came by means of Italian after which French to arrive in English within the seventeenth century as a technical time period within the quality arts to consult the type of portray or sculpture of a unique historical period.

Costume step by step came to refer to garb rather, now not handiest in the basic experience (as in bathing costume), but in addition the specialized feel of apparel of a special tradition or time (think custom), as in a national costume. Of course the feel of costume we are inclined to believe of first is the outfit worn for specific events reminiscent of Halloween, Mardi Gras, or a fancy gown celebration. A further contemporary phenomenon is cosplay, a eastern portmanteau of the English phrases costume and play, where contributors dress up to recreate characters from a sort of media including comics, video video games and films. Cosplay is extra than just hanging on a dressing up, thoughit has developed right into a highly complex tradition with specified subgroups, in which the choice and variety of costume indicators allegiance to a certain fandom, may also be an outlet for creativity and for difficult stereotypes and cultural norms, and also can point out facets of your price method to different contributors of the group.

However its no longer simplest what we think of as costumes that can participate in this operate. Fashion has continuously been principal in marking ingroups and outgroups, equivalent to whether youre a part of a unique social, religious, or political motion, if you happen to belong to a unique subculture, or effectively how cool you’re. One severe example of this is the macaroni. In and across the 18th century it used to be fashionable for younger guys of way to go on the so-referred to as Grand Tour to Europe to absorb the finer features of European culture and history. Within the 1760s a bunch of such vacationers grew to be enamoured of Italian tradition, as a result the macaroni membership, and took to carrying outlandishly exaggerated patterns of apparel and fashion, with bright colours, much lace, gold embroidery, and comically oversized wigs.

In succeeding generations there was once both an outgrowth and a backlash to this trend known as dandyism, led partly by way of essentially the most noted dandy Beau Brummell, which used to be equally obsessive about matters of sort, however as an alternative moved closer to a incredibly refined look with dark colours, exquisitely tailored clothes, long trousers instead of breeches, and difficult neckties. This kind set the trend for the formal mens go well with that we still know at present. These trend traits grew to be immortalized within the track Yankee Doodle, wherein the uncouth American, most likely not part of the ingroup, rides into city on a pony as an alternative than a horse, and considers the mere ornament of a feather in his cap adequate to qualify him as macaroni making him a Yankee Doodle dandy! Now, its no accident that costume and custom come from the same root, as we are able to inform by means of watching at a parallel pair of words, habit and addiction. That is, dependancy meaning custom and dependancy that means clothing, as in a nuns dependancy. The phrase, which etymologically means what one has, comes by way of French from the Latin verb habeo that means to have.

Both the English addiction and the Latin habitus might refer to the outside, so ones appearance or in different words garb, and to ones interior or persona, and from this develops the feel of ordinary behaviour. Latin habeo goes back to a Proto-Indo-European root this means that to provide, acquire (observe the reciprocal nature of this phrase), and correctly gives us the phrase give, though fairly not the phrase have, although the 2 roots do share a an identical semantic development indeed behaviour, concerning have, mirrors addiction within the sense of routine action. While the word dependancy used to consult clothing frequently, today its customarily restricted to the apparel of monks and nuns.

Another detail of a nuns dependancy that used to be fashioned to ladies mostly was the wimple, a form of material that covered the pinnacle and neck as much as the chin, as it was once viewed immodest for a lady to show her hair. Of course trend changes and the wimple was once dropped by means of every person except nuns, and instead different adornments had been observed for the necks of females, such because the gorget or gorgias, a style of throat protecting which derives its name from the French phrase for throat. This new apparel used to be considered so fashionable that we get the word gorgeous from it. Unless you consider the alternate conception that the phrase is a reference to the Greek thinker Gorgias who used to be apparently really into luxurious and displaying it off.

