#In the series there is a portrait of the king in the background and his sun symbol thing has five rays of sun.

[nosferatufaggot]

I've been watching Tangled the Series and I'm watching the movie right now and something confuses me.

The magical flower has SIX petals! And it appears that the armor on the Corona guards represents the sun, due to the magic flower that came from a drop of the sun. So of the magic sun flower has SIX petals, why does the symbol of Corona have seven rays of sun? Like, the rays of sun are obviously supposed to resemble the petals of a flower, so why this discrepancy? Why? Why?? WHY!?

[legobiwan]

So I find it a little odd that Mario shakes his brother's hand like he's trying to win political office rather than having just been rescued (again) from one of King Boo's paintings at the end of Luigi's Mansion: Dark Moon.

But then I was thinking - this might be a kind of instinctual response.

From what we can gather over the three games, being stuck in a painting isn't a passive experience, but one that is disturbing, disorientating, and mostly likely tantamount to torture.

And given King Boo's abilities, who knows what kind of environment he has dropped his victims into with these settings. The landscapes, you might say. There's no definite background in any of the trapped paintings, ghost or otherwise, but it does beg the question of what can be felt, seen, heard, or otherwise perceived by someone who is trapped in a portrait. Does the hunter create the cage, enrichment area and all, or are the trappings beyond the frame (inside the frame) more akin to being trapped within one's mind and all the pitfalls that could emerge from that?

We see three iterations of Mario being freed from the painting in each game. The first being total confusion and possible injury; the second looking like some kind of hallucination, given Luigi's concerned expression; and the third being a form of decorporalization (not a real word, but whatever), as Mario seems shocked to learn he has a body again.

The first might be attributed to King Boo's insistence of straight-up physical torture combined with E. Gadd's more medieval equipment, which had likely been less-than-tested in extracting someone from a portrait. (And if the de-portraiting process was that bad, imagine what it was like for the ghosts going in. No wonder they held a grudge. I love E. Gadd, but oh boi, is he the pinnacle morally ambiguous mad scientist).

Anyway, in the third installment, Mario definitely shows signs of having been disconnected from his physical form, perhaps meaning that his time inside the portrait reduced him to a neutered, mental representation of himself, incapable of fighting back in the real world. But this being said, he seems to recognize Luigi on-site, rushing forward to give him an enthusiastic hug, which is the reaction you'd expect after being freed from a pair of diabolical ghosts, one of whom is trying to thirst-trap the other through psychological torture.

So what's the deal with Mario's reaction in Dark Moon?

My guess is that King Boo trapped Mario in a painting that was a distorted reality, or perhaps a distorted version of Mario's own insecurities. It would account for the disorientation and the fact Mario comes out of the painting gladhanding his own brother like a stranger. (Which would also account for Luigi's concerned reaction - what the hell is my brother doing?)

And you figure, Mario, at this point, is a kind of figurehead, an idol, a hero of the Mushroom Kingdom. It's become his identity, it's who he is, it's what he does and is known for. Of course, part of this role is going around and shaking hands, being present - at least physically - at press conferences and speeches and all the like. The people need a focal point, a representation of their hopes against the violent and numerous incursions upon their land they suffer from outside forces (although in complete transparency, my personal headcanon is that Bowser's kingdom used to be comprised of at least a part of the Mushroom Kingdom, and that that land and sovereignty was stolen through a series of bad treaties by his father and some of the more malicious factions of the Toad Council, thus leading to both the enmity between the kingdoms and some serious economic and trade repercussions in the Darklands, but that's a whole other post.)

Mario must be so used to blindly shaking hands and putting up that front, that character, so much so that he doesn't even think about it anymore, and it's my theory that this is the version of Mario that emerges from the portrait in Dark Moon, perhaps having been wrested from some situation where this almost desperate attempt at approval was manifesting from Mario's own subconscious.

And poor Luigi. You have to wonder if one of his latent fears is becoming another empty face in the adoring crowd surrounding his brother. The Mario that emerges is not 100% connected to the fact he is Luigi's brother, it seems, is just putting on airs and the right words and actions as he may have been trained to do by the Toad Council. (Who, incidentally, are one of my favorite scapegoats in the series). Talk about a nightmare come to life.

It fits, in a way. Mario's first abduction results in physical harm, his second in mental, his third in more of a depersonalization - perhaps a rushed spell enacted by King Boo as he was, by the time of the whole hotel debacle, was far more preoccupied with his idea of trapping Luigi than enacting harm on anyone else beyond imprisonment. Because by the time Luigi's Manion 3 rolls around, King Boo is almost deranged in his obsession with Luigi, and I wouldn't be shocked if his non-existent heart wasn't into the nastier sides of portrait capture when it came to Luigi's friends and family. But oh boi, if he had captured Luigi in one of those paintings - good night, nurse.

[onefleshonepod]

ID: A digital collage of "The Emperor” tarot card as John from the Locked Tomb series. The card shows a daguerrotype portrait of John framed in wood at a bone altar flanked by cow skulls and books. John is a bearded Māori man wearing the Lyctoral robes of office and a crown of finger bones. Below the shrine are images of The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle. In the background is an abstract halo of yellow, pink, and blue, from The Womb of the Universe by Delta Venus. John’s image is from a photograph in the collection of Te Papa of an unknown Māori man from the 1870s. The bone altar is from the Sedlec Ossuary in Prague. The left side of the card shows the upright meaning of The Emperor and reads, “Authority | Structure | Control | Fatherhood | Stability | Law | Leadership | Power” in all caps. The right side of the card shows the reversed reading and reads “Tyranny | Rigidity | Coldness | Stubbornness | Manipulation | Loss of Authority” in all caps. The base of the card reads "The Emperor | John” in a retro 1970s-style font. Before “John” is a list of his titles in smaller text: “His Celestial Kindliness, The First Reborn, King of the Nine Renewals, Our Resurrector, and the Necrolord Prime, the Emperor of the Nine Houses.”

I paired the design for this card with my design for the Empress card, inspired by the “portrait of the Emperor as Kindly Master” in Silas’ rooms in Canaan House, and the “waterproof portrait of the Emperor, here portrayed as the Merciful Resurrector” from Tamsyn Muir’s house sorting quiz. I imagined this scene as a necromancer's altar. The cow skulls are a nod to the ram skulls adorning the Emperor's throne in the Rider-Waite-Smith card, tweaked slightly to fit John's story. The Very Hungry Caterpillar was referenced in Nona the Ninth in John’s narrative of his apotheosis and is also an apt metaphor for empire.

[sparklingchan]

Echoes|| Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Hyunjin

Word count : 5.8K+

Warnings : Blood, death, weapons, fire.

Genre : Romance, time-travel AU, royal AU, suggestive, mentions of death

Description: One day, you’re a college student, barely making it through your finals. And the next, you wake up in a palace, married to the most beautiful man on earth. What the hell is happening?!

A/N : HELLO MY TUMBLR FAM! I know its been way toooo long. And I’ll be honest, I missed everyone and I missed writing more than anything. I’ll try to post regularly and I hope my stories reach out to you as much as they did before.

Also, in other news, if this story gets a good response then imma write a mini series of royal stories for the other members as well(the stories will not be interrelated tho)

I hope y’all like this! I put my heart and soul into it!

You're not sure if you're awake anymore or just a frozen sack of meat staring at a painting like your life depended on it.

"See? I told you, y/n! She looks like you." Your friend, Lia squeals excitedly. You wish you could share even half of her enthusiasm.

You knew this trip to the museum was a bad idea the moment you got on the bus. This entire trip has just not been clicking with you the way you'd expected it to.

You were always a history lover, though. You'd read pages and pages about kings and queens and ancient politics and everything along those lines. This trip was supposed to be equally enlightening but you'd spent the entire day trying shake off an odd, eerie feeling that seems to have latched on to your back.

"Yeah.." you mutter to Lia.

Your eyes run along every single stroke of the painter's brush. The red hues of the curtains, the golden shine of the crowns, the green frills on the Prince's overcoat and the brown contour of the Princess's face.

The face that somehow mirrored yours.

"Maybe she's a far, far ancestor of yours?" Lia suggests, "Who knows, y/n!"

There's no way a Princess from the 1800s could be your ancestor; you'd know if you had even a bit of royal blood coursing through your veins.

And in that one possibility out a million, even if you did have a royal ancestor, there's no way she'd look exactly like you. No way.

"Or it could be your past life, y/n." Lia's voice goes into a whisper, her eyes widening behind her square rimmed glasses, "Maybe you were the princess."

You only sigh in response.

You walk closer to read the placard placed near the foot of the painting.

Hwang Yeji

Painter, 1795-1856.

Portrait of His Royal Highness Prince Hwang Hyunjin and the Royal consort

1827

Oil on canvas

Her Royal Highness princess Hwang Yeji was born in 1795 to His majesty King Chung and the royal consort Her Majesty Queen Sayuu of the then kingdom of Clé. She also has a twin brother, Prince Hwang Hyunjin who is believed to be older than her by a few minutes.

“It is said that the Crown Prince and Princess have had quite a tragic story, and Princess Yeji had gathered strentgh to complete this painting a long time after her brother and sister in law were tragically killed.” Lia reads out the rest of the sentences.

"I'm taking a picture, oh God! This is so fucking awesome." Lia fishes out her phone and starts clicking pictures of the painting, muttering how the similarity between these you and the Royal Consort is giving her goosebumps, "Should I make a video too?"

Her voice drains out into the background as a throbbing pain spreads across your head and eyes and you see odd flashes like the scenes of a movie playing without any particular order; castles, ball dances, a crown colored in blood and a boy wounded in your arms.

An unexplainable force pushes you closer to the painting and the moment your fingers touch the rough wooden frame, your headache stops.

"Y/n, you're not allowed to touch the pai-"

Lia's voice gets quieter and quieter till your vision goes black and your body goes limp.

*

When your eyes flutter open after god knows how long, you find yourself in a rather unexpected place.

The room is bright. Too bright for your liking. Yet the sparkling white marble of the walls and floor look beautiful against the dark brown vintage furniture of the room.

You stir against the feather soft mattress of the bed when a concerned voice calls you from across the room.

"Oh my darling! You're awake!" The voice is gentle, "We were so worried about you, y/n."

Your vision is still hazy but you see the figure of a lady walking toward you.

"Um, where am I?" You ask, rubbing your temples.

Until a while ago, there was unbearable pain but now you feel fine.

"Oh dear," the lady sits at the foot of your bed, "You're home. Do you not remember?"

Home? Since when did home go from a 3 BHK apartment in the heart of the city to this huge, fancy room?

"There..there has been some kind of mistake, ma'am."

When you try to sit up, she pushes you back down. Gentle but insistent.

"Dear, you need to rest. The physician will be here in the evening and I am to stay here with you until Hyunjin arrives, okay?"

She smiles at you and finally, you are able to take a closer look at the woman. Her hair is graying but long, a silver crown rests on her head gracefully and she wears the most beautiful silk gown you'd ever seen. Her face is wrinkled yet when she smiles, one can tell that she must have been quite a beauty back in the day.

"W-who might you be, ma'am?" You ask, nervous, heartbeat in your throat.

You were excited when you saw the fancy room earlier but now it's getting real creepy. Why is this random woman talking to you as if she knows you?

"Oh, dear, y/n," She places a hand on your forehead, and you flinch, "I'm your mother in law. Queen Sayyu. Do you really not remember?"

Your breath gets caught in your throat.

Queen Sayyu. You'd heard that name before. That painting in that museum you were in. Lia was right beside you. What the fuck happened after that?

