#ermine spots

[photoeq]

Leutstettener/Sárvár stallion Hopehely

Source: https://thepixelnomad.com/leutstettener-sarvar/

[rabbithub]

(*torments harpy!Diavolo with being sick in new sketch book due to seasonal allergies*) Yes, apex predators also get sick. That shit is a certainty no matter who you are. Shut up and eat your damn soup.

[flawseer]

Jade Mountain Academy students

#2 - Icewing chapter

Winter, Prince

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Jade

Color - White and matte silver

Relatives - Princess Icicle (sister)

Clawmate(s) - Qibli (Sandwing)

Favorite subject - History

Least fav. subject - Literacy

Physical characteristics - corona-like crest of spines, shape and length irregular; well-defined musculature, average size

Other characteristics - owns pet scavenger (named "Bandit"), scavenger seems prone to escape (suggest pet care seminar); socially irritable (within reasonable parameters, may subside with acclimatization); unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar)

Icicle, Princess

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Gold

Color - White

Relatives - Prince Winter (brother)

Clawmate(s) - Sora (Mudwing)

Favorite subject - Exercise

Least fav. subject - Cultural Exchange

Physical characteristics - corona-like crest of spines, shape and length even; well-defined musculature, average size; very meticulously groomed

Other characteristics - socially domineering (no rule infractions, but suggest monitoring); washes talons and legs very often (possibly germophobic); unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar); spotted loitering near staff offices several times (suggest monitoring)

Changbai

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Silver

Color - Sky blue and white

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Boto (Rainwing), Thrush (Skywing)

Favorite subject - Art

Least fav. subject - Anatomy

Physical characteristics - split/branching horns; oblong body shape, long limbs, very tall and slender; currently greatest size of all students (measured from nose to tail tip)

Other characteristics - unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar); most legible handwriting

Alba

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Copper

Color - White and light gray

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Mindreader (Nightwing), Snail (Seawing)

Favorite subject - History

Least fav. subject - Science

Physical characteristics - horns twist up- and inward; slightly small size with average build

Other characteristics - appears fixated on Prince Winter and Princess Icicle (within socially acceptable parameters so far, but suggest monitoring); unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar)

Ermine

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Quartz

Color - Light purple

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Newt (Mudwing)

Favorite subject - Science

Least fav. subject - Exercise

Physical characteristics - dull and worn spines and scales; size average, weight near but within the upper limit of normal range

Other characteristics - socially anxious, state of spines implies nervous scraping habit (suggest counseling); reported friction with current clawmate (suggest monitoring, consider transfer to different sleeping cave); unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar)

[kwillow]

(1/3) I adore the new comic with Alex, Ridge and Theo! The insight into how Theo's "healing magic" can be used is fantastic and the art is beautiful (as usual) to boot. A question, also: In the background of the last panel, there's several paintings in the background--what looks like three of Jocosa, but also a regular ermine. I recall that beasts (aka animals as we know them) are present in Amaranthine and associations/taboos with them vary by region. In Northcrest, are ermines seen as

Funny that you say there's three portraits of Jocosa in this comic - she is there, but her painting rests alongside these other members of her storied family. Most people who noticed the paintings thought they were all Jocosa, though! I don't blame anyone for being confused. The Norths are infamous for all looking the same.

(Also, they are probably slightly easier to tell apart here, when their portraits aren't covered by 5 years of dust - Theo really needs to clean that place up.)

Anyway, thank you so so much for your compliments on the comic! I will put the rest of your message and answer your questions under the cut.

Ermine Motifs

The ermine isn't a pet, but simply an ermine. The Norths are unusually obsessed with their "source" animal, and use the image of ermines as representations of their power and prestige. Like you predicted, ermines feature prominently in their decor and fashion. Ermine-shaped badges, ermines on rugs, ermine newel posts (that's a fun word!), and ermine paintings. It's a little obnoxious. They hold a peculiar reverence for the creatures while also being extremely willing to wear their skinned pelts as cloaks. They do not think there is anything weird or grim about that.

Part of their fixation comes from the fact that unlike some noble families, ermines feature in their heraldry, so the presence of ermine artwork alludes to their noble status, much like how the royal family of England might display lions. Heraldic ermine spots appear on their coat of arms, and ermines are the shield's supporters. But they are also just self-obsessed and have a fondness for that which reminds them of themselves. Even Theo, despite being of a ratlike persuasion, plays into the North fixation on ermines by occasionally wearing ermine fur and jewelry shaped like heraldic ermine spots.

Closely associating yourself with the animal you resemble was more common in historical times, but the degree to which the Norths do it would still be odd. People with more modern mindsets, more removed from ancient mythical symbolism and more concerned with modern problems of technological advancement and not dying in a frozen wasteland, would consider the Norths to be embarrassing themselves with their ermine obsession. Why are they so heavily identifying with a simple beast? Who cares what kind of animal you look like? Shouldn’t you be more proud of being, you know, a person?

Theo's Catalyst Stone

Yes, the North's catalyst stone is passed down through the generations upon the death of its previous owner. (The teardrop-shaped stone the ancestress is wearing in her portrait is the very same one Theo has stuck in his hand.) Given that Theo slammed the stone into his flesh, he will be the last of his line to use this catalyst stone - and given that he hasn't exactly been a hit on the dating circuit, he will likely also be the last North as well.

