#MARBLENarts

[alquer]

Art by MARBLENarts on Twitter [LINK]

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

LookBook Number... I have no idea

It’s always interesting to stumble upon other artists and their take on the Countess’ wardrobe. I believe I’ve used this particular individual before (Marblenarts), but she does such lovely work, so why not visit her again?

Black and red... colors that show off the Countess’ coloration quite nicely, while also conveying power and respectability. Now, while it’s not entirely clear, I do think there is a shoulder drape off her left side that can double as a wrap if absolutely needed. Although, honestly? i would keep that material light and gauzy, leaving it purely decorative rather than functional.

I do like the slashes of red in the predominately black skirt, but I’m not quite certain if the red from the belt is a separate sash, or if it is simply sewn into the body of the dress. Either way? Gorgeous. 

Cascades of Swarovski crystals in metallic gold, lustrous black, and even a few deep, bloody reds would finish the accent points off nicely.

This is... diaphanous, which is not a word I’d use to describe the Countess. Her daughters are more diaphanous than her. She’s... sturdy. 

I’m trying to figure this dress out. A lot of light chiffon, with only the red bodice and skirt as being entirely opaque. It’s a interesting look, but I’m certain Alcina would enjoy the length of the sleeves. Something too loose and free is not a good thing, especially for a woman of her size. I do imagine a back drape of red chiffon coming off the bottom of the red bodice, adding a bit of interest.

Speaking of the bodice... At first look, I thought it was likely inexpensive sequins giving that color, but upon closer investigation, I think it’s a red lace on top of a dark silver, grey, or black. Something that adds a bit of contrast, and a slimming effect to her waistline. Not that she needs it.

I’ve no comment on the fascinator. I don’t really do hats.

Pantsuits. She’s not exactly a fan of such things, but I think I could talk Alcina into wearing these styles. The slight flare at the bottom of the pant leg is nice, since we are well aware of the size of her hips. It balances things out.

I’m thinking three different fabrics for this suit. A plain solid for the pants, a red, layered lace for the bodice, and a red on red brocade or damask. The buttons? Shiny red gem-like things to catch the light and give a little bit of sparkle.

I’m guessing the wrap is fur. Really poofy fur.

My one complaint are the lace gloves. Her nails will catch on them so incredibly easy. Her claws will shred them.

I like the classic, clean lines of this. I also think that a calf length skirt could be an alternate option to the pants. For ease of design, I would make the cape detachable, and yes, i see that it goes over the jacket sleeves before seemingly connecting to the back of the jacket. Also, the fabric would be white. Not cream or antique white, but actual white. 

I’m not exactly sure what to do for the black aspects of the jacket, whether to just piece the black and use some sort of embroidery to ‘feather’ it out to the white? That actually might be the best idea. Have a textured, matte black fabric that feathers out to the crisp white. Maybe have that third lapel a soft silver gradient? Definitely have hidden closures for the jacket.

[ladydimitrescusdarling]

By marblenarts

https://www.instagram.com/p/CcSyHyvtKtx/?igshid=NjY2NjE5MzQ=

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

Christmas in the Castle

(I have been pounding through this drabble since February. Yes, thank you work for sucking my brain dry and only just now giving back my inspiration in the past couple of days. Maybe now I will be able to get the Alcina measurement drabble done too.

Anyways, this was inspired by the art piece done by MARBLENarts, as shown here:

(twitter link)

So, without further ado, Christmas at the Castle.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas inside Castle Dimitrescu was… odd, to say the least. The village didn’t truly celebrate it, at least not in the traditional sense of celebrating the birth of Christ, but rather it was done in conjunction with celebrating Mother Miranda. So, while the villagers gathered in the small church, giving praises and singing hymns to their leader, a more traditional version was being held in the castle that overlooked it. And by traditional, that meant the Edwardian Era.

Natural decorations of Ivy, Yew, Laurel, Holly, and Mistletoe bedecked the bannisters, doors, and hallways, along with ribbons of red, gold, and silver trailing about everywhere. Of course, Daniela had to add her own flare when it came to decorating, with colorful paper chains, lengths of cranberry and popcorn garland, and the more modern addition of metallic tinsel strung about the grand chandelier and suits of armor throughout the castle. One marble bust just off the Main Hall even wore a Santa hat… until Bela removed it.

Then it simply began hopping from statue to armor to animal head each and every brand new day of the season, much to the chagrin of the eldest daughter.

While the majority of the staff was tasked with helping decorate or carry in the tree that the Countess had chosen, Magda had been busy with her own duties. Per usual, the Countess had requested special Christmas attire be made for herself and each of her daughters. Such a request came every year, but thankfully they were never the same. Some year they were simple accessories, other years they were coats or cloaks, blouses, skirts, or any other garment Alcina could picture them wearing. Another minor godsend was that she never asked that they be matching. Each item was to be unique to the wearer.

