#damamortale

[venusofrapturearchived]

@damamortale 

Los Angeles, 1946. The City of the Stars was truly magnificent tonight as it twinkled and shined like a thousand diamonds strung at the throat of the Pacific Ocean. The sea air came in cool and salty on the breeze that moved fast against the golden pink sky, bringing the sounds of laughter, voices, and roaming automobiles with it in a delicious experience unique to the glimmering West Coast. There was something exhilarating and special to Jasmine Jolene about the rush of the summer winds of Hollywood. This place was heaven on earth to her, a dreamland where she was the beautiful nymph to romp among its palm-lined streets, she another hopeful starlet to dance along the city as if it was her playground. This city was made for girls like her: gorgeous, blonde, and full of life, looking for her next thrill. She waded and splashed delightfully in each golden moment of her new life in L.A. like it was to be her last, even as she was seeking out more opportunities to become America’s next big star. Enough of the Hayworths and Grables, JOLENE was going to be the big hit everyone was going to fall in love with. At least, that was what the blonde beauty hoped. 

Flying down Sunset Boulevard in a Series 62 Cadillac in sparkling blue reminiscent of the noon sky, top down to let the sweet, warm wind wave her gilded curls at the horizon, Jasmine couldn’t help but take everything in and think about things so far, her aspirations, the little joys she had experienced. It was delirious, this dreamy drive with the radio buzzing sensuous jazz tunes, so much so that it was as if she would wake up at any second in her cramped apartment back in New York City. Traveling here over a year ago had been her true stand of independence, seizing her life in both hands and running to glittering L.A., away from the man who had been quickly becoming more than a friend, away from his financial grasp. It was here she now lived solely for herself, her own money, her own apartment. Even if she took favors every now and again, at the end of the day she was supporting herself. She had even landed her own film role on her talent and hadn’t needed to sway any director or producer beforehand. 

It was really happening this time, the chance at becoming an honest-to-god star. It was such a happiness she could hardly feel it all and contain herself. Slender fingers stylishly manicured in popping red reached the dial and it crackled another bittersweet tune. A man was singing this time about how he had lost his baby and he’d have nothing now but his lovely memories of her. She turned the dial again. The road ahead stretched through the heart of great city like an enormous artery, constantly streaming with sleek vehicles with searching faces within. It felt like there was always something to see, to be looking for in Los Angeles. That was how Jasmine felt anyway. It overwhelmed her sometimes, but in a pleasant way like looking up into the heavens and realizing its vastness. She knew somewhere in this town there would be her ticket to fame and fortune, and she was going to find it all while she frolicked among the stars and saints and sinners. That was her exact aim for the night. 

A party in Beverly Hills was always a luxurious and rowdy affair that she had yet to turn down. But tonight’s party was not just any old party. No, tonight was the unofficial celebration of the completion of her first real film. Her excitement was practically bursting out of her, a big, grand party for her, the star of the picture! Well, she was one of the stars. She shared the screen and the esteem with her beautiful, raven-haired co-star, Carmen Colombera. The two women had managed to kindle a pleasant friendship during the course of filming, swapping stories and finding common ground that made Jasmine very fond of Carmen. There was something about her new friend that made Jasmine want to learn a little more, talk a little longer, about the Italian woman with the long, dark hair and pretty smile. It felt like it didn’t matter how many hours Jasmine spent working with Carmen, there was still so much she didn’t really know, despite how Jasmine herself had practically recounted her life story. Then again, she did that with anyone who hung around after the fifth glass of champagne. 

As the blonde hopeful finally pulled into the drive of her own rinky-dink house fronted with delicate pink rose bushes, she pondered to herself if the last few months of work would land her any new offers to step up into the big leagues. It had been intense work, even if it was just one of those light, musical romances that the people in Hollywood seemed to love so much. It burned like a passionate blaze the determination to come into her own as a silver screen performer. She could think back to days as a little girl, imagining herself one day in those tabloid magazines she loved so dearly and spent hours pawing through. She could almost cry, realizing how far she had come. She would need to write home about everything, confess her joy and hope for tomorrow. Stepping through the door with purse and gown fresh from the cleaners in tow, her mind was still in a whirlwind as she flew to get ready and head out again to the address she had scribbled on a corner of napkin. 

There were several houses in Los Angeles that threw a good party and had the reputation to host a wild one. Beverly Hills was mother to a good number of these places, all the large and sprawling mansions of Hollywood’s elite that were adorned with any amenity known to man. Palms wavered in the cool evening breeze. The behemoth homes were proud and glamorous and seemed to say, “If you’re looking for a good time, you’ve found it.” That was the vision Jasmine knew as her car crept along, almost like a shy bird, ogling every house she passed, pangs of envy at each new sight she saw. Swimming pools, lavish yards bountiful with foliage made only by artisans, detailed work on the face of each home like it was pulled straight from a copy of ‘The Ritziest, Richest Homes in America’. These were palaces, and it was with a wild hunger she wanted to mount herself like a queen inside one of these hidden-in-plain-sight hideaways. That was what her kind of success looked like, her house on the Tour of Hollywood.