Ancient Hyden Encounters

While there were more mages back in Hyden's prime days, it was still a small enough population that it wouldn't be unheard of for Hyden and some early Norths to have crossed paths in their day to day.

Chocodile and I agree that Hyden probably knew some of Theo's ancestors, but we haven't worked out the details of those encounters quite yet. Given the North's seemingly inherent predilection for bitterness and snobbery, they probably didn't get on all that well.

[ebbpettier]

OH MY GOD YES 🤩

Re: tokyo mew mew AU

so I changed the whole thing pretty much BUT.

Her animal is still a forest owlet, but her fruit is mangosteen. I changed things to fit mangosteen (quick drawing of mangosteen depicted on the left; ignore my attempt at a star fruit next to it. I was brainstorming)

Name: Mew Mango (not mangosteen cause that's too long to say :p) (slightly confusing) (I guess the whole thing is fine) (idk) (if anyone feels compelled you can create your own name I'd love to hear one) (I'm not being sarcastic)

Weapon: Da-mango-maru (instrument is a damaru)

Attack: ribbon mangostaan-u storm-o (or smthn)? (unsure on how well storm and the damaru match. but maybe the sound of the drum could be like rain?)

@ebbpettier

apologies that I took a month. I hope you have not perished

not sure where her mew mark would be? maybe on her back (like mint). I'm slightly tempted to have it on her knee/back of her knee lol

it's probably obvious, but none of this is set in stone

redrew this picture of mint:

[homeofhousechickens]

Sorry if this has been asked already, but what are your top 3 favorite plumage types/colors of chickens?

In no particular order but

1- Red Pyle. This is a dominant white based color. You make it by adding dominant white to a black breasted red

2- Ermine, also called "Paint" it is heterozygous dominant white on a solid black bird selected for pigment holes in the dominant white letting the black leak through. Not to be confused with Splash

3- I have a soft spot for Isabel (also called porcelain) colored chickens who also have the cream dilution. I like it when the lavender isn't to dark and the yellows are creamy/delicate and not straw/yellow colored. The last cockerel is a perfect example of what I like from this color

Honorable mentions

Just normal wild type red duckwing/black breasted red

Mottling (featuring my own hen Oreo)

As for feathering I like normal feathering but I love long tails and genetic hackle chickens

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Heraldry

Heraldry - is about showing people who you are.

In England, it started in the later 1100s, when knights began to wear helmets, and they couldn't be recognised. So they began to paint unique combinations of colours, shapes and animals, called their 'arms', on their shields and banners. Only one person was allowed to use these arms. When people saw a knight wearing them in a battle or tournament, they could tell who he was.

It is the science and the art that deal with the use, display, and regulation of hereditary symbols employed to distinguish individuals, armies, institutions, and corporations. Those symbols, which originated as identification devices on flags and shields, are called armorial bearings.

Strictly defined, heraldry denotes that which pertains to the office and duty of a herald; that part of his work dealing with armorial bearings is properly termed armory. But in general usage heraldry has come to mean the same as armory.

The Colours of Heraldry

The 5 traditional colours are, with their heraldic names:

Red = Gules

Blue = Azure

Green = Vert

Black = Sable

Purple = Purpure

Plus the two 'metals':

Gold or yellow = Or

Silver or white = Argent

There are also 'furs', the most common being:

Ermine: representing the white winter fur of stoats, with their black tail tips.

Vair: representing squirrel skins, in blue and white.

If something (say a dog or badger) is shown in its natural colours, it's called proper.

Conventional representations of tinctures used when it is not possible to print the actual colors:

Heraldic Ordinaries

Ordinaries - the simple shapes used on heraldic shields, against a colour, metal or fur background. If you are making your own design, choose one of these main ordinaries:

Fess = horizontal stripe across the shield

Pale = vertical stripe down the shield

Bend = diagonal stripe

Chevron = like a house gable, pointing upwards

Cross = a plain cross

Saltire = a 'St. Andrew's cross'

Chief = bar across top edge of shield

Bordure = border round edges of shield

Pile = downward-pointing triangle

You can also divide your shield into two colours, either vertically or horizontally, or into four different-coloured quarters.

You don't have to use an ordinary, but if you do remember to never put a colour on colour or a metal on a metal. Try to remember this heraldic rule: colours don't show up well against colours, or metals against metals. This also applies to charges.

Heraldic Charges

Charges - emblems added to the shield, on the background, the 'ordinary', or both.

There can be one big charge, or several smaller repeated ones. Here are some of the common charges you could use:

Crosses - of many different types

Stars

Rings

Balls

Crescents

Diamonds

Flowers

They can be any colour, but remember never put colour on colour, for example a green star on blue, or metal on metal, for example a white flower on yellow.

Many knights also used animals as charges.

Animal Charges

Any animal - either one big one or several smaller - can be used as a charge. They can be shown in many different ways, for instance:

Rearing up (rampant) - like the lion and the hare in the pictures above

Standing (statant) - like the dog

For birds, with wings outstretched (displayed) - like the eagle

Walking along (passant) - like the other lion

If the animal is looking towards you, it is also guardant or 'on guard'. So the lion in the picture is passant guardant.

The ancient royal arms of England are 3 golden lions, one above the other, walking along on a red shield: or, in heraldic code, gules three lions passant guardant or.

Just to make things more complicated, lions passant guardant are also called leopards - but they don't have spots.