"I think you're mistaken, ma'am. I am a student. I cannot be married." You mutter, "Did you find my phone when I was brought here? I could call my friend. She must be around." Because there's no way Lia would leave you alone with this creepy old lady with some serious personal issues, right?

But then again, Queen Sayyu was a real person. And for all you know, her daughter in law did resemble you.

Did you perhaps travel back in time? Or was it just your brain making you see weird things?

"Phone? What's that?" She asks.

You sigh, and tap your thighs where your pant pockets once resided but now, your fingers slide across the softest silk.

"Where are my clothes?" You jump out of the bed, getting worried by the second.

Why were you dressed in a blue silk gown? You don't even remember ever buying one.

Panic seizes you when Sayyu tries to touch you, "Ma'am, would you please tell me what’s going on? I'm genuinely confused!"

"I am telling you the truth! You, y/n Princess of The Northern Kingdom was married off to my son Hwang Hyunjin a few months back. " she sucks in a deep breath, "Did you perhaps lose your memories after the accident? Did you hit your head too hard?"

You are about to open your mouth to reply when you hear a gentle knock on the door.

"Y/n, it's Hyunjin. "

Sayyu passes you a worried look before she rushes off to let her son in.

"It's worse than I thought, " you hear her whisper as the front door opens, "She has amnesia!"

You sit on the edge of the bed, running a frustrated hand through your hair.

As if the mother wasn't enough, the son is here too. Brilliant.

"Please talk to her. She is saying peculiar things like some thing called phones and some girl called Lia and she kept asking who I was!" Sayyu continues whispering to Hyunjin, with no active reaction from the latter.

You wonder if Sayyu was really stupid enough to think you couldn't hear her.

"I'll talk to her." A male voice finally replies, "You should rest, mother. You've been here all day."

For some reason, you cannot bring yourself to have a look at your supposed husband.

You have a fleeting memory of the painting you'd seen back at the museum but you weren't sure if the Prince really did look as attractive in real life.

You hear the front door open and close, and then heavy footsteps approach you.

"Is this some new plan of yours? Trying to get attention again?"

Wow. What the actual hell!

You snap your head to look at him, "Excuse me?"

But oh, boy was he beautiful. Long blonde hair, golden eyes and blue silk robes, he carried it all so elegantly.

"Y/n, please. I know you didn't actually lose your memories. So stop pretending and tell me why you are doing it."

For a second, you almost feel bad for yourself.

Well not you you but the princess you.

It must have been hard marrying someone like this. But then again, good looks hardly ever guarantee good behavior.

"I am not pretending. I genuinely do not remember anything, Hyunjin! Why do you have to be so mean?"

"If you really do not remember anything then why are fighting with me like you do always! See, I was right. You are lying."

You clench your jaw, frustrated, " I am fighting because whether I remember you or not, you're still a piece of shit!"

Hyunjin's eyes widen in shock. Of course he never expected his graceful wife to ever use such profanities. He looks betrayed.

"Now get the hell out of my room."

You climb back into the bed, cover your head with the quilt and shut your eyes.

Before you know it, you are sleeping soundly with no idea that your poor husband is spending the night on the sofa in your room

*

The next morning, you are woken up by your maids followed by the most delicious breakfast ever.

They prepare a bath for you, chose a gorgeous gown from the closet, and even style your hair. You do not even have to lift a finger to get these things done.

And all of a sudden, your odd reality doesn't feel as horrible anymore.

You remember the placard placed near that painting, and all your fears vanish. It was written that Prince Hyunjin and his wife would be killed in a few years and you are positive that when you die in this world, you will wake up in your original world.

Yes, the dying part is scary but might as well enjoy the luxury that comes with the fear.

In the afternoon, you find yourself sipping tea and breathing the fresh air of the rose garden behind your palace quarters.

"So you are...Nabi. My lady in waiting?"

Nabi is a cheerful, smiley young woman. She also seems to be closer to the princess version of yourself than most other maids.

"Yes, your Highness, " she sighs sadly, "It breaks my heart to see you like this. Do you really not remember anything?"

"Um, I remember some things. Like the king's and queen's name and princess Yeji. I also know that I am from the Northern Kingdom."

You also know that you'd die in around two years and Hyunjin's sister will make a painting to let the world know what a tragic story you had, but you decide to not say that.

Nabi pouts, "I'm sorry, your Highness. I wish I were there when you fainted. Maybe I could have helped you."

You tap your fingers against the porcelain cup in your hand, "Could you tell me exactly what had happened that day? Did I fall down? Or something else happened?"

"Oh, you didn't fall, no," she chuckles, "All the women of the Royal family were invited to this art gallery. While looking through some paintings, you suddenly fainted. We brought you back immediately."

"The physician check you and confirmed that you weren't pregnant, much to the Queen's dismay. She was looking forward to becoming a grandmother."

You almost spit the tea out, "What! Where did that even come from?"

Nabi smiles, "Well, why else would a newlywed bride faint? Anyway, I knew you weren't pregnant. You'd told me the prince and you haven't done that, you know."

Wow. The princess 'you' really told this girl way more than needed.

"And why exactly did I say we hadn't fu- I mean done that yet?" And now you were asking more than necessary.

"Because he's cold to you." She says, "But you know, even when you told me that, I knew he loved you and only you. He has never been involved with another and I saw him keep a portrait of yours in his private study room."

You are at a loss of words. How does one even react to this kind of information? Should you be happy for the princess 'you' or should you be jealous of her?

You force a smile, "How exactly did you find out about the portrait?"

"What portrait?" A male voice says from somewhere behind you.

Nabi and the other maids quickly get on their feet and greet their prince as this ethereal man walks out from behind the tall bushes.

"Hm? What are you guys talking about?" He asks, a gentle smile on his lips.

Oh so now he smiles?

"Just palace gossip." Nabi says, her gaze low.

"Is it true, my princess?" Hyunjin walks toward you and takes your hand in his, pressing his lips gently to your fingers.

You hate the way your cheeks heat up at the contact.

"Y-yeah. Obviously." You say.

He smiles widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Could you ladies please excuse us?"

When Nabi and the maids leave, you find yourself alone with the prince again and you're not sure how you feel about that.

Last night, he was so mean to you and now he's acting like a lovestruck man? What is the meaning of this?

You push him away, "What?"

He sighs.

Today, his blonde hair is tied half way up, and he wears a diamond crown. He looks more sophisticated from last night. More prince-like.

"What?" You demand again.

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday, okay? I'm still not convinced that you've lost your memories but can we put this behind us for a while?" He says, "Can you come with me to the study room? I have to show you something."

You follow him without question.

The palace complex is still a maze to you and other than your living quarters, you don't know much about the rest of the palace.

He leads you through a staircase to a huge room on the top floor of one of the buildings. Or was it the main palace where the king and queen resided? You weren't sure anymore.

"Yeji was very worried to hear about your amnesia, by the way." Hyunjin mutters as he lights the candles in the room, "She'll be back by next summer."

"Where has she gone?" You say, mindlessly staring at the huge collections of books in this place. A huge chandelier hangs from the center of the room and as the Hyunjin continues to light numerous candles and lanterns around the room, your eyes finally take in the whole picture of the room. For a second, you almost felt like you were watching a Renaissance period drama.

Hyunjin stops in his tracks, "y/n, do you really not know?"

He turns around and looks at you strangely, as if expecting your eyes to give away the truth of this supposed amnesia.

And when he sighs, you know that he didn't find what he desired.

"She's training under a really famous dance academy. If she's lucky, she might be able to clear her final year dance exams this year." He says.

You want to ask him if art doesn't interest her but that might make him doubt you again. You cannot afford to do that when Hyunjin is the only person here who you trust even slightly.

Nabi is honest and Sayyu is kind but you find it hard to match their energy.

"So what did you want to sho-" You stop mid sentence when your eyes fall on a huge painting behind Hyunjin's study table.

Your painting.

"It's me", you gasp, "It's..my portrait."

"Yeah. I just finished it today, actually." He rubs the back of his neck, "I'll hang it in your room once the paint dries."

In the painting, you are sitting on a chair, dressed in the finest white dress you'd ever seen. An elegant tiara sits on the crown of your head, and your lips are stretched into a smile.

"Hyunjin..." you are at a loss of words.

Nabi was right; Hyunjin did have a portrait of you in his study. What she didn't know is that he was the one who made the painting while all this while you were under the impression that Yeji was the artist in the family.

"It's good right?" He asks, unsure.

"Yes. I love it," you reply, "When is this image from?"

Hyunjin frowns at your words, again scanning your eyes as if looking for some hint of lies in your words.

"Y-you don't remember?" He asks.

"What?"

He sighs, looking rather disappointed, "It's from our wedding, y/n."

*

Hyunjin is starting to wonder if you'd actually lost your memories.

The next few days, he tries to subtly engage you in conversations regarding your wedding day and your life before getting married and by the time the week ends, he is sure you'd lost your memories.

He hated to admit it, but he did like the fact that you couldn't remember the times when he was so horrible to you.

Now he can start anew. A clean slate.

"You've been spending suspiciously a lot of time with me, Hyunjin." You had asked him one evening, munching up a cookie, "What's up?"

He chuckles; he's come to enjoy this new side of yours. It's a completely different version of your other self- the one who grew up training to be the lady of a house.

"Nothing," he grabs a cookie for himself, "We're having a ball this evening, by the way. It's mother and father's 30th anniversary."

Your eyes widen with excitement, "Really?! We're having a ball ball. Like we wear dresses and all? And we dance under a huge chandelier?"

Hyunjin is taken aback; you used to hate balls. Or any public gathering for that matter.

"Y-eah, well. Yes." He gulps.

"Oh my god. I need to talk to Nabi. I have so much to prepare, oh my god. Why are you only just telling me," you grab another cookie and sprint towards your room, "Also will there be a fountain where wine flows instead of water? That would be so cool!"

Hyunjin gives you a soft smile; no such fountain was planned for the ball but if it meant he'd see you this excited, he could pull a few strings.

*

The rest of the hours leading upto the ball is a blur; you only remember running from the dressing room to the ball room to your bedroom and back to the dressing room and as for Hyunjin, the day goes slower than ever.

He only got to see flashing glimpses of you running from place to place and somewhere, deep down in his heart, he missed your attention.

It was a jarring realization; him enjoying your company and attention and even craving it at times. He couldn't quite digest this unfamiliar feeling yet, he realised, he wasn't unwelcome to it.

"Are you ready? They're waiting for the Prince and Princess, y/n. We don't want the Royal families of other kingdoms thinking we were out doing something unholy now, would we?"

Hyunjin has this mischievous smile on his, leaning against the door Frame of your dressing room.

Is he flirting? You wonder.

You sigh, "I don't think I look good enough, Hyunjin. I look..weird."

You run a hand over the lustrous material of your ball gown. You feel very foreign in your body all of a sudden.

"I don't think so, my lady," Hyunjin steps into the room, a hand gentle on your waist, "I think you look breathtaking. What would you say, Nabi?"

Nabi hides a blush while you stare at your husband; wide eyed and mouth gaping.

What has gotten into him lately? Is he trying to annoy you or are these words coming from somewhere else?

You shake the latter thought away from your mind. How could this beautiful Prince from centuries before your time find you breathtaking?

Impossible.

You swallow your nervousness and turn on your heels.

"If you say so," you shrug, "Let's go, come on, Hyunjin. "

Chuckling softly to himself, Hyunjin follows suit.

The evening is great but you don't remember much by the time it ends; you somehow end up getting drunk on wine from the wine fountain and Hyunjin has to subtly carry you away from the ball room.