It took her a while to find the right address, seeing how she drooled over everything she drove by. It didn’t help that she had taken so much time to get ready. Her dress needed re-ironing and she just couldn’t get her lipstick to blend to that perfect shade of red! But at long last she pulled into the rounded driveway of a skyward manor like a mid-century temple to gods long passed. A man in a stiff suit offered to park her car while another helped her up the front steps and to the door---- she commented in passing how she felt suddenly like Cinderella! This was her night, she reminded herself, and she was going to have a grand time. Inside, everything was gold: lights were twinkling from chandeliers overhead, champagne floated around the room in the hands of party-goers and on waiters’ trays, gilded fixtures and painting frames and vases and statuettes on fine glass tables. The whole house was stuffed with people, some she knew, a lot she didn’t. There was a bit of a momentary hush at the front entrance when she walked in, some stares, but with so many people it was all chatter all around. She wandered only a few seconds before her director had spotted her and was guiding her along towards a big room (a living room maybe?, she wondered) where she soon saw Carmen at the front of the room. That was where director and his little starlet were headed, catching the other woman’s eye and waving. People parted around like the Red Sea, breaking way for the two women to met with a grin and a wink before the director gathered a chair and stood up in it. As he started to command the party’s attention, Jasmine leaned to Carmen’s ear, “ Hey, darling. Long time no  see. ”

[iinxsearchofxisolde-archive]

💙 = Does your muse prefer a night out or a night in?

{A night in honestly. 

Tristan perfers one on one time when he’s dating somebody. So while he doesn’t mind going “out on the town” so to speak he’s much more comfortable just doing something quiet together instead.} 

[thepinkcarnegie-archive-blog]

Damamortale started following

@damamortale

“My dear, I think the heels are a tiny bit unnecessary considering how the rest of you looks.”

[aflockofbyrds]

Damamortale Started following

@damamortale

“That is some amazing style you got there.” 

[damnimitation]

❝ What are you talking about? ❞

✧ THE SWAN PRINCESS PROMPTS.

“I’m saying to watch yourself. You may be confidant in your abilities but there are a lot of people out there that will use your strengths against you and they’ll do it with a smile too.”, he said, as a synthetic hand rose up to press the end of a cigarette to silicone lips, inhaling the nicotine before releasing a puff of smog.

“Just something to think about the next time you shake someones hand.”

[dustybyrd]

damamortale replied to your post: RT: Men’s fashion S U C K S

[what kind of style are you going for?]

Honestly I was just looking for ideas in general and usually what I’m getting is like, suits and buttons ups.

[lastofthepast-archive-blog]

"Nice voice!"

Send “Nice voice” for your muse to catch mine singing!

        Laura kept her voice low as the lights began to raise, unconcerned with the look her hooded eyes might have given; maybe their cause was the three bottles of vodka she’d had so far, or maybe they were simply an act… 

    “ You can run free, I won’t hold it against ya       You do your thing, never wanted a future          Fuck if I knew how to put it romantic     Speaking my truth, there’s no need to panic…”

          A few appreciative whistles sounded as she continued, letting her tone pick up. 

             “No, let’s not put a label on it                       Let’s keep it fun                We don’t put a label on it               So we can run free, yeah–                I wanna be free like you.”                 Another pause before her head finally lifted, smirk on her lips as she targeted a few men she recalled attempting to woo her in the past.

                       “I’m a, I’m a-

             I’m a cool girl, I’m a, I’m a cool girl-             Ice cold, I roll my eyes at you, boy.             I’m a cool girl, I’m a, I’m a cool girl-             Ice cold, I roll my eyes at you, boy.  Rules you don’t like, but you still wanna keep ‘em      Said you were fine so for whatever reason        Sure we can chill, try and keep it platonic             Now you can’t tell if I’m really ironic.”

[somaternal-a]

Maria:

[ode-of-odr-archive]

{ @damamortale }

[razensky]

@damamortale

replied to your photo

“[Guys im on my phone im sorry I have to do no format. I am very lazy...”

YOU ARE TRIGGERED, WELL I AM, TOO. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID TO ME!?!?

TRIGGER ME TIMBERS, I AM HAVING VERY BAD FLASHBACKS FROM MY PAST ALL THE WHILE SOMEONE IS TALKING ABOUT SEX. WHAT A TERRIBLE COMBO, TERRIBLE 

“Carmen.”

“Honey.”

“Let me tell you a little secret.” 

“For once, we are talking about me, NOT you. So...”

[longestconofallarchive]

damamortale replied to your post: @paparazziking

[Please give him food receipts PLEASE Frank. XDD DDDD]

[sanctamater]

[txt]: it's 4⃣2⃣0⃣ today😳😱but I'm not smoking weed🌿🍁😴😏🚬I'm smoking💨😜the bible😇😋🙏🏽📕because heaven⬆️😍👐🏽😂is the highest you can get🙌🏽😤. Happy 420!

disgust.png

[platinumcheckers]

[diamond meme] "Rate me, Benny."

send me a 💎 and my muse will rate your muse’s physical appearance on a scale of 1-10                                               A C C E P T I N G

‘’ B A B Y --- You?    You are a solid ten, pure platinum-- I could name a handful of unlucky cats        who’d give their right arm to just bash with you! ‘’

[aflockofbyrds]

‘ this is a nice stick. ’

@damamortale

“I know right? It’s a great stick.”

[hvmanmachine-archive-blog]

Faux fur

faux fur: describe their wardrobe.

Main Verse could not be less basic. He likes to wear a wine red button down shirt, and above all his lab coat. He has the same outfit around 20 times in his closet.

Brotherhood of Steel Verse I redesigned his outfit here.

And Modern Verse it is mainly suits, expensive suits that are perfectly fitted to his form. He also wears a lot of cuban heels shoes.

[duraance]

@damamortale liked for a starter!

                Elizabeth hovered at the edge of the small crowd gathering in Poseidon Plaza, keen blue eyes fixated upon Carmen. It was her own night off from being ‘Cohen’s Songbird,’ but she still found herself drawn to the stage. For the moment, there was little else for her to do but bide her time in Rapture, and getting to know her fellow disciples could prove useful. Slipping her way through the crowd, she approached the other songstress. A smile tugged at her lips -- kind, but hesitant. “That song was beautiful,” she commented. “Is it one of your own? I haven’t the time or patience to write my own music.” Her smile widened a fraction. “Cohen’s more insistent that I focus on his vision.”