Choosing Your Animal

Animals symbolised different qualities. So for instance:

Lions = bravery

Dogs = faithfulness, reliability

Stags = wisdom and long life

Eagles = power and nobility

Badgers = endurance or 'hanging on'

You could also design your own animal charge.

For instance a cat, horse or other favourite pet.

Or you could choose a fabulous beast...

Fabulous Beasts

Though often used as 'charges', these fabulous beasts never really existed.

But some people believed they did, maybe because they'd heard about them in stories made up by travellers to distant lands, like crusading knights or merchant adventurers. Pictures of them also appeared in 'bestiaries', a popular kind of illustrated medieval story-book.

Here are some you could use:

Dragon: the earliest and most common fabulous beast, also used as a badge by Romans, Anglo-Saxons and Welsh. A brave and cunning defender of treasure.

Griffin: a combination of lion and eagle. Symbolises watchfulness and courage - and also guards treasure.

Cockatrice: a cross between a cockerel and a dragon, supposedly hatched from a cock's egg by a snake or toad. Could kill by looking at you, and symbolised protection.

Manticore or 'man-tiger': a fearsome man-eating creature with a lion's body, man's face, tusks, horns and a deafening trumpet-like voice.

Cadency

Cadency - the use of various devices designed to show a man’s position in a family, with the aforementioned basic aim of reserving the entire arms to the head of the family and to differentiate the arms of the rest, who are the cadets, or younger members.

Heraldic works in the 16th century refer to cadency marks as:

a label for the eldest son during his father’s lifetime;

a crescent for the second son;

a mullet (five-pointed star) for the third;

a martlet (a mythical bird), the fourth;

an annulet (a small ring), the fifth;

a fleur-de-lis, the sixth;

a rose, the seventh; and so forth.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 1.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

a former ward of alicent hightower and aemond's childhood companion, shera stark, returns to king's landing after ten years. ten years after the incident at driftmark that left her and aemond permanently disfigured. after so many years apart, shera and aemond are almost strangers. almost.

a/n: i posted the first two chapters of this story before, but they're being reworked -- so just poof what you know about them out of your mind when reading it now and think of it as a clean slate.

wordcount: 3k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage

story playlist

The wind had finally died down that day, the trees somewhat still over the horizon. Their branches still wobbled with some errant breeze, whistling through the wood like a song. 

The window was pushed outward, the crisp air crossing paths with the smell of smoke, whirling and mingling like lost friends. A small fireplace was warming the room as the lady perched on her windowsill, dark copper curls hanging around her like tendrils. Shera took in a deep breath of air— it was crisp and refreshing, pushing away the errant effects of sleepiness. 

Her skin prickled in goosebumps beneath her nightgown as she turned to her bed. A large black mass was snoozing softly still, taking up the majority of the mattress. Slinking over, she snuggled herself close to the giant canine, blowing softly on his muzzle to wake him. Large amber eyes met brown and milky blue, pupils dilating and constricting in tandem, before the wolf let out a sleepy chuff. 

“Wake up, my love,” Shera whispered, fingers digging into his shaggy mane as she scratched just the right spot. “Moongeist, we must start the day.” she hummed. 

The direwolf rolled over onto his back, belly exposed to the chilled air. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, one leg kicking as his companion got the one itch just out of reach of his own claws. 

“Oh, you’re a ham,” Shera mumbled into his fur, peppering him with kisses. “You’re no wolf, you’re a honey glazed ham,” she tickled his belly, causing him to let out an almost laughing whine. “With a side of sweet potatoes and winter chard.” she rolled next to him, snuggling into him like he was a person. Sprawled out from the tip of his outstretched legs, up to his nose, he outmatched Shera’s height by about one and a half feet. Westeros would surely need to watch out if her wolf ever learned to walk on two feet! 

They lazed together for the better part of an hour before Shera called in the maids— but not before donning her veil and choker. The maids would only help dress her from the neck down, and were ushered out after for Shera to do her hair alone. She took in a deep breath as they fastened the corset around her form. 

“May need to lay off the blueberry hand pies , my lady,” one of the maids murmured. “‘Tis getting hard to lace you up.” 

Shera felt a swirling pit in her stomach at the comment— it wasn’t a secret that she was no svelte ermine. She had curves and a bit of extra mass in the softer areas of her body, coupled with scarred stretch marks around her sizable bosom and thighs. “… hm.” she snorted, not wanting to dignify the maid’s comment with a response. This was, unfortunately, the norm. The jabs, the pokes, the insults between sentences— even the serving girls have become brazen, snickering as Shera walked past. She didn’t exactly understand it— mayhaps it was because she could hardly speak to defend herself, mayhaps they think her daft and non-understanding of their less than tactful barbs. 

As normal as it was, it made it no less tiring. “Just… lace it up,” she quipped, a bit too harshly, as she held her thumb and forefinger to her throat at the scratch of pain. “… I have things to attend to…” 

“Yes, my lady.” the maids responded in tandem, squeezing poor Shera into a corset much too tight. 

After they left, Shera picked up a shoe and threw it at the door, startling Moongeist. “Damned ptarmigans… clucking hens… when do they cease?” she groaned, patting the wolf on the head as he, ever dutifully, retrieved her shoe. “I’m… we’re the wolves— they’re supposed to be afraid of me.” she continued, as it usually went. She would whisper and murmur to herself (to Moongeist) while she readied herself. Sitting in front of the open window, her fingers deftly weaved through her auburn locks, working absentmindedly into a braid. She pinned the braid upon her head, glanced at the mirror, then unpinned it. 