This year’s gift was gowns.

Yes, Alcina gave her input, specifying what details were to be included and emphasizing that no amount of alterations were to be done, no matter how much the girls begged, pleaded, or threatened. Daniela was to be in green, Bela’s dress would be a ruby red, and Cassandra would wear gold, while the matriarch would be clad in white. Not cream or antiqued white, but actual crisp, clean, snow white, accessorized by a long, brilliantly scarlet draping wrap, and a bit of sparkle from the hip that would accentuate the length of her body.

“Really? Two reds? I know you wish to have their dresses reflect their necklaces, but do you think that will be fair to Bela?” Magda asked, well aware that her question might not be received well. “Why not change it to a rose? It is still a red, but different enough from a scarlet that there would be no competing with one another.” Her wording and tone made it seem nothing more than an off-handed thought, rather than a suggestion or counter-argument. The Countess was quiet for a time, mulling over the idea, something the seamstress knew not to interrupt. Let it all come to a natural conclusion.

Hopefully it would be one that was positive.

Eventually the tall woman agreed that, yes, it would be gauche to have them both wear the same color, even if the number of people viewing said garments would be limited. Magda suspected that, even if she were living alone on a mountaintop, Alcina would still wear proper makeup, have her clothing neatly pressed, and maintain proper etiquette, all because she could. And that etiquette would continue until the end of time.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not going to be a goldfinch for my mother.” The voice those words belonged to was tired and irate, as if the speaker had been finally discovered and dragged out of her hiding spot. And, since the speaker was Cassandra, that had been exactly what had happened.

It had been a week since Magda began her project, and it had been going well for the most part. Measurements, discussion of styles, and mock-ups were followed by the the cutting and sewing of fabrics. At least, all but one. Scraps of rose, white, and green fabrics could be found around the sewing room, but the bolt of gold remained rolled up and untouched.

“I take it that your mother finally coaxed you out of your hiding place?” the seamstress asked the taller brunette, who answered with a small snort and roll of the eye.

“If you mean by ‘coaxed’ that she threatened to lock away every single one of my blades and deny me hunts unless I take my sisters along, then yes, she ‘coaxed’ me out of hiding.” With a sigh, the anti-social shadow that was Cassandra slunk into the room, gloved fingers trailing over various objects and fabrics as she went. Thankfully, no blood trail was left behind. At least there was that simple kindness, Magda thought.

“It’s a simple Christmas gown, Cassandra. Nothing more. You’ll wear it maybe once or twice and that is it. I’ll make sure you are absolutely beautiful in it.”

“I’m not going to look beautiful in it. I’ll look like a lemon, and Daniela will laugh at me,” the middle daughter countered, eyeing a pair of shears.

“Well, thankfully it’s gold, not yellow, so at most you’ll look like a gold nugget, not a lemon,” Magda drily commented. In an instant, the distance between the seamstress and Cassandra had closed, with Cassandra’s hand clenched tightly around the other woman’s throat.

“If you weren’t so beloved by my mother, I would see how well that gold fabric soaks up your spilt blood,” she growled before retreating back to her original position in the room. There was a silence that filled the air as Magda rubbed her throat; one of acknowledging mistakes being made and pondering how to fix this problem. Mostly this thinking was on Magda’s part, as Cassandra preferred not to concern herself on the subject of dresses.

“What if… we chose a different color?” Magda offered after a few quiet moments. “One where Daniela couldn’t make fun of you?”

“What, purple? Eggplant. Orange? That’s obvious. Black? Mother wouldn’t allow. Brown? Silver?” she just laughed.

“Blue, Cassandra.” The response was firm, but even toned, with reassurance growing as she spoke. “A nice, soft shade of blue. Not too dark and not too light. You would look elegant, and your sisters would be hard pressed to come up with a way to make fun of you.” Cassandra fidgeted back in forth with the suggestion, her mind worrying at it like a dog with a bone, trying to find any problem with it. There was really no way you could make fun of the color blue. Sure, the sky could be a choice, but that was a vast and wonderful thing. Birds and flowers were too, but bluebells and bluebirds didn’t have a sticking point that other jabs did.

“All right, fine. Blue. That sounds… fine. Anything else? The shape? The look? I don’t want bows or ribbons or girly things. That’s not me.” Ever the stubborn child.

“I know your preferences, Cassandra, and I promise your dress will not be girly. Daniela’s is a green velvet with slink and sex appeal, as she put it. Bela’s is a rose taffeta that will speak of status and royalty, and your mother’s is a white beaded silk that is absolutely full of sophistication and good taste. Yours, though? Yours will be… you. A silk linen, showing the weave and weft of the fabric if you look close enough. Yes, I would like to add some minor frills with lace trims, but no more than what your own necklace and makeup do for you. You will look elegant, but not outrageous.”