He was mainly recognized for praise rhetoric and wrote a reward piece for Helen of Troy, whose gorgeousness kicked off the Trojan conflict, exonerating her from any blame. A further neck masking that became standard within the later core ages and early today’s durations was once St Audreys lace, so known as in view that it used to be offered at St Audreys fair. St Audrey, or to offer the long-established Anglo-Saxon variant of her name thelthryth, used to experience necklaces in her early life, and when later in life she bought a horrible tumour on her neck, she took it as divine retribution for her self-importance, a story acknowledged through the Venerable Bede in his Ecclesiastical historical past of the English persons. So i suppose these St Audreys laces have been thought of as modesty preservers. Best as soon as again, trend alterations and by the 17th century these laces came to be inspiration of as inexpensive and gaudy, and so St Audrey used to be shortened to our pejorative phrase tawdry. Bad Audrey, what a legacy! But getting back to those wimples, the source of the word wimple will not be distinct, however it’ll come from a Proto-Indo-European root this means that to turn (as in a cloth wrapped around the head), a root which also gives us the words wipe, whip, and vibrate.

This root additionally gives us the word gimp. No no longer that gimp, however a kind of braided twine used for trimming fabric and in lace–like St Audreys lace, I suppose. Although speakme of that other type of gimp (to not mention whips i assume), this would remind us of yet another part of fashion, apparel fetishes, though perhaps the less stated about that the simpler, notably within the context of nuns! Getting back to these nuns, at the same time they had been covering their hair for modesty, the monks were doings whatever altogether distinct with theirs.

Tonsure, from the Latin for barber, is the shaving of some part of the hair in order to exhibit religious devotion. Extraordinary devout traditions have different patterns of shaving, like for illustration in the Roman church where the very prime of the top is shaved. The Irish church within the medieval period, alternatively, had another pattern of tonsure, a point of so much competition. Certainly the Venerable Bede (don’t forget he wrote about Saint Audrey) connects this difference to the corresponding change between the Roman and Irish approaches of calculating Easter, and the fine climactic second of victory in his historical past is when the English definitively adopt the Roman practise over the Irish. An instance the place coiffure rather did make a decision ingroup and outgroup! No person now really knows what that Irish tonsure used to be like as descriptions are vague, however one suggestion is that the hair was shaved at the front ear to ear however allowed to grow at the back.

So business within the front, celebration within the again? Genuinely there may be a different candidate for the medieval mullet. In the 6th century Procopius wrote of this coiffure in Constantinople where it used to be known as the Hunnic appear. Incidentally, the modern day word mullet for the hairstyle seems to go back best to the Beastie Boys 1994 tune Mullet Head, although some sources additionally point to the 1967 movie Cool Hand Luke wherein the time period mullet head is used, though its not absolutely clear that this is a reference to shaggy hair. The expression mullet head goes again to the 19th century within the feel a silly individual, and springs from the fish mullet, whose title can most likely be traced again to a root that means black. So clearly hairstyle like garb is an essential marker of fashion and thus costume and custom. There had been of path many top notch hairstyles over time, many with fascinating etymologies.

Famous might be are sideburns, named after the the united states Civil warfare normal Ambrose Burnside. Within the seventeenth century when King Louis XIV of France started to lose his hair very likely as a result of syphilis, his donning of a wig kicked off a trend for wigs. Even folks who werent thinning on prime began to put on them. That is what we could now call a celeb fashion pattern. A equivalent trend trend sparked through sickness round that equal time was once the fashion for wearing synthetic beauty marks, at first to hide scars left through smallpox, however soon as a fashionable item in itself. An additional superstar hair fashion was once the pompadour, named in honour of Madame de Pompadour, mistress of Louis the XV. This trend trend would ultimately return some 200 years later on the heads of the greasers in Nineteen Fifties the united states, most famously exemplified by way of Elvis Presley. Well developments do come and go. Of direction clothing as a marker of tradition has been around ever on the grounds that it moved beyond the in basic terms realistic, however the swiftly moving fashion pattern had to wait except the late core a long time and early modern day period to relatively take off. Official tailors commenced to appear in Europe in the 14th century.

And although the button had been round when you consider that ancient instances, believe or no longer it wasnt unless the thirteenth century in Germany that the buttonhole was once invented, permitting the button for use as a fastener. Both of these traits, the tailor and the button, resulted in extra form fitting garb, as a substitute than the loosely draped type of earlier eras, and this used to be the real impetus for trend trends. Moderate variants in reduce and form would exchange quickly, going inside and outside of type. Maybe the primary first-class runaway trend craze is slashing, in which cuts are made in an outer garment to disclose the lavish materials of the garments underneath. This development began off with Swiss squaddies, after defeating the forces of Charles the bold, duke of Burgundy, threading bits of material taken from the tents and banners of their enemies by means of the holes in their possess ragged clothing.