It became a back and forth task as she meticulously decided on a hairstyle— she wasn’t usually so vain, but apparently, Prince Jacaerys was arriving for a meeting. She’d spent some time with him the past few moons as they ‘courted’. He was polite, of course, and had grown into himself well since their childhood. But… Shera felt nothing for him, princely charm be damned. And she was increasingly sure he felt the same, more inclined to enjoy the company of Cregan rather than her. 

But that was the way of the world, wasn’t it? To be trapped in a loveless box for titles, for armies and alliances, for oaths— that was fate. And fate… was usually unchanged. Shera oft cursed the Gods, the Old and the New, for weaving her tapestry of life in such a bereft and depressing manner. If she were to look upon it, it’d be dreary and uncouth, not fit to hang upon a wall, destined to rot and mold in a cellar for eternity. 

But what did Shera know of love, anyhow. How could she— for who would love a banshee?

She settled on twin braids that settled upon her back, pinned up into two loops. Adjusting her veil in the mirror and assuring she wasn’t too visible, she made for the door, Moongeist pressed to her. 

The winding halls of Winterfell had become second nature, muscle memory— but her mind wandered, imploring herself to think… Did she remember such paths at the Red Keep? She hoped her memory, if nothing else, would serve her well one day. 

None of the denizens she passed by in the corridors spoke to her, only gave her stiff nods before avoiding her eye line. Was she such an abhorrent sight? Her heels clicked against the stone, fingertips skimming the walls as she stayed close to them, using the familiar winding gait to guide her to the Great Hall. Her stomach grumbled under her tight corset– she hadn’t even had time to break her fast before already being shoved to the dragon’s maw. She heard the whispers of the ‘dashing dragon prince’ arriving early, upon his dragon which was the color of a witch’s brew, green and sprightly. Shera couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she pushed the heavy oaken door to the hall. 

Cregan was there, beard trimmed so as to not be unsightly, and laden in dark aurochs fur. Their ancestral weapon, Ice, was strapped to his back like a second spine, rigid and unyielding. He was faced towards the fire in the hearth, while Jacaerys was to his side, the two already deep in conversation.

The sound of the door opening was as good of an indication of her arrival as she would get, and they both turned to her in tandem. Jacaerys, gallant and princely as ever, rushed to her side, but not before stopping a few paces before, as Moongeist was pressed to her thigh with a wary look in his eye.

“My lady,” Jacaerys exclaimed, flashing his dazzling smile, his brown mop of curls bouncing as he approached, albeit cautiously. “You look radiant as ever.” 

Shera’s brow rose from under her veil– her facial expressions were hardly seen, and she was able to give her unabashed reactions to things quite often. She was woe to master the art of masking, so she simply did not. He called her radiant– an alluring lie if she ever heard one, he couldn’t see her face, how could she possibly be radiant? She presumed his mother had been schooling him in the art of politics. That is what this is, isn’t it? It’s all just… politicking. 

“My prince,” Shera responded softly, giving Moongeist an ever subtle command to sit to the side, allowing Jace to take her arm. She didn’t much like being touched by other people, it made her skin crawl, but she too needed to… continue the charade. “Thank you– you are quite early, I hope I look… presentable.” 

“We were waiting for a bit, Shera,” Cregan commented offhandedly, cracking his knuckles slightly. He was a bit annoyed, she could tell. “But, ladies do take long to get ready, do they not, my prince?” 

“It wasn’t a long wait, no worries,” Jace responded coolly. “But yes, it takes a small army and frequent turning of an hourglass for my mother to finally be ready, I imagine it’s similar for most ladies.”

Ah, yes. As if it doesn’t take Cregan an hour to pick out his furs for the day, pompous ass. And did Jacaerys don himself in that heavy dragonscale plated armor? Doubtful. Shera suppressed the urge to give an indignant huff. “My… deepest apologies,” she murmured. “I do hope my dear brother wasn’t such a terrible conversationalist.”

Cregan snorted as Jace guided Shera to her seat, pushing it in for her. “My mother– she wishes to meet you, of course,” Jacaerys prattled, scooting into the chair next to her (and Cregan). “We are going to go to the Queen for approval for the official betrothal… and subsequent wedding.” 

Shera blinked slowly as she absorbed the information. She expected to have to meet Princess Rhaenyra at some point and for the Queen to become involved in the betrothal– but the wedding? Subsequent? The nail on her pointer finger dug into the nail bed of her thumb idly, picking, picking, picking as she mulled over her next words. “... will the wedding be soon, my prince?” she asked, sneaking a glance at Cregan, who had a glazed over look in his eye.

“... my mother wishes to secure the… union before her ascension, my lady.”

“The King is not yet dead– I don’t understand the rush.” Shera blurted out, her nail sinking deeper into her flesh. She felt like there was some sort of secret she was not a part of, some undisclosed plan that she wasn’t privy to Oh, yes, of course– she was just the pawn, wasn’t she? 

“That is well and true– my grandsire, the King, has been in poorly health for the past few years. It is… only a matter of time.” Jace stammered, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation. 

“Rhaenyra’s ascension will happen sooner than later, Shera. It is only a wish that you and Jacaerys are well bonded by then, mayhaps even producing an heir.” Cregan interjected. 