“Fine, whatever. Just don’t make me look like an idiot,” she replied, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh.

~~~~~~~~~~

They worked together over the next few days; designing, measuring, and fitting. It would have gone faster had they kept to normal hours, but Cassandra insisted on having her work done late at night, when most of the household was either asleep or preoccupied with other activities. Did take a toll on Magda? Yes. Which was why, upon learning the intentions of the middle Dimitrescu daughter, she worked quickly to finish the other gowns, allowing her a few more hours of sleep as each one was finished.

Daniela’s came together the quickest, as it was the most simplistic; all thanks to the redhead’s desire to make it sexy and off the shoulder. A bit unorthodox, but the demands were met, and Magda promised that the youngest Dimitrescu daughter would be very sexy, especially if she added black, opera-length gloves to the dark hunter green dress. Yes, the Countess had said no alterations were to be done, but these were simply tweaks, especially compared to Cassandra’s changes.

Bela’s present? Magda’s relationship with her allowed some respite, perhaps even some leisure while creating the garment, as the eldest daughter assisted in small, time-saving ways. Much to Magda’s chagrin, she cut a few of the pattern pieces out while the seamstress was absent retrieving supply deliveries. She even assisted in pinning and preparing them for sewing, but the line was drawn for any further assistance. After all, it wouldn’t be much of a present if the person it was intended for did most of the work. Nonetheless, the help was appreciated.

Alcina’s gown naturally took the longest, if only due to the amount of fabric and how much was needed to be layered one on top of the other. Admittedly, a corner was cut when it came to the bit of sparkle from the hip to the hem. As much as Magda wanted to, the idea of hand-embroidering metallic thread with crystals and beadwork was not going to happen, not when it was such a large surface to cover. Thankfully, her fabric sources had found a roll of white satin beautifully decorated with crystalline roses and snowflakes, the design of which would work perfectly with the silhouette.

~~~~~~~

It was the final days leading up to Christmas, and Magda was finishing hand-sewing the lacework along Cassandra’s neckline, when that very person darkened her doorway once more.

“What if she’s not happy with me not being in yellow?” the tall figure asked, lingering on the threshold, as if unsure she should even have spoken or made an appearance.

“Then I will be the one to suffer the consequences. After all, I am the seamstress. Not you,” Magda answered simply.

“But I was the one who said to make the dress a different color. Why should you be punished?”

“Because I was the one who listened to you rather than your mother. There is a hierarchy in this castle and, unfortunately, you and your sisters are not the Countess. She has final say, which I ignored. But really, I doubt there will be a problem.” At least, she hoped there wouldn’t be a problem.

“Blue isn’t yellow! That is a problem!” Cassandra snarled in a sudden outburst. Magda responded with a sigh and a gentle look towards the brunette.

“No, it isn’t. But they are complimentary colors. Just like red and green. They are opposites, and they work well together. Frankly, I agree that neither yellow or gold would suit you. It would have given you an additional harshness which would have done nothing for you. But had I said anything to that extreme towards your mother, I’d likely be currently in a barrel. So, instead? Your… apprehension gave me a way out, and I went with blue. It is a color that conveys wisdom, peace, and patience… among other things. Your mother expects you to behave one way; the independent daughter, the mighty hunter, the stalwart warrior. So, why not surprise her with a different Cassandra?”

“All sweetness and light?”

“I never said that. But, instead of being the sharp stiletto that stabs everything, how about pretending to be the soft, velvet lined box that holds it?” Magda asked with a simple shrug. “Same thing on the inside, but a different exterior.”

Cassandra stared at the mortal for a long, drawn-out moment, thinking many things. Some were logical, others were violent, and some that would only make sense to the middle child of Countess Alcina Dimitrescu. But nothing really prepared Magda for the words that came out of her mouth next.