After they again home, the kind caught on and soon unfold by way of Europe. This displaying off of additional fabric is an example of conspicuous consumption, essentially showing off your wealth, like the prominently displayed fashion designer trademarks of at present. Of path to be competent to show off by means of clothing you had to be of the higher classes. Actually throughout the core ages and early present day interval, legal guidelines have been handed to prevent curb class men and women from dressing above their stage.

You see right now there used to be the upward thrust of the middle type all of a sudden non-nobles had disposable earnings, made out of alternate and manufacture as an alternative than the land owning of the noble classes. So these so-referred to as sumptuary legal guidelines have been handed proscribing what people might wear at one of a kind levels of society. This wasnt of direction the first time such restrictions existed. In ancient Rome, for example, best Roman citizens, in different words free-born Roman men, were allowed to wear togas. It used to be a marker of repute and rank. I someway dont think these Romans would approve of the toga celebration! Speaking of which, that institution tradition started it appears in 1953 at Pomona tuition, and later grew to be noted within the movie country wide Lampoons Animal residence. Nevertheless, before this there is a narrative of First girl Eleanor Roosevelt throwing a toga party to spoof the criticism of her husband FDR as being like a Caesar. As soon as once more, the politics of trend. As for apparel as a marker of repute, even after those sumptuary laws were dropped, it wasnt relatively unless the advent of competent-to-wear clothing, with standardized sizing that you would purchase off the rack with out want of tailoring, that fashion really started to be democratized.

Eventually the center category could be trendy as well. Despite the fact that those outstanding clothier trademarks of today, and the whole haute-couture world, show us that fashion and status are quite still a factor. Getting back to France, the dwelling of trend, a further fashion-setting elite used to be Marie Antoinette, spouse of King Louis XVI, who is the ultimate illustration of excessive extravagance.

It seems that she preferred being known as the queen of trend to the queen of France. Her designer Rose Bertin, who is the primary noted fashion clothier, created the trend doll as a way to disseminate the in trends to Marie Antoinettes loved ones and friends, and this was form of a precursor to the fashion magazine as we know it at present. Really the very first fashion publication was once Castilgliones The guide of the Courtier from the early 16th century, which dealt with etiquette at court docket. The magazine Mercure Galant from the late seventeenth century began to offer advice concerning the trendy tendencies, and by means of the late 18th and early nineteenth century there have been numerous such publications in general with trend plates demonstrating the styles. Marie Antoinettes successor as fashion pattern setter was once the Empress Josephine, wife of Napoleon Bonaparte. Rejecting the lavish styles of Marie, Josephine took a web page from the neoclassical developments of the day and wore attire an identical in variety to the peplos of old Greek females, cinched excessive above the waist.

We now comprehend of this because the empire waist in honour of Empress Josephine. Additionally to being belted on the waist, the old Greek peplos used to be fixed on the shoulders with broaches often called fibulae. Without a doubt the fibula is similar to the modern day defense pin. The protection pin was reinvented in ultra-modern instances by using a man named Walter Hunt, whose other important fashion declare to fame is inventing the lockstitch mechanism that makes the stitching desktop viable. The stitching machine is honestly the mixed work of a number of different inventors coming together. The one to quite make it sensible, viable, and popular was Isaac Singer, who put into practise the today’s manufacturing facility creation approaches to mass produce the machines. Singer was subsequently sued for the patent by way of inventor Elias Howe, who had designed his own lockstitch mechanism, Walter Hunt having declined to patent the thought as he used to be afraid it might put seamstresses out of labor.

But in the end, it was Singers stitching machine that helped to democratize trend, not best making manufacturing of garments more cost-effective and less complicated, however making it possible to do the work in the home. As for Elias Howe, his other fashion claim to status is developing with the primary automatic, steady clothing closure in different phrases the zipper. Unusually, Howe made so much money from his lawsuit in opposition to Singer that he on no account stricken to market his zipper, and it wasnt until the thought used to be later reinvented by way of Whitcomb L. Judson at the finish of the nineteenth century and additional developed by using Gideon Sundback that the general public got the zipper as we know it today.