She wanted to vomit, she wanted to scream, she wanted to lash out at everyone– she was a vessel, a puppet for a greater vision of Westeros that nobody cared if she was specifically a part of– ‘twas only her luck she was the sister of the Warden of the North, who held an amassing army and ferocity for those he was bidden for. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Warmth spread onto her fingertip and Moongeist shuffled at her feet, a low whine coming from the back of his throat. She felt such a rage come over her for a split second, her vision blurring as she felt the overwhelming need to sink her teeth into someone and make them feel her despair. 

“Okay.” she finally said, her voice sounding far away and small, as if it wasn’t even hers.

Jacaerys and Cregan conversated further while Shera stared off into some small point in the distance until her eyes watered from not blinking, blood pooling and staining against her nails. 

“Thank you. I must break my fast now,” Shera suddenly spoke up, not caring if the two of them were in the middle of a conversation. “We will leave within a fortnight.” 

The journey from the hall back to her room was a blur, she remembers curtsying to Jacaerys and bidding him goodbye and some other innocuous pleasantries. Sitting back at her desk, she tore off her veil in frustration, bracelets and earrings alike jingling. She put her head in her hands, feeling the all too familiar ache of tears building. 

She didn’t want to go— why did she have to be married? Why was it her destiny to be a pawn? To be a wife? Especially to someone who was there. Her throat clenched as she tried to hold back the tears— to no avail. They burned and stung, her already tender demeanor withering. 

Prying her hands away, she looked over her desk. It was strewn with miscellaneous books to which she struggled to read, along with some half-done charcoal sketches of prospective sewing projects. Shera wasn’t known for outbursts, as her quiet and ghostly prefecture was one that stayed in the background of things. But, she felt a roiling in her stomach, wrought over like forged castle steel, molten and aching and hot— it burned in her like a plague, working its way through her and exiting her body in the form of a wail, coupled with her arms sweeping off the contents of her desk to the floor. 

The momentary feeling of anguish subsided as soon as it came and her throat ached from her cry. Her eyes felt heavy as she tried to get up and subsequently failed, sinking to the ground like a discarded rag. Moongeist let out a whine, propping his head under Shera’s arm, having her rest some of her weight upon him.

“I’m pathetic, my love,” she whispered, feeling all the part of a fallen porcelain doll, placated on her bottom upon the floor, legs out in front of her as if she were a child on a playroom floor. “Nothing like the Winter Kings of yore. I’m sorry.” Shera’s thumb rubbed on the wolf’s ear as she wallowed momentarily in self-pity and self-loathing. 

Gathering some strength, she pushed the papers below her desk to the side. The sweeping motion befell something new— no, not new. ‘Twas old, upon inspection. It was a stack of letters, covered in dust now, but neatly tied together with wool twine. Unveiling one, she skimmed it over to the best of her ability.

Dearest Shera, 

It isn’t the same without you here. My head hurts all of the time, I keep bumping into things and I can scarcely write. In fact, I am having Helaena pen this to you right now. She says hello. 

Mother is in shambles, frayed at the ends like your old blue dinner dress. Her and grandsire are constantly whispering and she cries more often. I think she misses you. 

As does Helaena. As do I. Mayhaps even Aegon.

Does your head hurt as well? What do you do to help with the pain? Are you able to walk without bumping into things? 

I hope to hear from you soon. 

Best, 

Aemond Targaryen

That had been the first letter sent to her from King’s Landing— Cregan, to his own dismay, sat down and read it to her after she had spinned herself into a crying fit, sending the maesters into a tizzy as she threatened to reopen the stitches upon her throat. 

In her poppy-addled young mind, she hadn’t recognized that it was not Aemond’s writing or words, but most definitely Helaena’s, as the letter Shera sent back were those of Cregan, and not hers. 

Prince Aemond, 

It is an honor to hear from you. I’m recovering quite well, at the behest of my brother. Winterfell is very different from the South, but I am finally finding my footing here in the cold. 

I have been a wolf at heart this entire time, like my forefathers. 

My ability to walk has been improving, as the maesters here are excellently equipped for such a feat. 

It is my hope that we can both find a sense of normalcy in our lives once more. 

I wish you well. 

Regards,

Shera Stark

She’d hardly remembered when Cregan read it aloud, and she didn’t catch the cold, rigid wording, bereft of any warmth and camaraderie that she would have included. Truth be told, at the time of it being written, Shera couldn’t even hold her own spoon to sip at bone broth, much less walk. 

It was unclear to her still, to this day, why Cregan felt the need to lie about her condition— but it was apparently a well placed one, as the next letter to come was in another tone all together. It was about three moons afterward, and the handwriting was different. It was a bit shaky, but proper and dignified. 

Lady Stark, 

I am most gracious for your reply. It is a balm to the Queen to hear you are doing well. 

Let us both hope we are well on the road to our full recoveries. 

Stay warm.

Signed,

Prince Aemond Targaryen

Shera’s fingers traced over the letter, she could still recognize it as Aemond’s handwriting— but the tone seemed clipped and cold, colder than even Cregan’s letter was. 

There were a few more envelopes in the stack, but if she remembered correctly, there was nothing of substance. Her chest ached occasionally when she thought about it all— did Aemond think of her still? Or was she just a silly footnote in his life? She abhorred to admit to herself, much less anyone else, that she still did. Aemond Targaryen still had a place in her mind, an undeterred host in the recesses of her brain that she couldn’t rid herself of— if she even wanted to. She wondered what he looked like now. Was he finally as tall as Aegon, mayhaps more? Did he finally get his hands upon the book he had been wanting to read? She hoped he spent his days flying upon Vhagar’s back— a gift that he had paid the price for. 