"Hyunjin ~" you slur as he covers your body with a duvet, "Do you ever wonder if a parallel universe exists?"

He lies down beside you, sighing, "Maybe. Why do you ask?"

"I know it exists. I am living proof that it exists, you know," you say, passionately, "I'm not bluffing."

Hyunjin laughs, " Of course, you're not. How could you lie?"

He pushes strands of hair behind your ear.

Your heart thumps against your chest; you love that feeling.

"If there was a parallel universe, I hope I end up with you." You giggle, snuggling into his chest.

Hyunjin freezes for a moment, breath stuck in his throat and eyes not even blinking.

But when he feels you relaxing into him, he let's his shoulders slouch.

"If there was a parallel universe, I hope I end up with you too."

The only reply he gets from you is a snore.

*

The next few months are smooth as the calm sea, pleasant as the spring wind, beautiful like the blooming of roses.

You'd come to adore Hyunjin- that was for sure. You'd come to love his presence and crave it everytime you guys were apart. He had become like the anchor to your ship; and you, his.

"Yeji's coming home tomorrow, by the way. How much do you remember of her?"

"Just her face," and the fact that when you're both killed brutally one day, she'd make a painting of you two, immortalising your love.

The thought causes your stomach to stir; you didn't want to go back to the reality you knew.

All of a sudden, you find yourself wishing you had more time with this man- this man who loved nothing more than lying in your arms, your naked bodies as close as one could get, this man who had made you feel safe when you were suddenly sucked into this unknown world, this man who loved you to death and beyond.

Hyunjin snuggles in closer(as if he could get any closer) and kisses your temple oh so tenderly. Then he moves to your cheek, then nose and then mouth.

His lips are plump and warm and inviting, and before you know it, you both find yourself falling into the wonderful ocean of pleasure. Over and over again.

The next day when Yeji arrives, you are skeptical about approaching her but she was more than happy to see you. Before the day ended, she'd already invited you to a tea party in the gardens, and by the week ended, you guys had become great friends.

She was just so comfortable to talk to and so friendly. She was so curious yet sweet. How could you not be her friend, you often wondered.

It was on one such afternoon picnic that Nabi came running to you.

"His Majesty is injured! He was attacked during his hunt."

You didn't waste a second before storming off towards his room, not caring for your supposed lady etiquette anymore.

No God, please, not yet.

You reach your bedroom, out of breath and sweaty, and Hyunjin was sitting at the edge of the bed, getting his wounds cleaned.

Your heart drops into your stomach.

There is a big gash on his arm; bleeding profusely even though the physicians were trying to stop it. There are blue and purple all over his face and stomach, and a few more smaller cuts on his entire body.

And he looked terrified and pale and sad.

"Hyunjin..." you run to him.

He looks up at you, teary eyed.

"Y/n...I'm okay." Is his first instinct, "Don't cry."

You sit beside him and press a long kiss to his temple, your heart feeling lighter when the physician signals to you that the bleeding has stopped.

"Who was it?" You ask

Yeji stands in front of the two of you; tears streaming down her face.

"Whoever it was, I'll kill them with my own two hands, goddammit!"

"Calm down, guys." Hyunjin sighs, "I didn't see a face. But they were wearing a very familiar perfume. I wonder who it could have been."

You swallow nervously, "Just..just stay safe okay?"

Hyunjin smiles at you, "Of course, my love."

An odd mixture of expressions grace Yeji's face.

*

While Hyunjin recovers, you make sure he does not step out of the palace unaccompanied.

You're getting his food tested, his room sanitized, and every gift that he receives has to go through multiple rounds of security checks. You know what is to come, but some silly, silly part of you wants to prevent it.

"You're being a little too paranoid, I think." Hyunjin tells you as the servants set up the dinner table for him, "I'm gonna be fine, y/n."

"Hyunjin, just," you sigh, reminding yourself to be patient with him, "Just please let me do what I'm doing. It helps me sleep at night."

With a gentle wave of his wrist, Hyunjin dismisses the servants.

He grabs your hand and pulls you in to sit on his lap.

"Y/n, I'm literally right here. I'm stronger than you think. I'm not planning on leaving you any time soon." He presses a kiss to your temple.

A wave of realization washes over you, and you find yourself tearing up, melting into his embrace.

How did you even come to love this man that you'd only ever heard of in history books? Was this even real? If you pinch yourself hard enough, would you wake up to a world where Hyunjin is not yours anymore?

"Just shut up, goddammit, " you say to him, "Hold me, please."

You say it like a request, but really, you were begging him to hold you. To make you feel safe, even if it's for a short while. Because for all you know, the end could be closer than expected.

That night, you and Hyunjin fall asleep in each other's embrace. There was nothing more pure, raw, or beautiful than what you felt with him. In a span of a few months, you'd fallen madly in love with the prince.

It's funny, huh, how you never found love back in the modern world yet here you were, sharing your whole heart with Hyunjin?

Maybe it was always meant to be like that and maybe when this beautiful daydream ends someday, you could look back at it and relish these memories.

"Y/n, get up." You're pulled out of your sleepy thoughts when you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. Urgent.

"Nabi? What time is it?" You whisper back, gently putting Hyunjin's head of the pillow, "What's happened?"

Nabi shakes her head, "The Royal investigators have got some news. A possible group of assassins is heading to the palace as we speak. My lady, we must rush you to safety immediately. The soldiers will escort the Prince."

Your heart hammers against your chest.

"I-I can't leave him. He's not recovered yet. He cannot fight!"

"Your majesty, please. I beg you," Nabi replies, "These are the orders of The Queen. I have to escort you to where the ladies are. "

With a tight throat, you quietly follow Nabi out of the room.

She leads you down through a secret tunnel between Your Palace and The King's, that leads to a dark corridor with a single metal door at the end.

"This way, your majesty. The princess and the queen are inside. I'll bring you news from to time so there's nothing to worry about." Nabi says as she unlocks the door from the outside. She passes the lantern to you.

The moment you step into the dark room inside, you hear a loud bang. You turn around in horror only to find the door closed in your face and Nabi gone.

"N-nabi?" You murmur nervously, "Why did you close the door?"

From inside the room, you hear a faint chuckle.

"She's gone, y/n. Left us to rot in this dungeon forever. "

"Yeji?"

You jog towards the tired, lifeless voice.

And when you reach the princess, what your lantern shows you horrifies you to the core.

"Your majesty!" You fall on your knees, grabbing the lifeless body of a once beautiful Queen who you'd come to adore over the years, "W-what happened?"

You're crying now; watching the princess caress her mother's cold face.

You're sobbing; watching the bloody hands of the daughter who tried to stop her mother from bleeding to death.

"Nabi is..", Yeji swallows, "She's a part of the resistance that wants to overthrow the monarchy. They want a military ruled government. It was her doing. On the day Hyunjin was attacked, I knew it was her."

You cry harder, moaning into your hands.

How could she?

"And I too, am at fault here. I made the mistake of befriending her so so many years ago," Yeji continues, "I paved her way into the palace. I'm as much as of a criminal as her."

You clear your throat, rubbing the tears off your cheeks and neck, another sob bubbling within your chest.

"We do not have time to repent things we had no control over," you say, "The Queen Mother is gone but we can still save your father and Hyunjin. "

"They've taken father to their military fortress. " Yeji says, her tone suggesting she's given up all her hopes. "He's as good as dead. "

"Then we save my husband."

"Y/n, how will we-"

"I saw the key. When Nabi unlocked the door, I saw the key."

"What about it?" Yeji asks, shifting.

"It doesn't have a key. It only has a numerical lock code."

Yeji lifts an eyebrow, as if to ask you "So?"

"It was 0143."

*

Leaving the Queen Mother's body behind, you and Yeji rush out of the door, grabbing every knife, sword, and other sharp object you could find in the dungeon.

"I think she must have taken Hyunjin hostage," Yeji says, rubbing the sweat off her forehead. "But since he cannot fight that well because of his wounds, they're probably interrogating him in your bedroom. "

"Interrogating him for what?"

"The keys to the Royal armory and the king's safe of gold."

Sure enough, you find Hyunjin in your bedroom. Except it wasn't your Hyunjin, it was a replica of

Queen Sayyu. Blood and blood and blood everywhere on his body. His eyes barely open but his hands, they pointed at you as you rushed in.

"Hyunjin!" You cried, kneeling by the bed side floor, "Hyunjin, please, hold on."

The room was empty except for the three of you. The furniture was broken and burnt and cupboards were clearly forced open.

"Did you give them the keys?" Yeji asks him, sobbing, "Mother died to protect those keys."

He coughs and leans into you, "I've alarmed the military. They are on their way."

"The rebels will be coming back too." He coughs again, "The keys are behind the painting in my study. Save them Yeji, run, now."

Yeji steadies herself as she gets up, "Come on, y/n. He said they might come back. "

Oh, but how could you? How could you leave the love of your life to bleed to his death alone while you escaped?

Moreover, this was the tragic end of your daydream, wasn't it? Dying together while Yeji survives and continues to rule the country.

"Go, Yeji, " you tell her, over the noise of the blood coursing through your ears, you hear footsteps, "Now!"

Yeji is a smart girl, you realize. With a hand over her mouth to suppress her sobs, she runs out of the room, without turning back even once.

When she is out of sight, Hyunjin fumbles to find your hand in the darkness. He's cold and stiff.

"If I disappear today, promise me you will find me. Promise me, please y/n." He manages to say.

You kiss his hand softly as the footsteps get closer, tears streaming down your face.

"I will find you. In every universe, in every timeline. I will find you, my love. " you say as you find a metallic taste in your tears and your vision goes black.

*

After what feels like a millennia, the darkness around you is finally replaced by a bright light.

It is too bright, but when you see a familiar face, your discomfort vanishes.

"Lia!" You throw yourself onto your napping friend, "Lia! Oh, I'm so happy to see you."

Lia though surprised at your outburst, returns your embrace with equal enthusiasm.

"I missed you too, y/n." She says, "I didn't know that picture would have such an impact on you. I was so scared when you passed out!"

Picture? What picture?

And suddenly, all the memories play in your mind like an old film. It's hazy, but you know what's going on.

You see blood, a crown, burning curtains, and..a blonde prince.

Hwang Hyunjin.

"Lia..", you sigh, your heart aching terribly, "How long have I been out?"

"Like around 36 hours or so. I don't remember. "She replies.

36 hours in this world and you'd already spent a lifetime in another. How utterly tragic.

"Y/n, what's wrong? You're tearing up." Lia says, offering you a tissue, "Are you in pain?"

You sigh, "Yes. I am in extreme pain, Lia. How could life have been so, so unfair to us?"

Lia gives you a confused nod, not really sure what had exactly led you to believe that life had been unfair to you.

"Y/n, what-"

Lia is cut off by a knock on the door.

"Ah. That must be the doctor." Lia jogs towards the door, "Just a second, Dr. Seo!"

"Um, hello," the doctor greets, "Dr. Seo is in urgent surgery. He sent me in his place to check on the patient. "

When the doctor steps in closer, your breathing gets stuck in your throat.

Of course, you know this man. How could you not?

You'd died with him in another world, in another time, in another life.

You'd loved him.

"I'm Dr. Hwang, Miss Y/n." The doctor says, a familiar expression on his face. He looks rather delighted to see you.

"I feel like I've seen you somewhere before." He chuckles to himself as he sits on the chair by your hospital bed.

"Yes, me too." These are the only words you manage to say.

[amateurvoltaire]

I'm still neck-deep in my studies of the Vendée, and what I've found particularly fascinating is that nearly every (1) prominent general not only boasts an impressively cool portrait but also sports a rather fetching nickname.