Incidentally, the word zipper initially talked about the boot it was once designed for, no longer the fastener itself, but the term soon transferred over. At present the zipper is the fastener of alternative on many other forms of garb, such as jackets and probably on trousers, besides on buttonfly denims, the place the button remains as a quaint holdover of days previous. Speaking of jeans, this staple of brand new trend was invented for the nineteenth century gold rush, as the miners wanted tough durable trousers for working in. The tailor Jacob Davis had the proposal of setting up trousers with rivets to make stronger the seams. He bought the hard denim material from wholesaler Levi Strauss, and eventually the 2 went into trade collectively, and Levi denim denims were born. However the language of this fashion predate this invention and is derived from far afield. Jean is an ancient sixteenth century word that comes from the city identify Genoa, and came to consult a rugged variety of fabric that came from there.

The word denim is derived from the French de Nmes meaning from Nmes, a city in southern France. And to high it off, dungaree, one other identify for jeans, comes from the identify of a village in India, Dungri. So this icon of american fashion actually comes from far and wide the sector! And indeed as the globalized 20th and 21st centuries have become more and more fragmented and uncentred we can now not speak a few single trend, and there are some distance too many trends, styles and subcultures to say right here. But probably one of the most hanging that borrows from the prior is the goth style.

Combining retro Victorian patterns with the gloominess of gothic horror fiction, the development used to be taken up via these feeling isolated from and wishing to rebel in opposition to mainstream tradition. And that brings us properly back to Halloween costumes. There seem to be a quantity of traditions that contributed to dressing up in costumes at Halloweenwhich I discussed in some element in my video on Jack-o-Lantern. One part of this practice is that it offers licence to misrule, dressing up in taboo costumes, and breaking average social boundaries. In additional latest years there’s the unfortunate pattern of dressing up in the (regularly stereotyped or caricatured) country wide costumes of other cultures, decreasing these cultures to a type of costume that may be placed on via any individual. Additionally theres the sexualized costumes, chiefly where it creates a pointy contrast, as within the attractive nun costumes. Far from that modest wimple! If trend is a language, might be we should feel about what we’re saying with these costumesand no longer make a habit of it! Thanks for observing! If youve loved these etymological explorations and cultural connections, please subscribe to this channel or share it; you can also signal up for electronic mail notifications of recent videos within the description under.

And verify out our Patreon web page, where which you can make a contribution to help me make more videos go away a remark or query, or tweet @Alliterative; which you could additionally read more of my thoughts on my web publication at alliterative.Internet .

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Source: https://skullssales.com/

[dwellordream]

mediumaevum:

Medieval Woman’s Head-dress In the Middle Ages this style of head-dress was worn by noblewomen. This head-dress is a replica. It is in three parts - the veil, crespines (hairnet) and golden cap. The crespines are made of gold braid with small gold flowers, and the netting is decorated with glass beads. Gold lace trims the border around the top edge of the crespines.  The crespines are attached to a golden cap that fits snugly on the head. This cap is not typical mediaeval headwear, the crespines would normally have been attached to a narrow band of material or metal that sat on the head like a crown. This was called a fillet or coronet and it would have extensions on either side forming the top of the crespines.  Flattering veils that framed the face were very popular in the Middle Ages. This veil is semi-circular in shape, with the straight edge falling on either side of the face and the curved edge brushing the top of the shoulders. It is made of two layers of white translucent material; one is shorter than the other and stops at the back of the neck while the other drops below. The veil is attached to the back of the cap, but in the Middle Ages it would have been secured by the fillet.

source

[earthbound19]

THE LIBRARY FREAK-OUT: short fantasy/silly screenplay

The fountain source for this is over here.

Below is a copy of the fountain source, which may become outdated if I update the original source.

Here is a .pdf conversion from the fountain source via fountain2pdf (using wrap CLI).