She did as well. But her price wasn’t for Vhagar. It was for Aemond.

Her throat burned and constricted with the threat of tears once more as she pulled herself from the floor, Moongeist’s body pressed to her hip to guide her. Padding to the fireplace, which was nursing a few hot coals and sparse flame, she fed the letters into the fire one by one. The flames grew as they burned, the ink upon the pages fettering into nothing but ash and sickly memory. 

Were they strangers now? 

Does he remember her? 

… why does she still wish to see him? 

A wolf travels south at the behest of one dragon– but her mind upon another.

How sordid.

[zooophagous]

A friend of mine has a very sick kitty that has stopped eating. I'm trying to help raise some funds for her care. Bell is an 11 year old female kitty that's recently stopped eating, and her thyroid is suspected to be the issue. For $50 get a flat colored full body like the ermine. For $100 get a painterly piece like Mr. Strauss on the right.

Flat backgrounds. PM me to claim a spot. Costs are estimated at around 500 as a rough guess, we need 250 of it to pay for it.

[admiral-mason]

The Ultimate, Unholy Checkmate: Chapter 1

Before we begin, this series' title is being changed from simply The Final Checkmate to The Ultimate, Unholy Checkmate because I clearly just stole Shotgun King's title and that sucks lmfao

Alright now, enjoy!

Reader is Gender Neutral

Warnings: Swearing, derogatory language, torture, sadism, angst

Dawn. The time of day when the sun arises from its secluded spot in the night, shining a radiant light upon all of Teyvat and its residents. A time when many still slumber under the coziness of warm blankets or in serene environments that belong to nature.

Yet during this time, someone advances toward their destination with high focus.

Clutching your shotgun in hand, you trudged your way to Mondstadt with no intentions of negotiation. Teyvat felt each step you took with great fervor, itself awaiting the entertainment you will inevitably bring.

Occasionally, you stopped to tidy up your kingly robes, a black outfit inspired by royalty granted to you comprised of silk from Liyue, jewels from Natlan, dyes from Sumeru, fur from Mondstadt, and metal from Inazuma for tiny little details. With Chiori tailoring the outfit, they clearly held regal looks at a glance yet you never wore them despite your acolytes' pleading for you to do so. You didn't want to be seen as a greedy royal or anything like that.

Clearly, though, times have changed. You no longer hold any regard for reputation or emotions, considering that your allogenes disregarded your dignity and your feelings for the sake of worshipping you akin to a cult.

'Fucking greedy leeches. They only wanted my blessings and blood, and they refused to provide me even a bouquet of flowers!' You internally thought, anger only bubbling by the second. Thankfully, Teyvat thought of the perfect way to calm you down.

"Chirp! Chirp chirp! Squeak!"

You looked down to see a creature in front of you: a small white ermine, out here in Mondstadt when it's not even supposed to be winter in Teyvat. It eagerly ran up to you, and you couldn't help but smile at the little creature.

(A/N: This is an Ermine)

(You will see why I introduced this little fella later)

Placing your shotgun to the side, you crouched down to pet the little unnatural fella. The ermine made no effort to escape you and instead leaned into your touches with its version of a smile. Teyvat must have created this creature since Teyvat accompanied and cared for you greatly after you escaped your former acolytes.

One such thing it did was to form several pets for you to take care of. Before you left for your solo crusade, you left them with enough food and water to last at least a week. Not that you may have needed to do that, since Teyvat's proactive motherly nature would have fed them anyway.

Not wishing to let the creature fend for itself, you put it in one of your robe pockets and let its head poke out. Picking up your shotgun, you two continued your trek to Mondstadt.

When you approached Mondstadt's gates, the time passed from dawn to morning when many would be awake.

"Welcome to- ...Your grace! We thought you disappeared!" Swan said before he kneeled and Lawrence followed suit.

"Yes, yes, I needed a little bit of time alone from the usual godly duties. I wish I could stay and chat, but would you two good men let me pass through the pearly gates to the nation of freedom?"

You topped your sugar-coated words with a warm smile, a white lie to your emotions. You wanted to blast the two to bits, but that would ruin the surprise you planned for Venti.

"Sure! Mondstadt will always welcome you, your grace."

'Welcome me so they can take me as a fucking blood bank again,' you bitterly thought as you strode on into the nation of freedom. Everyone was awake, and as such everyone noticed your presence and kneeled or bowed or did something to acknowledge your presence.

You ignored the civilians, for they were not allogenes and thus not targets for you to pursue. However, one of the vision wielders did show up: Outrider Amber.

"Oh my god- Your Grace you're back! We were so worried about you, and, uh..." She stopped before her expression turned guilty, and her peppy appearance appeared to falter. "On behalf of the Knights of Favonius and vision wielders of Mondstadt, I dearly apologize for our actions... none of us can atone for our sins, so we hope we can rebuild our trust..."

Amber aimed her head towards the ground, her demeanor and posture clearly in shame. You simply chuckled, your voice and expression still inconspicuous.

"Oh, silly little outrider! I hold no grudge against any of you. Seriously, not at all! In fact, I came here to give you all a gift." Amber did not expect your response, rather she looked surprised for a moment. Nevertheless, your response revitalized her giddy attitude.

"Really?! What kind of gift?!"

"THIS!"