The nicknames are sourced from the Memoirs of the Marquise de La Rochejaquelein. How reliable is she? The lady lost her father and both her husbands in two separate Vendéen royalist uprisings, so she's hardly an unbiased chronicler. However, it's a reasonable assumption that, irrespective of one's views on the beliefs of these six men, they exhibited considerable courage and grace in their tragically brief lives—something even their Republican foes, begrudgingly, acknowledged.

Moreover, even if the cool monikers might be embellished, they're somewhat incidental to the broader mythos surrounding the Vendéen generals(2)

The truly intriguing part is the blatantly obvious piece of Royalist propaganda embodied by the six portraits and what they reveal—not so much about the portrayed subjects, but about the man who commissioned them: Louis XVIII (3).

Every Vendée General needs a Good, King-approved, Profile Picture

Now, I'm no expert on Louis XVIII, but he seems considerably more sensible than either one of his brothers. During their reigns, both the previous Louis and the subsequent Charles X appeared to have missed the memo that the times were changing, managing to piss off masses of people. Louis XVIII, in contrast, was painfully aware of the precariousness of his position. These portraits show as much.

Understandably, imagery during the First Empire tended to avoid commemorating the Revolution or acknowledging its victims. The Bourbon Restoration opted for a different tack: it sought to acknowledge the allegiance to the crown of those who opposed the revolution without reminding the public of the implications of such loyalty: namely war; a very bloody war.

In 1816, Louis XVIII commissioned a series of portraits to adorn the Hall of the Guards at the Palace of Saint-Cloud, depicting generals of the Vendée. Since he is often (apocryphally) quoted as saying that he owes his crown to the Vendée, the subject matter makes sense. The result, as you can see, was suitably glorious (4).

However, comparing these paintings to those of the Vendée created during the Third Republic by artists like Julien Le Blant, Paul-Émile Boutigny, Alexandre Bloch and many more reveals a notable omission: the blood, the violence, the enemy. Now, before you argue that it's just the era's style, go take a look at some of the paintings of Napoleon’s generals—many depict the enemy lurking ominously in the background. Yet, for portraits of six men who fought in a conflict so brutal it's sometimes termed a genocide, these images are remarkably sedate.

*Spoiler Alert*: It’s intentional.

Louis XVIII wasn’t an idiot. He clung to the throne by the skin of his teeth. Now, I’m speculating, but he probably liked his head enough to want to keep it firmly on his shoulders. He might have been grateful to the Vendéans and eager to indulge in a bit of old-fashioned Royalist propaganda, but he wasn’t about to spark another civil war over it.

Thus, these portraits, intentionally devoid of any overt warfare imagery, focus instead on symbols of monarchy and religion. We see the white flags of the Bourbon kings, rosaries, sacred hearts and white cockades adorning men who appear more like martial saints than soldiers.

Bonchamps's portrait lacks even a weapon (he holds a quill). In his painting, Cathelineau (5) is so laden with rosaries and crosses he might as well have raided the Vatican Gift Shop. Lescure's portrait drowns in Christian symbolism to the point of satire. Charette appears to be triumphant and is dressed in the outfit he had on when he entered Nantes after the Treaty of La Jaunaye. D’Elbee is an outlier, painted during the reign of Charles X after a decade of rosaries and white cockades, allowing the artist some leeway with the excessive symbolism.

Of all the portraits, that of Henri de La Rochejaquelein by Pierre Narcisse Guérin(6) stands out as the most striking. The young leader is portrayed in a dynamic posture, which projects a sense of forward movement and leadership yet avoids any overt display of aggression. La Rochejaquelein is the only one clearly portrayed amidst battle, in a heroic poise, aiming his gun at an invisible off-the-canvas enemy. Guérin gives us just a hint of the Republican army by showing the tips of Republican bayonets in the background—just enough to suggest opposition, yet not enough to relive the battles.

Notably, while dripping in Royalist symbols, his portrait eschews overt religious iconography beyond the Sacred Heart. In fact, the painting goes so far as to replace what is known to be La Rochejaquelein’s flag with a more royalist-focused one.

The Conspiracy of La Rochejaquelein’s flag

How do we know this? Well, the actual flag was preserved by the Beauregard family, whose ancestors held commanding roles in the Vendéen army. What’s written on the flag is not “Vive le Roi” (7) but “PRO ARIS REGE ET FOCIS”, translating to “For Our Altars, King, and Hearths”. Notice the order—king follows altars? Now, before you suggest that neither Guérin nor Louis XVIII could have known what was inscribed, I will concede that Guérin might not have, but Louis XVIII actually handled the flag a year before commissioning the portrait.

After Rochejaquelein's death, his comrades took the flag to Charette's army, which continued to use it. In 1814, one of Charette's former officers presented it to Louis XVIII. The king then gifted it to Louis de la Rochejaquelein during the 1815 uprising. After his demise at the Battle of Les Mathes, Auguste, the last of the three La Rochejaquelein brothers, preserved it until 1832 before, prior to his exile, bequeathing it to the Beauregard family, to whom he was related.

So, putting my metaphorical tinfoil hat firmly in place, I will conclude that it seems the King didn't want to share the dashing young Compte de la Rochejaquelein with the Pope.

Jokes aside, Rochejaquelein’s portrait was the first completed, likely reflecting the true intent of the King’s propaganda effort: to reaffirm a Royalist identity and provide a heroic image that could encourage unity rather than division. Over time, the overt Royalist symbols were toned down—probably because someone hinted to the king that he was being a bit much—but one element remained consistent: the absence of violence.

The remaining five Vendéean generals' portrayals as dignified, pious leaders rather than battlefield warriors are a rather perfect metaphor for the narrative Louis XVIII sought to promote throughout his reign—a narrative of reconciliation, remembrance, and a gradual, non-confrontational restoration of the monarchy to what he perceived as its rightful, almost divine, station. Essentially, Louis XVIII was too smart and fond of his head and crown to go all-in on the whole absolutist monarchy thing (8).

... If you've actually made it this far and read this whole thing, please know you're one of my favourite people in the whole wide world...

Notes:

(1) Apart from Stofflet, for reasons I won’t speculate on here because this thing is already over 2000 words long…

(2) This was all I intended to mention before I tumbled down a rabbit hole into the realm of early Restoration imagery and emerged with a mini-essay on early Restoration propaganda...

(3) the former Count of Provence and brother to the guillotined Louis XVI)

(4) The Louvre Collection has a number of paintings marked as being commissioned for the guard room in Saint Cloud. In chronological order, they are:  

Henri Duverger, comte de La Rochejaquelein - Guérin, Pierre-Narcisse (1816)

Louis-Marie de Salgues, marquis de Lescure (1766-1793), général vendéen by Lefèvre, Robert (1816)

Charles-Melchior-Artus marquis de Bonchamps (1760-1793), général vendéen by Girodet de Roucy-Trioson (1816)

Jacques Cathelineau (1759-1793) généralissime vendéen by Girodet de Roucy-Trioson  ( comissioned in 1816 but exposed in the Salon of 1824)

Pierre Jean Baptiste Constant, comte de Suzannet by Mauzaisse, Jean Baptiste(1817)

François Athanase Charrette dela Contrie by Guérin, Paulin (1819)

Louis Duverger, Marquis de La Rochejaquelein by  Guérin, Pierre-Narcisse (1819) – this is Henri de La Rochejaquelein’s baby brother, he died leading the Vendee revolt in 1815

Louis, comte de Frotté, général vendéen by Louise Bouteiller

Maurice Joseph Louis Gigost d'Elbée by  Guérin, Paulin (1825) – Comissioned by Charles X

Antoine Philippe de la Trémoille, prince de Talmond, général vendéen  by Cogniet, Léon - (1826) – Comissioned by Charles X

Louis-François Perrin, comte de Précy (1742-1820), général vendéen by Dassy, Jean Joseph (1829) – Comissioned by Charles X

(5) Fun fact: Cathelineau’s son stood for his father’s portrait

(6) Not to be confused with Guérin, Paulin

(7) According to his wife, this would have been Lescure's flag

(8) Very in character for a king who refused to be crowned. And this is a good thing. Especially seeing how his little brother turned out…

Sources:

Crosefinte, Jean-Marie. Les Drapeaux Vendéens.

La Rochejaquelein, Marie-Louise-Victoire. Memoirs of the Marquise de la Rochejaquelein.

Mansel, Philip. Louis XVIII.

[hellohimawarihana]

Yu-Gi-Oh Transformations, ranked by me

I did say in this post that Yu-Gi-Oh is no stranger to transformation sequence, but the more you look at it, it's like that all series had this in some degree, so I decided to rank them from least appealing to the most mind-blowing. It was inspired to this post, by the way. Unlike the protagonists ending post before, I'll include Go Rush!! as well, but I'll only include those from the protagonists and their main anime, so no Capsule Monsters or special episodes like Bonds Beyond Time, or supporting characters in that matter.

We'll start with the series that stood out the least, which is...

8. ARC-V

Yes, it’s pretty unappealing even for me. The Awakened version (left) are just him surrounded with aura and his mutated Z-ARC (right) is… not on my book.

7. Original / Duel Monsters

I ranked DM version a bit higher than ARC-V for this list. Yes, it’s the first and longest Yu-Gi-Oh series and therefore it’s iconic but Yami Yugi a.k.a. Atem didn’t really change clothes outside of making a cape jacket from his host. It’s still good that he manages to split into two selves for his partner later in the story.

6. Duel Monsters GX

It’s like Yami Yugi and Awakened Yuya because he spent some time being possessed by Haou / Supreme King (right), but Judai does had a control of his powers after gaining that and Yubel’s (left) powers and abilities, after that he doesn’t actually transforms outside the eye changes so I can’t rank him higher.

5. SEVENS

From demonic look to Sentai hero... Though unlike other series (except number 4 that will be explained later) these came off as one-off forms as he only wears the costumes in one duel with the process akin to early Metal Heroes series. But his roll call of The Yugaman (right) is cool, by the way.

4. 5DS

While the usual preparation before Riding Duel is pretty cool, this part stands out among my brother's favorite Yu-Gi-Oh series. Yusei just turns gold for his ultimate Synchro Summon technique, but it’s still cool. There’s even non-Riding Duel version on his Duel Links portrait too.

3. Go Rush!!

This recently airing series has the protagonist surrounded by blue (sometimes green) aura to turn back into his real, alien form. But it’s just “casual *flash* battle form” so I can’t rank him too high. But I like how he keeps doing this before his own duel, even when he doesn’t use this stock footage anymore starting in Season 2. And he’s unique among the protagonists as he’s one of the two capable of transforming on his own without outside source.

2. ZEXAL

The concept is similar to DM and GX, only this time Yuma merges with Astral and can de-fuse anytime unlike the latter series. Dark ZEXAL (top right) isn’t in my book and just a palette swap between the first ZEXAL form (top left), which is my favorite. But the other ZEXAL forms (bottom) are awesome too, evolving through Yuma and Astral’s bond. I just wish that the other forms appeared in Duel Links as a skill and not just his first form. Normally, this will be all-time favorite for transformation fans for Yu-Gi-Oh, but he’s ranked here because...

Well, you know who will be my top pick:

1. VRAINS

While I grew up with DM series, my interest took at peak after seeing Yusaku’s transformation sequence when he logs into LINK VRAINS or any cyberworld. It’s cool and flashy, and I like the blue background, even though his Playmaker form has barely any blue on it. The pocket dimension where Yusaku transforms fits its technology theme too. I especially like the hair part, just look of his cool face! And he can transform by himself, just like Go Rush!! series!