Title:

THE LIBRARY FREAK-OUT

Credit: by

Author: Richard Alexander Hall

Source:

Story by Richard Alexander Hall

Copyright:

2018 Richard Alexander Hall

Contact:

earthbound dot io

slash contact

[[URL to search for archival/announce post: http://s.earthbound.io/libraryfreakout]]

Note: the production values for this don't have to be great. It could be live-action, primitive cartoons poorly animated, or a mix of both. All that is necessary is to convey what happens. Also, imagine and dress the characters any way you wish.

FADE IN:

EXT. LIBRARY--DAY

This large, artful building combines multiple Western medieval fortress and cathedral styles, bedecked with beautiful, colorful, abstract stained glass.

INT. LIBRARY--DAY

Three weirdos, CHALF, NAR, and YOR, each male and 15, the sort of people who answer "YORF!" when you ask them a question, all dressed in well-decorated robes of various colors with decorative trimming, and Chalf with a beanie, sit at a table in a study area of the library.

Chalf is clever and a bit stern and bossy. Nar is chipper and flighty. Yor lost none of the enthusiastic, random weirdth of infancy.

They are arrayed with study supplies like backpacks, books, papers, pencils and notebooks. They read and take notes.

Also in the area are MANY OTHER PATRONS, of every age and gender, dressed in robes and other sundry medieval attire.

Also seated is THRAIN, a brown Unicorn mare with black horn and long mane, and a rainbow-dyed braid, 6 (26 in human years), spunky and cheery, with a friendly expression carved into her features.

CHARYA, a stereotype nice Librarian lady, 30, in a black robe with embroidered gold fire, sits at a library help desk twenty paces away from Chalf, Nar and Yor.

Nar's eyes drift away from his book and he twiddles his thumbs, bored, then sighs.

CHALF

Mm-hm, yep burp.

NAR

Mm-hm yeah.

YOR

Yep.

Chalf twiddles his thumbs. Nar nervously shakes his restless leg up and down and it rattles the table. Yor taps a rhythm on the table.

In a sigh, Chalf speaks the word itself a little too loudly:

CHALF

Sssiiiiiigh.

Charya (the Librarian) walks over as they fidget, and implores them in a polite tone.

CHARYA

No? Hush yes?

They stop all motion.

YOR

Mm-hm yeh okay.

As she walks back to her desk and sits down, Yor scritches his hair and utters a quiet moan as he says the word itself:

YOR

Mooooan.

Nar taps a rhythm on the table.

CHALF

Nn! Zut.

He gives them an expression that warns, and inclines his head and gestures with his eyes to Charya.

They glance over to see her. She looks at them with a frown and shakes her head.

Chalf speaks a bit too loudly.

CHALF

Mm-hm yah yep no okay yep Hush.

PATRON ONE

Shh!

Chalf lowers his voice.

CHALF

Mm-hm yah ok yep hush.

They return to thier studies.

Chalf gets a piece of paper out of a folder and it makes an unnaturally loud sound of a percussion brush on a drum.

The three of them look at each other, puzzled.

He slides the paper back and forth on the table in a rhythm, and it makes percussion brush sounds:

Note: the rhythms and sung/beatboxed parts are examples. Use any invented music you wish.

schwiff-chiffer-chiffer-chiffer schwiffer-chiffer-chiffer-chif--

He repeats this rhythmic percussion. Nar sings to the rhythm, quietly.

NAR

(sings)

Neema-sasim neema-sah

NEEEE-ma-sasim neemasasim,

Neema-sasim neema-sah

NEEEE-ma-sasim neemasasim--

Yor joins, with a queit, low beatbox and sung bass:

YOR

(sings)

UMPA-chip-pa-ba-dumpa

chip-UUH,

pa-ba-dumpa-CHUMPA-UMPA,

UMPA-chip-pa-ba-dumpa

chup-UUH,

umpa-chippa-UMPA-DUMPA--

CHARYA

(a bit loud)

No?

Startled, they stop and see that she stands right by their table. They wear "caught," guilty expressions.

Chalf and Charya have a whispered conversation.

CHALF

I thinks you a Dragon, yep burp.

CHARYA

Dragon why?

CHALF

Just think.