In the span of one point five seconds, you aimed your shotgun at Amber and pulled the trigger. The gun fired a round with a loud BANG! and sent blood flying everywhere. Amber's body fell to the ground, clearly bleeding out with several bullet holes in her torso.

Gasps flew everywhere around you two, and you no longer bore that benevolent expression you held a few seconds ago. You picked Amber up and looked at her dead in her eyes, not caring about her blood staining your robes.

"Listen here, you asshole of an outrider. I do not forgive you, and I never will. I remembered how you were amongst the many who greedily used my blood to commit acts of violence I never wanted for you to commit, and denied me offerings of simple things in favor of fucking skulls of ancient beasts and that shit. I remember it all, and I will ensure you remember it too."

You screamed at the end of your sentence and dropped Amber to the ground. Then, you took out a small bottle of red liquid and poured it all over the outrider.

"Do you know what this liquid does, Amber? It's an elixir that will force your blood to constantly regenerate itself, yet never clot any open wounds. That way, you can truly feel what I felt during the past few months of the hell that was my life!"

To add insult to her injuries, your ermine buddy decided to crawl out of your pocket and lick Amber's blood which caused it to stain its mouth in the process. You finally looked up from Amber's position and at the locals. Staring at all of the shocked expressions, you pointed the gun at them, forcing them to shudder and brace themselves for any possible shots.

"Citizens of Mondstadt! Let it be known that your Divine Grace has returned, and they are back with a vengeance! I have no direct grudge against you lot, so you shall be spared from my fury! But make no mistake: should you even dare to try and stop me, you shall meet your insignificant end with lead in your guts!"

You then heard two swords drop back in the direction of Mondstadt's gates, and you saw Swan and Lawrence scared shitless with their faces in pale complexion.

"Ah, it's the two gate guardians of Mondstadt! Tell you what, you two: I have a mission for you! I will give you exactly ten minutes to tell the rest of the Knights of Favonius and the vision wielders to face against me in combat!"

The two didn't move. "Well?! GET ON WITH IT, YOU YOKELS!" And then the two ran off into the city, not even bothering to pick up their swords.

Meanwhile, you reloaded your shotgun, breaking it open and inserting another shell into the left barrel of the weapon. You picked up your ermine buddy with a gentle smirk and placed him back in your pocket. "Come on buddy, let's go for a stroll."

Noelle began her day hearing two deafening, unnatural bangs, and when she exited her house Swan and Lawrence ran into her.

"Oh thank god you're up Noelle! Could you help us get any of the Knights of Favonius or vision wielders here?! Please it's urgent!!"

"O-Okay!" That was all Noelle could say before running with the two guards who normally guarded Mondstadt's gates to gather anyone specified they could find.

They gathered Jean, Kaeya, Lisa, Eula, Rosaria, and I think you get the drill, alongside other personnel who met in the headquarters. They met up in the Grand Master's office to clear up the situation.

"Okay, what's the situation you two?" Jean asked, clearly a little confused.

"Their Grace is back and I think they want our heads!" Swan yelled, clearly shaken up by Their Grace's declaration earlier. Everyone's expressions simply radiated confusion. Kaeya responded first, chuckling and looking at Swan and Lawrence with a glint in his eye. "Now now, you two. I doubt Their Grace would want our heads without a good reason. They were so benevolent while they were with us, no?"

"And may I add that they didn't decide to punish us for anything, darlings," Lisa added. "They clearly must not be-"

"THEY LEFT AMBER BLEEDING ON THE GROUND!"

Lawrence's outburst quieted the whole room, with everyone's expressions turning both shocked and fearful. "How?" Jean simply asked, and both knights started describing the nature of the unseen weapon in Their Grace's hands.

Amid the discussion, no one noticed that Noelle left the room.

Strolling around the streets of Mondstadt, you ignored the looks on the locals' faces as they flocked to each other, gossiping about what you did to Amber. Around five minutes had passed by now, and if no vision wielders or Knights of Favonius showed up in five more you would-

"[Name]!" A familiar voice shook you out of your thoughts.

Turning around, you saw Noelle with a worrisome expression. You simply stared back with a look of surprise and uneasiness, not noticing that your buddy poked his head out of your pocket to stare at her too.

You forgot that Noelle sought to become a Knight of Favonius, despite always failing their selection tests. During the months that you bled and bled Noelle always decided to serve at your beck and call, granting you what others would not.

In the times that you felt the pain and hurt from the cutting you performed on yourself, Noelle would do her best to comfort you as healers performed their duties.

She even began calling you by your name when you asked her to, when others would not even after several times.

She gave you what others would not.

She comforted you when you were in distress.

She treated you like a friend.

And though you may not have known this,

She was among the first to look for you not because of her mistakes, but because she was concerned for a friend.

"Noelle..." you quietly muttered to yourself as the memories rapidly flooded back into your mind.

As you used the ritual dagger to cut open your arm for the fifth time today, you watched as Heizou and Ningguang greedily consumed the ichor that fell into the deep channels of your temple.

"Your Grace, I give you many thanks for the divine blessings you oh so bestow upon us by the daily," Ningguang said. "As do I," Kaeya added, to which Ningguang glared at him for what she only considered a chaff response. You simply forced a convincing smile at their responses, a tactic you learned quickly after three weeks of bleeding.

"[Name]! I have your pancakes-" Noelle said before noticing the two other acolytes drinking your ichor from the channels, which was interrupted by Noelle.