The only downside is like Go Rush!!, he doesn’t do this stock footage anymore after Season 1 Episode 30, any login after that is just offscreen or the intro survives but he’s just do the login in blue flash of light, which is disappointing, he even lack the double henshin with Takeru! (his adventuring partner who has the same animation when he individually transforms) But I do like the fact that the world unlock scene in Duel Links has this transformation sequence, which is a nice callback for the first episode where Playmaker’s transformation was shown for the first time, especially for the players who had finished the anime since spoiler alert: Duel Links’s VRAINS World takes place after the end of the series.

See more of VRAINS' henshin here.

[peraya-clownery]

Another Pe(ray)achtober piece for today (it’s Day 29 of Peachtober 2024), featuring another The Ex-Morning bit. At one point, I really wished Pathapee (Krist Perawat) and Tamtawan (Singto Prachaya) would have fixed their own issues, and I hope that they have given their relationship a second chance once they have forgiven each other for their shortcomings. That way, their torn couple portrait could have fixed (this is why today is #peachtober24break day)—you know, with a little bandage and some help from the Peraya bunch. :P (O HAI KING MAN!!! Like, King Man here represents every Peraya who looks forward to the series~~~~~ :P)

A broken couple portrait is one proof that Tam + Pee had gone through a breakup—not to mention, a messy background that emphasises their current state. Based from the plot GMMTV shared for a film festival in South Korea, this is going to be a drama with a little bit of action—especially that Patapee’s career has been marred by controversies, and someone out there is set to shoot him down. But hey, Tamtawan is also a red flag, and their breakup led to Patapee being a miserable snot to the point of him being abusive towards his co-workers. Like, WTF?!? :O

That's the point of having torn portraits: to invoke that Patapee and Tamtawan had broken up. The photo below is a print of the fan piece I used to make a series based on their breakup (not to mention, their tumultuous relationship), and you know how messy things have turned out for them~ T o T

Mess aside, it doesn't change the fact that I'm 110% hyped about The Ex-Morning. It has been so long since Krist + Singto had a BL drama together (read: SOTUS!!!), and I hope they could deliver us a great performance in The Ex-Morning this 2025~~~~~ :D

P.S. Krist has stated in his birthday charity event that The Ex-Morning fitting is scheduled sometime on November 2024. He also said that the shoot will start on 15~16 December 2024, so it is expected that the series will be out sometime in spring 2025, if not summer 2025. :P (Did I also mention that Lit Samajarn, the director of SOTUS, will also take the directorial role in Krist + Singto's comeback series? Now, that's going to be something for the books~~~~~ :D)

[scotianostra]

12th November 1094 saw King Duncan II killed at the Battle of Monthechin, near Kincardine.

We know very little about the battle, but a little background from the Annals of Ulster record that the "French went into Scotland and brought away the son of the king of Scotland as hostage" in 1072, which presumably refers to Duncan as any of his half-brothers (if then born) would have been infants at the time.

Duncan was kept in Normandy, Florence of Worcester in the Chronicon ex chronicis records that Robert III "Curthose" Duke of Normandy released "Ulfam Haroldi quondam regis Anglorum filium, Dunechaldumque regis Scottorum Malcolmi filium" from custody after his father's death in September 1087, knighted him and allowed them to leave Normandy.

He joined William II King of England and remained at his court in England. Florence of Worcester again records that Duncan served in the army of King William II, who supported his bid to depose his uncle, and to whom Duncan swore fealty before leaving for Scotland. He deposed his uncle in 1094 and proclaimed himself Duncan II King of Scotland after his brother's death but that "filius regis Malcolmi Dunechain" expelled "patruum suum Dufenaldum".

Another chronicle, The Annals of Inisfallen record that "Domnall son of Donnchadh" killed "Donnchadh son of Mael Coluim king of Alba" in 1094 and "took the kingship of Alba".

So to put it all together, Duncan was taken as a hostage to stop his faither, King Malcolm III, from attacking Northern England, he would not have been held as a prisoner, but brought up with the royal household of William I, eventually being knighted and taking a role in the English court. He would know his heritage though and must have had one eye on returning to Scotland and taking his place as King one day.

Malcolm meanwhile had given refuge to Edgar Ætheling, who seen himself as the rightful King of England, Edgar persuaded Malcolm to help him regain the English throne for The Wessex family......more on this tomorrow, but the upshot was Malcolm was slain and Duncan, with the Norman’s help took the Scottish throne in the Spring 1094. There was much opposition to this, especially from the Highland Scots who seen him as an outsider, and in November news reached the Highland army that Duncan was exposed, the army rode south to the Lowlands and confronted his nephew. On 12th November, Duncan was ambushed and killed in battle, having reigned for less than seven months.

As I said earlier not much is known about the battle and the Chronicles are a bit contradictory and really a bit confusing, but in the main they all point to Donald being behind the battle, one source says he was Duncan’s brother, but historians point out that he was more likely his uncle. Confused? Me too!

At the end of the day this was all down to the Gaels making a stand against the southerners taking control of the Scottish Crown, Donald III reigned for three years, being deposed by his half brother Edgar, another of Malcolm III’s sons, you could also say it was a family fight as two of Malcolm’s sons, Duncan, and Edgar and his brother Donald are all part of this story. Malcolm III influence did not only extend to those three relatives though, a further two sons, Alexander I and David I both went on to rule Scotland as Kings of the House of Dunkeld, a dynasty that only ended when Margaret of Norway perished in 1286.

The pic of Duncan, is one of the series of fictitious portraits of early Scottish kings by 17th century artist Jacob de Wet.

The sources from the chronicles come mainly from this source https://buist-keatch.org/buist/goring/3160.html

“Tune” in tomorrow for more background on Malcolm III and his demise.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

London (CNN) — An art historian has identified a missing portrait of King Henry VIII after spotting it on social media.

British fine art researcher Adam Busiakiewicz was idly scrolling on X when he was stopped in his tracks by a post from somebody he follows.

The post was a photograph shared by Tim Cox, Lord Lieutenant of Warwickshire, an honorary position representing the British Crown in the central English county.

It showed a gathering at a reception in Warwick’s Shire Hall, where Warwickshire County Council is based.

But Busiakiewicz wasn’t interested in the people smiling at the camera.

His focus was on the background where, hanging on a wall, was what he suspected was a missing portrait of the Tudor monarch Henry VIII.

In a post published on his blog earlier this month, Busiakiewicz said he had been “scrolling at speed” when he spotted the painting “with a distinctive arched top” on the wall.

He was immediately reminded of a series of 22 portraits commissioned by a local politician and tapestry-maker during the 1590s.

According to Busiakiewicz, Ralph Sheldon (1623–1684) commissioned the pictures – which were mostly of kings, queens and “significant contemporary international figures” – to hang in his home, Weston House in Warwickshire.

The reason they had arched tops was because they “were once incorporated into an architectural frieze of the Long Gallery at Weston,” Busiakiewicz said.

In a press release sent to CNN, Busiakiewicz said the arched top was a “special feature of the Sheldon set,” while the painting’s frame was “identical to other surviving examples.”

The painting also showed the king holding a sword and wearing a feathered hat – just as he appeared in an engraving of the Long Hall made by antiquarian Henry Shaw in 1839.

The series of portraits was later dispersed at auction and “the majority remain untraced to this day,” according to Busiakiewicz.

After making his theory public, Busiakiewicz visited Warwick’s Shire Hall together with local historian Aaron Manning to see the painting close up.

“The portrait is large, and completely in-line with the other Sheldon portraits,” Busiakiewicz wrote in a later blog post, on July 22.

In a telephone call with CNN, Busiakiewicz revealed that this was not the first discovery he had made thanks to social media.

In 2018, he stumbled across a picture a friend had taken at a wedding and posted on Instagram.

It featured a portrait that he identified as the work of 17th-century female artist Joan Carlile (1606–1679).

“Social media is a crazy thing,” Busiakiewicz told CNN, “because some people use it to watch cat videos and follow what’s going on in the world, and then people like me just look at what people have hanging on their walls.”

A spokesperson for Warwickshire County Council told CNN in an email that Busiakiewicz and Manning approached them about the painting and arranged to come and see it.

“Adam and Aaron viewed the painting at Shire Hall, and have confirmed they think it is definitely one of the Ralph Sheldon commissions,” the spokesperson wrote.

“Since this discovery, the painting has been moved into our Museum Collections Centre to allow further research to take place.”

Busiakiewicz told CNN that the identity of the painter is not known, but the creator of the portraits is sometimes referred to as "The Sheldon Master.”

He is now working on trying to establish the painting’s provenance.

It was acquired by the council as recently as 1951 but there are gaps in the records.

“Provenance is always such a really tricky thing - it’s very hard sometimes to find, particularly when pictures are sold privately. But there’s no doubt that this is Ralph Sheldon’s painting of Henry VIII,” he said.

“Looking at paintings and pictures of paintings is my life and it’s great fun, particularly when you can in some way right a historic wrong, let’s say.

Pictures that are overlooked, pictures that aren’t appreciated as much as they might be.”

[galleryofart]

The Parasol

Artist: Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes (Spanish, 1746-1828)

Original Title: El Quitasol

Date: 1777

Style: Romanticism

Genre: Genre Painting

Media: Oil on Linen

Location: Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain

The Parasol (also known as El Quitasol) is one of a cartoon series of oil on linen paintings made by the painter Francisco Goya. This series of paintings was specifically made in order to be transformed into tapestries that would be hung on the walls of the Royal Palace of El Pardo in Madrid, Spain. The tapestries showed serene events in everyday life, which made them a nice addition to the dining room of Prince and Princess of Asturias—the future King Charles IV and Maria Luisa of Parma. The queen called on Goya because she wanted to decorate the dining room with cheerful scenes; The Parasol and the other tapestry paintings were Goya's response to this request. The painting is currently located in the Museo del Prado in Madrid as is another in the series, Blind man's bluff.

On July 25, 1773, Goya married Josefa, the sister of Francisco Bayeu. Bayeu was a member of the Royal Academy of Fine Art and helped Goya to secure his place with the Royal Tapestry Workshop. He designed 42 patterns in five years that would soon insulate and decorate the walls of the Palacio Real de El Pardo. This series of tapestries demonstrated Goya's talent enough to give him access to the Royal Court, and drastically change his career. Goya went on to expand his patrons and paint for many royal court members, such as the Count of Floridablanca, of whom he painted a portrait under commission. This all led up to the peak of Goya's career, during the reign of Charles IV, right after the French revolution. He saw a painting of Big Ben

In his paintings, Goya often joins French fashion to the Spanish one. The woman in this particular painting is sitting on the ground, possibly resting from a long walk. She is dressed in French style, according to the time period. She is holding a fan in her right hand, while a little dog is cuddled in her lap. The young man is holding the parasol (umbrella) in order to shade the woman's face. He is dressed in the so-called majo style, meaning he is dressed like a poor person for the time period. His hair gathered in a net, and his belt is made of colorful silk. In the background we can see dark clouds in the sky and the trees swaying in the wind, possibly signaling a storm coming. The painting has very calm warmth it emits, which is then offset by the tree that seems to be blowing in pretty strong wind. The way the boy is standing, with one foot on the rock and one not, he seems to be triumphantly shading the woman from the harmful rays of the sun, and the possible storm.