“You’re doing my hair and make-up to match my dress and your idea. If you’re going to change something, why not go all the way, little tailor?”

~~~~~~~

A few evenings later, the seamstress stood in a side doorway of the Main Hall, watching the decorating of the immense tree alongside a rotating number of maids who paused in their chores to take in the tableau. Daniela sat on the floor, her velvet gown pooling about her as she held a large bag of ornaments in her lap, while a garland of tinsel draped over her shoulders and around her arms.

She must not have been able to find the Santa hat, so the tinsel had to do.

Beside her, Bela acted in a nonchalant and innocent manner, giving no indication as to the fate of the poor little hat. She demurely taking each bauble that was handed to her and examining it as if it were some long lost treasure worth more than the glass it was crafted from. Bedecked in her rose colored dress, she looked practically angelic.

The blonde girl would then hand the chosen bauble to her mother, whose figure towered even more so than normal, due to the fact that she stood on what had to have been the most sturdy chair in the entire village, in order to reach the highest point on the gargantuan tree that was already festooned with lights and color. The scarlet wrap still trailed on the floor despite the added height of its owner, but it framed the Countess and her gown beautiful, to the point that the seamstress wondered just exactly how she would outdo herself next year.

The was a soft sound from the staircase, and Magda looked up to spy Cassandra descending, hiding something behind her back. The girl look almost human and innocent, what with the clean face devoid of blood, the softening make-up, and a hair style that painted her in a completely different light. Gentle innocence, perhaps?

Daniela was the first to notice, pointing at her older sister with a wry little smile, as if to say ‘you’re not matching, you’re in trouble’. Whether or not she was, Magda knew it was time to take her leave when she noticed two things. One was the manner in which the Countess’ eye slid from her precise decorating work to Cassandra’s unexpected appearance and then to the seamstress lingering in the doorway. It wasn’t anger, but rather assessing or appraising… with just the slightest hint of displeasure from having her orders ignored. The look from the woman’s golden eyes would have been enough to send anyone away, even if the second item of notice was the present Cassandra held behind her back.

Despite being gift wrapped, the gift was still decidedly head shaped.

Well, I could only do so much, Magda thought as she gave the Countess a slight bow and took her leave.

It was hours later, well after the quartet had finished decorating and exchanging their own presents, that Magda heard the telltale sound of heavy footsteps approaching. The staff would celebrate their own festivities with the family tomorrow, so it wasn’t as if she was being sought out to join in on the frivolities.

Magda had expected there to be comments made, which was why she was still dressed and idly puttering around her workspace.

She simply had no idea what the comments would be about.

A knock at the door, followed by it opening and the sound of shifting fabric marked the Countess’ entrance.

“Magdalena.” The slight, balanced edge to that single word was also expected, to which the seamstress quietly stood and politely nodded her head in greeting, hands clasped behind her back. “I thought I had been clear in my instructions regarding these gifts. No alterations. And yet, tonight, I saw one rather glaring change. My middle child in blue. I would have thought she had forced your hand, ruining what you had originally sewn, but now I see the golden fabric tucked away on your shelf, seemingly untouched. Changing tones and shades or altering cuts is one thing. But this?” Alcina’s anger was barely hidden by her elegant words.

“Cassandra requested I use a different color, Countess,” Magda explained, her gaze held downward, afraid to look her in the eye.

“And you obeyed her rather than myself? Do you have any idea what you have done?” A thin slice of worry turned to fear inside Magda as Alcina approached her with calculated, measured steps.

“I am sorry, Countess,” she replied softly, waiting to be struck, either by the hand or the claws.

In the end, it was neither.

“She looked like how she was when she first arrived.” The anger in Alcina’s voice was gone, and the words came out unexpectedly soft. Surprised, Magda looked up to find a mix of sadness, longing, and gratefulness in those strange eyes. “I thought I had lost that when she was reborn. I had expected to have the same young woman who was brought before me; quiet and gentle, crying and begging to be sent home, promising much and pleading even more. She needed a mother, and I thought I could provide that to her.” A shuddering exhale escaped her lips in a brief moment of vulnerability. “Instead, I was gifted Cassandra… someone who is more like myself than I would care to admit.”

Magda simply stood there; unsure about how to take in this information. She had been vaguely aware of how the trio had come about, through rumors and tidbits of information, but this was news of a different sort. Of course, she wouldn’t breathe a word of this outside these four walls, but even so… she had never heard Alcina be so changed. So motherly.

“I’ve seen that girl… that first girl… on occasion. It’s rare, but tonight? She was there. Both her and Cassandra.”

“So, you are pleased?” Magda asked hesitantly.

“It was a gift I never thought to enjoy again, and likely will never be able to replicate. Blue was the right decision, Magda. Thank you.” The last words were a whisper as that softness faded away. “But, in the future? Should you or my daughters wish to change my ideas or machinations? Don’t. Not behind my back. Come to me if they try such tactics again. Your work is excellent, as always, but do not test my ability to forgive disobedience. I doubt such a miracle will happen twice.”

“Of course, Countess. Thank you for the compliment.” A simple bow from the seamstress signaled the end of the conversation. Evening pleasantries were exchanged, and once the Countess had exited down the hall, only then did Magda relax and let go of the tension she held. Perhaps a nightcap was in order to calm whatever nerves she still had before settling down for the proverbial ‘long winter’s nap’.

At least now Magda had a year to recover.