CHARYA

Why you say burp?

CHALF

Is weird. If not say, will actual--

He emits a small burp.

CHARYA

What?

CHALF

But sometimes burp anyway. Burp.

CHARYA

Anyway, no?

CHALF

Oh yes. No. Shush. Yes.

He gives Nar and Yor an evil glare of blame. They extend their palms out in innocence with incredulous looks: you started this!

Charya points at him.

CHARYA

Hush?

CHALF

Uh yes hush burp.

She walks back to her desk and sits.

He burps.

PATRON TWO

SHHHH!

NAR

Shushing is louder than burp why?

Patron Two rolls her eyes.

CHARYA

Why burp?

CHALF

Exlained. Is just burp, Dragon.

CHARYA

Not Dragon.

PATRONS THREE AND FOUR

SSSSSHHHHHH!

Chalf emits an epic burp.

CHALF

Sorry. Mmm-hm yeah, is not Dragon, sure. Burp.

CHARYA

No?

YOR

Mmm-hm yes sorries, hush.

Chalf, Nar and Yor resume their studies.

Their eyes drift off and they do various restless things (you decide what, actors).

Chalf takes the paper and takes up the metal brush rhythm.

Nar and Yor queitly join with their afore song and beatbox.

Thrain (the Unicorn) grooves to it a bit, dances.

Their volume raises.

Thrain turns to them and smiles, and points at the help desk, where Charya glares at them. Charya's eyes glow dim red.

They stop their song.

CHARYA

Quiet. Or out.

She points to an exit.

Chalf can't contain himself.

CHALF

Dragon! Dragon.

CHARYA

No Dragon. Quiet.

CHALF

Yes Dragon.

Her glare at him intensifies, and her eyes glow a bit more.

CHALF

Yeep! Yes I mean quiet, yes sorry, quiet, mm-hm.

She looks away and they return to their studies.

THRAIN

(whispers)

Yes Dragon.

Chalf looks up to see that Thrain gives him a furtive "I know a secret" look.

CHALF

(excited whisper)

Knew it! Knew it!

They exchange excited whispers.

NAR

Yeep!

YOR

Yurp!

They glance over to be sure Charya hasn't noticed their stir. She hasn't.

CHALF

Oh boy. Mm-hm yes hush.

They return to studies.

They manage to study for twelve seconds.

Thrain very quietly takes up beatbox of the metal brush rhythm.

Chalf, Nar and Yor can't stand it and join, and Chalf takes up a new beatbox/sung part.

Patron Five gives a desperately urgent yet queit:

PATRON FIVE

Shhh!

They ignore him. Their volume raises.

CHARYA

I SAID QUIET!

Thrain taps her horn twice on her desk, and many glowy magic shields individually surround her, all patrons, Charya, and the bookshelves.

Flames of out-of-control rage pour out of Charya's throat and consume the entire library in a flash.

EXT. LIBRARY--DAY

The library is razed in heaps of ashen rubble, some of which burns.

The bookshelves and books stand intact and unharmed, glowy shields around them.

All the patrons climb out of the rubble, glowy shields intact. Many patrons scream or shout in terror but it is silent behind their shields.

Charya bows her head, and all the shields dissappear.

The patron screams break free on the air, but everyone quickly realizes they are safe, and they all go silent.

Thrain walks over to Chalf, looks at him, then points her Unicorn horn at a large, dark, scaly heap.

The scaly heap unfolds and rises to a dragon in full spectacular form and scale.

Some patrons scream or shout in terror, and run away.

The Dragon regards everyone, and frowns.

CHARYA

Sorry! Sorry burn!

Charya cries.

Thrain raises her head, winks at Chalf, then looks at the Dragon.

THRAIN

Dragon.

CHALF

Mm-hm yes quiet sorry burp.

Thrain looks at Chalf.

THRAIN

Weirdo.

CHALF

Mm-hm yes true.

FADE OUT:

> THE END <

Syndicated from: http://earthbound.io/blog/the-library-freak-out/

URL to original image: http://earthbound.io/blog/wp-content/uploads/THE_LIBRARY_FREAK-OUT_preview.png

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Other items shown sold separately.

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