From 1775 to 1792 Goya painted his cartoons (designs) for the tapestries. This was his first genre of paintings and possibly the most important period in his artistic development. Painting the tapestries helped Goya become a keen observer of human behavior, which helped him paint his future paintings. Goya was influenced by neoclassicism, which was gaining favor over the rococo style at the time. This particular painting is considered classicism for its relation to everyday life. Around this same time, Goya began painting portraits for many of the Spanish Monarchs. This was his first popular success that ultimately changed his career. He was then elected to the Royal Academy of San Fernando in 1780, named painter to the king in 1786, and made a court painter in 1789.

[jonthegiraffe]

Virtual Sketchbook 2 assignment

1.

Unity- Unity is to have identical shared traits with a thing. For example, in my room, my wall is a warm color throughout but that's it. There are not two colors but one.

Variety- It is to have different traits from other things. For example, in a dirty laundry bin, there will be a variety of different types of apparel like pants, socks, and shirts. Each of them also has a variety of colors and patterns on them.

Balance- It can be achieved through symmetry or asymmetry according to the book though personally, I find it to be more synonymous with symmetry rather than asymmetry. For something to be symmetrical, it must have matching sides. For example, A classical guitar has matching sides. Asymmetry is unequal sides or forms. An example of this could be the painting, The Great Wave of Kanagawa.

Emphasis and subordination- Emphasis refers to a focal point. It is something that draws your attention. For example, if you are looking at a portrait, usually the face is the focal point. Subordination is the act of categorizing less interesting areas of the painting. In The Last Supper, the background is of lesser importance than the main figures

Directional force- It is the paths of the art piece that direct your eye to certain parts of the painting.  In a real-life example, you might look at the end of a long street. The directional force is going to go through the end of the road.

Repetition- is a set frequency of visual elements in a painting. An example of this could be identical houses in a neighborhood

Rhythm: A way to create repetition is rhythm and to have repeated variations of things and also the visual flow of an art piece like The Starry Night by Van Gogh.

Scale- the size of a thing compared to another thing. For example, the size of myself compared to a kitten.

Proportion- The size of any of parts to a whole. For example, the size of a person's eyes compared to their face.

The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo Buonarroti on 3.8 in the book

2.

Focal point: The focal point is the space between the space of Gods and Adams forefingers.

Implied lines: The arms of Gods and Adams.

Color contrast: The body of God including the red cloth that's around Him and the  body of Adam including the green grass that he sits on are all warm colors which are contrasting the cool colors in the background.

3.

The last question is a tough one. I think The colors I would have are definitely green and orange. Green to me represents life and health and orange represents happiness. I think I would also add red because I am at that part of my life where there is definitely more stress than usual.

4. Spoilers for The Dark Tower by Stephen King

This is a painting I made with gouache. Now I know I said spoilers but Roland reaching the dark tower is the whole premise of the book series. Of course, he was going to make it. I am really passionate about stories and the characters. Roland showed bravery, resilience, and stoicism but also had some fun during his journey however slight it might have been. The best way to describe the story in a few words would be an interdimensional cowboy odyssey. I also found it to be heartwarming how he paid respect to all the people who helped and it definitely gave me goosebumps and put a huge smile on my face due to the power of the words. He also has the kindness to help other people.

This is another painting I made for the assignment

This is Ellie Williams from the Last of Us video game series. I know technically I did not have to put another painting but I just wanted to talk about it. Ellie shows also a lot of resilience in the games like Roland though she does end up with PTSD but still finds the strength to keep finding the strength to locate the source of her pain.

5.

List of logos around my room

Swiss army knife logo

Playstations logo

Alisa Chung/squid art logo

Switch logo

Apple logo

Lego logo

Logitech logo

Steam logo

I know about these logos because they have been around me for all or at least a large portion of my life. It also has to do with the fact that some of these logos are related to my hobbies which is also why I am familiar with them like PlayStation. How do I understand the value of these logos? It is from the viewpoint of the customer that the value is most prominent. A good logo can differentiate you in a marketplace like a mall. For example, Apple has a simple yet effective logo because of the status of the brand of technology they have.

The reply I made to another student. Note: I made the reply to a student in another group because I was the first person in my group to make a post on the night the assignment was due so I just replied to a student in another group because I had other homework to do and forgot about it.

Reply:

Hello Aiden. I noticed you added an interactive logo whereas I only discussed business or studio logos which I thought was very interesting for you to do. I have not ever used Spotify but I mostly have used YouTube for music because it is free but not free if you're out of the house using up data. YouTube is the logo I am most familiar with though I noticed over long periods, the logos changed. For example. The YouTube logo used to be a Television for the app.

[viofitz]

Storm Collectibles Samurai Shodown: Nakoruru (Review)

Introduction:

Storm Collectibles is a Hong Kong based designer and manufacturer of action figures. Known for making officially licensed, collectible action figures, most notably from fighting game series and iconic figures. Aside The King Of Fighters series, they also aquired the license to make Samurai Spirits/Samurai Shodown action figures. The figures were made into 1/12 scale with feature numerous points of articulation, interchangeable head sculpts and pairs of hands, and special fighting effect parts. Today, the review is going to focus on Nakoruru, she was given with a standard boxart like Blue Mary and Jin Kazama. With a visible large window plastic, we can almost see the whole contents. The front part was printed with "Samurai Shodown" logo with Nakoruru name in both japanese and romaji, her Samsho render artwork portrait, age 17+ print which means the figure is for 17 years old or above. And SNK corporation logo prints. While the back part is mostly shown the figure's promotional photos showing how the figure works.

Contents:

Nakoruru comes with her main figure, she's included with 3 interchangeable head sculpts in total, 5 pair of hands in total, Mamahaha figure along with his option body parts, Chichiushi dagger with the sheath and dagger's slash effect for her certain dagger scenes. Her background paper inside the box is a diorama stage of Kamui Kotan's forest in Autumn weather.

Nakoruru is a Japanese Ainu teenager girl with small and slender figure, she has long hime cut black hair with blue shades. Her getup was based on Ainu clothing consisting white dress with red trim and some part has navy blue trim & motives. Red bow tie headband, her headband has some yellow lines. And brown boots. She was depicted to be a petite girl with a lovely appearance and personality with an "innovative" character.

Her articulation points consisted movable head, torso which is hidden underneath her clothing, arms with bicep cut, single jointed elbow, wrists, legs with thigh, single jointed knee, leg cut, ankles and tiptoe part. Like Jin, her gauntlets are movable and also removable since it's separate pieces so, we can see her bare lower arms but, her back hands wears knuckles. Her knuckles may look funny as there's no wrist band but, all depends your point of view on posing her. What I really hate from her is that single jointed are very inconvenients since I couldn't make a dynamic pose, especially when it comes to folding her elbows and knees.

Nakoruru was included with 3 head sculpts (HS) in total, first would be her standard flat expression. Second HS is her serious expression with a grit and third is her cheerful smile with open mouth. Well, her face and expressions are looking rather gentle like how she was depicted but, like Mary she felt kinda bland and empty. Her head consisted removable bow tie, back hair and head band. Yes, it's swappable but, I don't understand on having removable 3 headbands and bow tie since all headbands are identical and swappable to every hair parts. Her HS, back hairs as well as her bow tie head bands are mostly made from hard materials but, her fringes were made from a soft rubber... Sadly, some of her eyes paintapp are rather sloppy, although they surprisingly didn't really bother me.

Nakoruru comes with 5 pair of hands in total, that would be: fisted hands which was already attached to her main figure, 3 kinds of unique open splayed and gripping hands for her necessary battle poses. Her hands were also made from soft rubber materials.

Nakoruru's weapon is none other than her Chichiushi dagger. They came with dagger and sheath and the sheath usually stored on her rear holsters. However, instead of having a separated sheath, I'd rather prefer they'd just make a single dagger and the sheath remains glued or just one mold to the rear holsters. When you take off the sheath from the holsters, it leaves a paint transfers. To be honest, her dagger is way too small.

Chichiushi Dagger's slash effect. Of course, the dagger won't be good without this especially on how small they're made. The effect was made from a soft rubber material and you can simply inserts the hole into the dagger's blade. The effect was made from a semi transparent materials that is mainly translucent yellow.

Her Mamahaha accessory were also included for her companion during her fight, I gotta say, they did good on the sculpt although it's not something special since he's quite similar to many animal figures that was sold by many toy companies. Except, Mamahaha was included with option parts of wings and legs, his head is movable but, not quite much. With his alternate legs you can hang his claws on Nakoruru's gauntlets. And with his spreading wings part you can either make his flying pose or you can even make Nakoruru hanging her hands on his claws by using Nakoruru's grasping hands.

Lastly, her diorama stage was a printed of the Kamui Kotan's forest in Autumn weather background which is really fitting for Nakoruru who loves nature.

Thoughts:

Nakoruru is my third Storm figure collection but, contrast to my previous reviews... Nakoruru appeared to be very disappointing in quality, she got so many sloppy paintapp and paint transfers due to her folding fabric and her single jointed articulations are very-very inconvenients. Mamahaha doesn't come with his flapping wings which is important for his battle stance. She's also lacking her Kamui Rimuse clothing part which was actually one of Nakoruru's iconic moves. A pointy finger hand would be needed for recreating Nakoruru commanding Mamahaha. I gotta admit, I had a terrible time handling the figure, although I could still make tons of her other move lists from the game.

Thank youu for reading😁🙏🏻

[skeysesil]

I studied Alexander the Great's life to a stupid extent, to the point where I would spit out random trivia about him to my friends, wrote my master's thesis on him, and presented a project on him during a course in Uni, he was actually my first historical crush, and still love him. Homeboy set the foundation for a lot of military strategies BUT most of them were taken from his father, and even from King Darius III. These strategies, later on, would be used in battles by other warriors, and this is mentioned in a couple of episodes in season 2, which I highly appreciate.

Now, back to the main point.

They did in fact try to force the idea that Vlad hated his father for "abandoning" him and Radu, and not that his anger was motivated by the way the Ottoman Empire and the Hungarian empire treated him. He was, unfortunately, a pawn, who got tired of being played around so he decided to strike back. Just like any other animal, wounded once or cornered, strikes back. Vlad and Mehmed had different political points of view, and military, they were brothers in arms as children, but when you try to attack and invade my lands, I will do everything I can to destroy you. Vlad was indeed a proud man and he came from a line of actual warriors, the throne, Wallachia, were rightfully his.

He was never a monster, he was only correct, more so, actually, he offered honorable execution methods to those who wronged him, but to match their social status.

Of course, the series puts Mehmed in a "glamourous" light because he is the hero, and Vlad is portrayed as a savage, but what a lot of people don't understand is that this is a child who was taken from the safety of his home, TAKEN, not given away, as episode 1 shows, with which I have an immense issue for the way Vlad Dracul is portrayed, entirely out of character, had to stand up for himself every day and also protect his younger brother, they both were among strangers, among the enemy, his father was decapitated, and Mircea, his older brother, was tortured, his eyes pecked out, and buried alive the same night. A child should never suffer such terrors, regardless of age or background. Mehmed had everything and more, Vlad was suddenly no one's.

In 1979 a movie was made, Romanian production, focusing on Vlad's second reign, of course, it is political and made during the communist era so you are not given what you see today, but still, an impeccable performance by Ștefan Sileanu. In 2015, if I am not mistaken, Bogdan Jianu, for 3-4 years, portrayed Vlad during medieval summer festivals held at Târgoviște, and Bogdan was, without a doubt, the closest portrayal of Vlad, as a voivode and military strategist, there ever was. Now, with Rise of Empires: Ottoman season 2, Daniel managed to give us a more human Vlad, a prince of Wallachia who was sarcastic, proud, tired of hearing about Mehmed being introduced as the sultan of sultans, etc, a Vlad who was betrayed, a Vlad who was frustrated, a Vlad who was not shown as a man of steel frowning 24/7.

All these three men helped paint the portrait of Vlad Basarab III, Vlad Drăculea, Vlad Țepeș, or as how the majority knows him, Vlad Dracula.

It takes a Romanian to bring back to life a Romanian, not Hollywood, not a foreigner.

Also, before I end, all three of them are water signs, Vlad himself was a Scorpio.

the reason why Daniel even played Vlad was because there were some people at Netflix who insisted on having a Romanian do the job

they messed up a lot in the series with the given information, those foreign historians are wrong, but the series is told from the turkish perspective, I am bitter but I am also thankful for giving a Romanian the chance to portray one of the heaviest names in history, as he should've been from day 1.

Daniel was a monster, in the best way possible, on screen

Loooool, so it wasn't even because the guys making the show were trying to be accurate this time around?

Yes, I am totally expecting to see a lot of propaganda in s2 too, how Vlad was a monster who had a pathological hate against the Ottomans, but nothing about how that monster was created and why he hated them.

I am rolling my eyes everytime I see someone calling the series unbiased, when it's crystal clear to me that they only care, as you said, for the Turkish POV.

Anyway, the only thing we can hope, is that one day, other countries (especially under-represented countries) will be given the chance to show their history on such large platforms as well. Casting a Romanian to play Romania's most well-known historical personality was a good move.

[justforbooks]

Isabella Eugénie Boyer was a French-American model and heiress. She was born in Paris to Louis Noël Boyer, an Africa-born French confectioner, and his English-born wife Pamela Lockwood (aka Pamilla). She married Isaac Merritt Singer, the founder of the Singer Sewing Machine Co., in New York City, in 1863 when Isaac was 52 and Isabella was only 22. Singer had a previous common-law wife, Mary Ann Sponsler, who had Isaac arrested for bigamy.

Isabella and Isaac moved to Paris, then to Oldway Mansion in Paignton, on the Devon coast, because New York society frowned on his many "families." They had six children; Sir Adam Mortimer Singer (1863—1929), Winnaretta Eugénie Singer (1865–1943), Washington Merritt Grant Singer (1866–1934), Paris Eugene Singer (1867–1932), Isabelle-Blanche Singer (1869–1896) and Franklin Merritt Morse Singer (1870–1939).

Isaac Singer is reported to have had a total of 22 children with his many paramours. Singer died in 1875 and left an estate of about $14 million, which at the time was a colossal sum of money. His two wills created family tension and lawsuits. Isabella was declared his legal widow.

On 8 January 1879, Isabella married a Dutch musician, Victor Reubsaet, and settled in Paris. Victor was an internationally successful singer and violinist. He was born in 1843 in Sittard, as Nicolas Reubsaet, a son of a simple shoemaker. Pretending to be of noble descent, he falsely claimed the title Vicomte d’Estenburgh. In 1881, he did obtain the title of Duke of Camposelice from Italian King Umberto I, in appreciation for a generous act of philanthropy in favor of the Italian colonies.

The Duchess of Camposelice was still a striking lady when she met the sculptor Bartholdi. It is rumoured she was his model for the Statue of Liberty, however this claim may not be correct.

Victor Reubsaet died in September 1887 and Isabella was married, for the third time, in December 1891, to the art collector Paul Sohège.

Isabella Eugenia Boyer died at 62 years of age in 1904 in Paris.

In March 2022, an image supposedly showing Isabelle Boyer-Singer was widely circulated on social media, along with the claim that she was the original model for the Statue of Liberty. Well, that image still continues to circulate on the internet with the same caption, but it is not a photograph of Isabelle. It isn’t a photograph at all. It was created by photographer Bas Uterwijk in 2021, as part of a series of “AI portraits” of historical figures. Born in Amsterdam, Bas has a background in computer graphics, 3D animation, and special effects.

Anyway, while the Statue of Liberty is undoubtedly Bartholdi’s most famous work, he was very well known for another project. Years before he began the Lady — a gift from the people of France to the people of the United States, dedicated on October 28, 1886, and named Liberty Enlightening the World, in French La Liberté éclairant le monde — Bartholdi was hired to design a statue planned for the entrance to the Suez Canal in Egypt. A project inspired by ancient giant Egyptian statues and, eventually, to the Colossus of Rhodes, but that was never actually built due to high expenses.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[unhinged-summer-fun]

triptych

The Thief x Marcus Pike x F!Reader (22+)

chapter 6: the fool

series masterlist | taglist | previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: A thief, an artist, and the head of the Art Crimes program in the FBI all share a soul-bond. What could go wrong?

Series tags/warnings: Sexual content, art crime, light angst, art history and criticism, soulmate-identifying marks, slow burn, f!reader, a reader who doesn’t always do the right thing.

A/N: Hey I know it was a while but we’re back!!!!!!! Only took watching a 13 minute video about a Faberge goldsmither. <3 More in-depth descriptions of the six paintings are found in the previous chapter.

The gallery felt like a game of high-stakes chess. Art enthusiasts from around the D.C. area had come to view your paintings, dressed in black and white and sometimes gold. You moved through the crowd like a minnow among sharks. Every so often, you’d meet the eye of someone in a suit jacket and they’d nod just so that you knew they were part of the sting. Each of these occurrences would follow with you turning on your heel and striding in the other direction, feeling like you might vomit.

Mx. Crawford had been delighted with your paintings and the frames you’d stayed up making yourself. They were meant to represent the emotions behind the painting. For The Old King, the wood surrounding it was dilapidated, splintering in areas, and deeply gouged like it had been to war. For Eye of the Beholder, plain untreated juniper wood, with heavy iron nails at the corners, a little much for just an eight-by-eight portrait, but you felt that expression had no minimum. Around Dying Flame, a Faberge-style hoarfrost border made of intricately-folded pieces of bright silver gave the effect that though winter crept into the frame, the flame would continue until it had consumed all. Allegory of the Locked Window had no frame to it, which was risky, considering the lack of failsafe trackers on the canvas itself. Marcus’s nude, the modernly-titled Boyfriend in Repose, had an elaborately-carved pattern in the thick dark mahogany frame, representing bedposts where there were none in the canvas.

The final and unexpected addition to your collection was Solas’s portrait, which you’d done studies of back in Chile and worked on in secret whenever Marcus was at work. The frame was gold-leafed and beveled to catch the light and reflect it onto the painting itself, highlighting the gold-leaf details you’d added over his face and certain paintings in the background, after using archival mediums to remove later. It had been a last-minute decision to cover his face, and in all honesty, you weren’t too pleased with it. In certain lights, it was Solas, smirking over at you from his throne, and in others, it was Marcus, warm and fantastical in a room full of beauty. It was called A Dragon and His Hoard, and you were honestly most worried about that one going missing before you had the chance to give it to the man who would steal it.

The night had started off with some beautiful words spoken by Mx. Crawford, gushing over your skill and ever-evolving personal style. You hadn’t found anything of a personal style of yours in years. It was easier to hide behind the brushstrokes of others.

It had evolved into polite conversation, congratulations, and perhaps a few too many glasses of wine grabbed off of the passing servers. You wore a high-necked dress that covered your jaw to wrists to ankles, hair styled out of your face as much as you wanted to hide behind it. Marcus had kissed your cheek and called you beautiful, and you wished the flip in your gut was because of that.

Almost immediately, you felt Solas in the gallery. Your chest ached in the familiar way you’d discovered meant him at El Palacio, and it took everything in you not to rub over your mark and give it away. Marcus thought your stoicism was nothing but nervous professionalism, the way your eyes flitted around the room and you avoided staying in one place for too long. In truth, you were playing a game of hot and cold with your soul-bond, avoiding Marcus’s sunlight-and-honey feeling to seek out the hearth-and-wine feeling that came with Solas’s eyes on you.

You found him in front of A Dragon and His Hoard. He wore possibly the least-ornamented outfit you’d seen him in yet, a slightly ill-fitted blue suit with his hair hanging in greasy strands in front of his eyes, smudging over a pair of wire-framed glasses. If it weren’t for the way your soul sang at the sight of him, you would have looked right past him, just as he’d planned. You walked up beside him to look at the piece.

“It turned out better than I expected.”

“You wound me.”

“An FBI sting? You’re one to talk about wounding.”

Shit. “I haven’t told them.”

You felt his eyes on you, fiery. “You seem to be very good at omitting things, stellina.”

“What would you have done in my place?” you hissed. “Break a bond before it’s settled?”

Solas glared at you from over top of his glasses, and you held your gaze true at the gilded version of him before you. You felt the need to continue speaking.

“Marcus is here.”

“I know that.”

“Then why stay? Do you want to get caught?”

He scoffed. “I don’t get caught.” You rolled your eyes at him and gestured to the painting, as if you were describing your process to a man who already knew your soul inside and out.

“You better not,” you said, your voice softening to almost nothing. For the first time, you turned your head and faced him head-on to see his expression. “The canvases are being tracked. You can’t steal these.”

His face soured, lip curling a little. “After all the work you did to track me down, you want me to just—”

“I did not—”

“Everything alright here?” a man said, walking up. He looked to you and nodded. You fought the urge to scream.

“We’re fine. Just a disagreement about my motives,” you said icily, and you watched Solas slip back into character. His voice grew more heavily accented, nasally and tight.

“Perhaps you think your choices were your own, but in actuality, they were by some divine hand,” he sneered. You could still see the anger in his eyes.

“Perhaps we can criticize later, when there aren’t as many people around to play nice in front of, Mr. House.” You watched his mouth curl in indignation.

“It’s Mr. Mansion.”

“Perhaps you should stick to architecture.”

“Perhaps you should—”

“Is there a problem?” Marcus said, appearing almost out of nowhere. You watched Solas’s eyes widen, his mouth going a little slack at the sight of him, and you knew you had to act fast. Solas may not have gotten caught yet, but there was still reason for Marcus to detain him at the sting.

“Mr. Mansion was just leaving. I hope I don’t hear from you in the Herald.”

“My blog will hear of this,” he sneered again, and stormed out, leaving you with a lingering, longing look as he went.

Relief flooded you, taking you so off guard you didn’t notice Marcus had pulled you to the side, out of sight, until he was tilting your face up to look you in the eyes. “Are you alright? He didn’t try anything, did he?”

You sucked in a breath and shook your head. “No, I’m simply stressed over this entire thing. I mean, what if he’s here?” It killed you to lie again, especially after feeling how telling Solas the truth nearly hurt you to do. You wanted nothing more than to go and check your soul-mark in the mirror, but you didn’t feel like stripping down to your skivvies in a public restroom just to see if the colors had faded.

“If he is here, then…” Marcus swallowed and looked back at the hall, like he was trying to hold back whatever he was truly feeling. You knew the feeling well. “We’ll get him.” He gave you a smile, but it felt shallow, and you hated knowing why.

The moment Solas had walked out the door again, you felt it, felt the hurt through the bond, the chill setting in, and you were doubly sure Marcus felt something similar, though perhaps not for the same reason as you.

He’d done nothing wrong.

##

The rest of the showing went as predictably and successfully as you’d expected. The five commissioned paintings would remain on display here in D.C. until the government collected them, or did whatever they wanted with them, really. You would miss having them around, but they were a constant reminder of your near-betrayal, now. After two weeks of late-night stakeouts and days of denial, Marcus finally admitted that the thief was never going to come.

He was devastated, of course. He’d been so sure they’d get the thief at least to D.C., if not the opening night of the exhibition. He’d felt, a few times at the gallery night, that the thief was there with them, that he just had to reach out and he could touch him, but by the time it was just janitorial staff, you, and his agents at the gallery, he had no answers for any of them.

Things cooled down over the next month or so, Marcus falling into a blue period and growing a slight depression beard as a result. You died inside every time he would return to your studio, sigh, and shake his head. No leads, no stolen art. Seeing him this way, feeling him so saddened by this mess, you thought of ways to cheer him up, or at least shake him from the funk.

“Let me take you to dinner,” you said. “I know a place you’ve never been.”

He looked up from his historical fiction novel and gave you that confused puppy face, complete with a head tilt that made your insides warm like summertime. “I’ve lived in D.C. a few years now, I dunno if you can surprise me.”

“Of course I can.”

You told him the dress code was D.C. fancy, so you both showed up on Penn Ave in nice jeans, black shirts, and your nicest sneakers. “Is there a restaurant in there?” he asked when you walked up. “It looks like someone’s house.”

“It’s a restaurant. Friend of a friend told me about it.” You led him inside, where you were met with cocktails first, and a greeting second. Marcus, flustered, took the drink you pressed into his hand, and you took a breath before telling the maitre-d, “I called ahead. The della Palazzo table?”

Their demeanor changed from open and casually friendly to eager and accommodating, leading you through the rest of the dining room to a set of dimly-lit stairs that led to the roof. The roof was a lush gardenscape of chive blossoms, kale, tomatoes, wheatgrass, herbs, and root vegetables that bloomed beautifully in the late summer sunset. In the middle of it all was a table set for two, lit by romantic candlelight.

“The owner has prepared a special menu for you tonight, provided on the menus at your table for your review. Our sommelier has paired wines for each course, and of course, if you would like anything else with your meal, your personal waitstaff can be flagged by pressing this button.” They handed you a small remote, and after seating you both and pouring some water, disappeared among the greenery.

“Alright, you definitely know how to surprise me,” Marcus said, looking around him in awe. “This… this place is beautiful.”

“Truth be told, I’ve never been here before either,” you admitted, sipping your cocktail.

“How much is this dinner going to cost? Private menu from the owner, wine pairings, special seating, personal waitstaff, I saw the Michelin star on the way in—”

“Marcus,” you said, reaching across the table to hold his hand. “It’s taken care of. The friend of a friend has riches you can’t even imagine, and he told me to drop his name here when I wanted to eat something other than takeout.”

Marcus didn’t look completely convinced, but he looked around again, and with a sigh, decided to accept and enjoy it. He’d been doing that a lot more recently, like the outside stresses of the world had been weighing on him so greatly that he’d rather ignore them for awhile than deal with them.

“Thank you,” he whispered, before drinking his cocktail while his regained his composure.

Like this, here at the Little Pearl on Solas’s dime, you felt almost like it was all three of you together again, happy and free of the outside world in your own delicious little Eden. “What would you do if you weren’t an FBI agent?” you asked. In all this time together, as you’d debated and conversed about hundreds of topics, you’d never asked him about the path his heart wanted to take.

“I’d want to curate a collection of art. Not publicly, for a museum, but for a private collector, maybe two if it pays the bills better. The public curators I’ve met are always nervous wrecks, but the private ones have this sort of strength, and pride to them. I’ve wanted to walk like that through rooms, not like I own the place, but like, Yeah, I’ve made this place fucking gorgeous.”

His answer surprised you only in that he had said it so readily. He must have gathered this opinion over his many years of seeing it on the other side of things. “I think you’d make a wonderful curator,” you said.

“Thanks, I don’t think I could risk a career change right now though. Though, it is tempting to just resign after that massive failure of a sting.” You winced, and squeezed his hand.

“Let’s not talk about that tonight, baby,” you said. “I wanted to take you here to get your mind off of things.”

“I know, I know,” he lamented. “I just… I can still see the Capitol Building from here, and…”

“And it takes you to D.C., takes you to work again,” you nodded, finishing his sentence. He nodded in return. “Have you thought about taking a vacation?”

“I haven’t taken a vacation since…” he thought backward. “Oh man, I can’t remember the last time I went on vacation.”

“Well why don’t we? Let’s get away. For a month. I know you have the leave time. It’d help get you settled and clear-eyed about what you want.”

“Where would we go? Maine?”

You smiled, and shook your head. “Maybe a little further than that.”

“Canada?”

“Wrong hemisphere.”

“Australia?”

“I want to show you where I stayed back in July, the villa. The owner has a huge art collection I’m sure he’d let you play around with for a bit.”

“In Chile? For a month?”

“In Chile, for a month. He doesn’t need any warning if we come, and if he doesn’t want us there, the place is big enough that he can easily avoid us.” Marcus looked appalled by your casual description of what was essentially hostile bed-and-breakfasting, but at your sure smile, he gave that sigh again, shrugged off the weight of the world, and said yes.

##

In Chile, twenty hours later, Solas got an invoice from Washington, D.C.. He frowned at the message for a moment, sure he’d paid his bill last month, but when he opened it and read Private Menu for Two, his attention fell away from the miniature safe he’d been cracking on his desk.

He forwarded the message to his chef, requesting he be given the same dinner that night, and leaned back in his chair, thinking.

You took him up on his offer to eat at the Little Pearl. He’d made the offer thinking you wouldn’t ever follow through with it, but apparently you had, and with a guest. After the conversation you had with him in front of his portrait, two slippery fish in a pool of searching sharks, his anger had fizzled out as quickly as it had come. He spent many hours pondering your motives, and understood them, even if he did not approve of them. Soul-bonds were a tenuous thing, and with the one between the three of you blooming in fits and starts, any wrong move would have toppled the whole tower.

This bill was an annoyingly sweet apology from you. You knew he liked the finer things, and sharing them with others. You knew this bill would go to him, and if he was right, you were dining with Marcus. Billing him was, in some way, a form of including him on your date as if he’d been there with you the whole time.

As he ate the same meal, he kept his eyes closed, vividly daydreaming the conversations about the food, the wine, the atmosphere. The way Marcus’s face would have looked in candlelight, the way your laugh would have carried on the open air like birds in flight. The first course, an appetizer of a fresh demi baguette and whipped tobiko butter, bursting flavor and texture in every bite, would have opened up that giddy side of Marcus that Solas knew simmered just below the surface. The second course, a peach salad with candied almonds, ricotta, and shiso leaves grown on a bush just yards from where you sat, paired with a sweet white wine, like a dessert before you even thought to crave it. Diner 1, presumably Marcus, had been served a steak au poivre with roasted mushrooms and a cognac peppercorn cream sauce, and a side of early harvest greens tossed in truffle oil. Diner 2, you, had grilled pork and pineapple tacos with a hearty jalapeño lime drizzle and sweet corn salsa. You’d almost shied away from the spicier foods he’d served you at El Palacio, and judging by the X by that line item, it probably went mostly uneaten.

Through the fish course, the cheese course, and dessert and coffee, Solas dined with you both in retrospect, living the same histories your mouths had. When it came to the end of the message Alexander had sent him, he noticed something he hadn’t before.

They left you a note on the back of their menu.

The attached picture showed Alexander’s desk, and in the corner, Marcus’s handwriting saying Thank you! and your lipstick mark, a small see you soon beneath that.

##

The night before the trip was met with a bit of tension in your apartment. Marcus had all but moved in, claiming you lived closer to work (you didn’t) and that he got more work done when you were around (he didn’t). Every day after the dinner at Little Pearl, Marcus had ruminated on what he’d admitted. Resigning, the career change, the future. He wanted that future with you, and not just because fate had bid it so.

He wanted you there with him, taking his side in an argument and trading petty quips back and forth until his stomach hurt from laughter. He wanted to see the way you’d shake your head in amusement, not quite an eye-roll but something similar. He wondered how much of his craving for you came from his desire to catch the thief. You embodied all the things the thief wanted: beauty one couldn’t hold, like glittering diamond smoke. You made art in the most effortless of ways, as if just by existing, the world was made more perfect and idealistic because of it.

Perhaps this was just him, though. Perhaps his eyes had been blinded by the sparkle you’d put in them, and you were waiting for the right moment to blow away in the wind and leave him brokenhearted. Those melancholy thoughts kept him company on the couch as you protected and covered the remaining canvases you had in your studio.

He wondered if you had thought the same things of him, like he’d anchor you down and drown you where you once swam freely. He knew he was a bit possessive and impulsive when it came to his heart, but for the first time he was feeling something different, something real that he hadn’t the proof for before. He had the proof of it on his skin, swirling in darkening pinks, indigos, and golds.

But maybe it was just your own indecision as to why the marks hadn’t settled into their final shapes. There was something you weren’t telling him, and he hoped you would tell him what troubled you.

He had the feeling that the point of no return was several thousand steps behind him as he boarded the plane the next morning.

[scotianostra]

November 12th 1094 saw The Battle of Monthechin.

Also called The Battle of Mondynes after the area near in what is now Aberdeenshire, this was a bloody fight between the armies of Donald III Bane King Duncan the Second and his half brothers - Etmond mac Máel Coluim Edmund and Domnall mac Máel Coluim Donald

The background is Duncan, the son of King Malcolm lll by his first wife Ingibiorg, was sent to the English Court of William the Conqueror as a guarantee that Malcolm would not attack England. When Malcolm died his brother Donald Bain seized the throne, but with English support Duncan deposed his uncle to become Duncan II of Scotland or Donnchad mac Máel Coluim in ancient Gaelic.

It all came down to the succession to the throne, the old system of Tanistry had been replaced, Tanstry was a custom among various Celtic tribes, most notably in Scotland, where the king or chief of the clan was elected by family heads in full assembly, this system of succession left the headship open to the ambitious and was a frequent source of strife both in families and between the clans. Tanistry in Scotland wasn’t officially abolished until the reign of James I over 300 years later and replaced with Primogeniture, which is still used today, more or less, this system is where the paternally acknowledged, firstborn son to inherit his parent’s entire or main estate, this was in preference to illegitimate births, this is why Mary Queen of Scots had a right to the English throne, as Elizabeth was, in the eyes of the catholic church, illegitimate, but that’s a different story.

In Spring 1094, Duncan, Malcolm’s first born came north into Scotland with the support of an English and Norman army and deposed his uncle and his step-brother, placing himself on the throne as Duncan II. But Duncan was seen as acting on behalf of William II and he received very little support within Scotland. The withdrawal of William’s troops later in the year left Duncan very exposed.

Duncan was ambushed and killed in battle, having reigned for less than seven months. Primary sources are unclear about the exact manner of his death. The Annals of Inisfallen report that “Donnchadh [Duncan] son of Mael Coluim [Malcolm], king of Alba, was slain by Domnall [Donald], son of Donnchadh [Duncan]. That same Domnall, moreover, afterwards took the kingship of Alba.” The Annals of Ulster report that “Donnchad son of Mael Coluim, king of Scotland, was treacherously killed by his own brothers Domnall and Edmond”. As Duncan had no brothers by those names, the text probably points to his uncle Donald and half-brother Edmund, though later texts identify a noble by the name of Máel Petair of Mearns (Malpeder) as the actual murderer. The picture is a 167th century depiction of our short lived King of Alba one of a series painted by Jacob de Wet II, a Dutch artist working in Scotland from 1673 the series has eighteen full-lengths portraits which illustrate the genealogy of the royal house of Scotland from Fergus I (who ascended the throne in 330 BC) to James VII.

Confused, well the much more able Ian Colville explains it much better than an amateur like me on his blog here http://iainthepict.blogspot.com/…/11/death-of-duncan-ii.html