"Oh, uh- sorry I'll come back once you two are done," the maid said as she turned around. "No, please," you asked, seeking her presence. "Don't go. Not yet at least."

Noelle gently waltzed her way over to you, giving you a plate of her Lighter-Than-Air Pancakes for you to dine on with a fork to go with it. Ningguang noticed this and scowled at her.

"Tell me, resident of Mondstadt. Why must you give Their Grace pancakes instead of anything of value to them? Do you believe you can win them over with simple sweet treats?"

"I-I very much believe it so, Ningguang," Noelle responded, gesturing to you hungrily devouring the pancakes with a stupid smile. "See- look at that face of theirs-"

"Have you ever considered that the expression may just be a farce to keep you happy?" Heizou asked, the bitterness in his voice evident. This shocked both you and Noelle, but clearly, he didn't notice as he turned to you.

"Your Grace, I am heading out to face Abyssal forces soon, and I intend to bring back something better than this individual's treats that anyone can make. Keep in touch, okay?" He smiled before leaving alongside Ningguang, who simply scoffed at the maid.

"Don't listen to them, Noelle." You simply said to her as you continued eating her pancakes.

"I know, but they act as if my actions are so sinful and disrespecting your very figure! It's so stuffy!" Noelle complained as she sighed before smiling at you. "But I can tell you love my pancakes very much, so I will keep bringing them to you!"

Your stupid smile was now a downright giddy grin. "Thank you, Noelle."

Your intimidating demeanor faltered as you reminisced on the topic, and you lowered your shotgun. All you could do in your position currently was stare at Noelle with a weathered expression.

"Noelle, I wish we could have met under better circumstances. But right now, I can only say one thing to you:"

"Run. Please, if not for yourself, then for me, because I am going to cause a bloodbath in this nation and I do not want you caught in my crossfire. Out of everyone that I bled for in this nation, I treasure you the most. And I do not want to lose you again, not ever in my lifetime."

Your voice grew more desperate as you spoke, revealing the vulnerable side you gradually locked up all those months ago except to Teyvat and the wilderness. Currently, out of all the people in Mondstadt, this was the one who you wanted to protect the most.

"So please, Noelle. Run away from this place, and don't turn back. I can only warn you this one time."

Noelle stared back with an uneasy yet firm expression. "...A-Alright, [Name], if that's what you want, then okay." And with those words, she turned her body and ran. You don't know where she will run to, but hopefully, it will be somewhere safe.

Then, you heard footsteps behind you and you turned your profile to find Jean alongside various vision wielders and the Knights of Favonius in your sight. You relaxed your current posture as you smiled benevolently.

"Ah, it seems that Swan and Lawrence weren't so useless after all."

You took a moment to look at the vision wielders in the crowd. At the front of the crowd was Jean, natural for her role as Acting Grand Master. Eula and Lisa were to her left while Kaeya was to her right. Rosaria and Mona stood further back in the crowd, with the Knights of Favonius everywhere else. Everyone's expressions were apprehensive.

"Your Grace... as much as I would like to say that I am overjoyed at your return, what did you do to Amber??" Jean asked with apprehension, a sentiment shared by everyone else at the scene except for you.

"I just gave her what I wanted to give her for months on end, you know after you fuckers coerced me to fucking bleed my guts out for your folly."

Jean flinched at how you raised your voice at the second part, and she had nothing to say to that so you continued.

"So, my offer to you, Acting Grand Master Jean, is to fight me with the full force of the vision wielders and Knights of Favonius right here, right now! And I hope you all fight with your full potential because I certainly won't hold back for this!"

You leaned harshly forward at that ending statement and Jean flinched. Eula, feeling the tension, decided to intervene. "Your Grace, please, we can solve this manner peacefully-"

"Fuck your peace offerings! There will be no negotiations with me, not anymore. You will fight or die trying!"

Eula remained silent after that, her expression clearly showing conflicting thoughts. Lisa spoke up next, her expression now looking sad and sorry.

"Darling... what happened to you in the months that you were gone? You were so benevolent when you gave up your blood for us unworthy acolytes, and your smile was so radiant..."

Lisa's voice grew more sorrowful with every word, yet your expression remained unchanging.

"And now... here you stand in Mondstadt, supposedly leaving poor little Amber bleeding on the ground. Just... why?"

You simply stared and blinked for a moment.

Then, you began to laugh.

"Ha....haha. Hahahahahah...Ahahahahah, ahahahahahah! *cough cough* AHAHAHAHAHAH!!!"

"Oh, you are such a fucking fool, Lisa! I guess your knowledge and wisdom did NOTHING to recognize what you and the others have done in these past months!"

Lisa shut up, and everyone's expressions grew more fearful.

"Have you all not considered that my smiles and compliments were fake? That I simply pretended to be happy to appease you writhing worms hungry for senseless warfare?! You and the vision wielders from the other nations simply wanted me for my blessings! Since clearly, when I couldn't provide artifacts or upgrade materials anymore, I was left to the dust!"

"And only when I left my temple, which I will remind you, was only constructed because I could bleed liquid strength in a bottle, only then did you all attempt to look for me! Not for me, not for my company, but FOR MY BLOOD!"

Your irate outburst further shocked and saddened the crowd, but you still had some steam going. This time, your tone turned anguishing.

"AT LEAST OUT OF EVERYONE, NOELLE CARED FOR ME LIKE A FRIEND! SHE GAVE ME WHAT YOU DENIED, BOTHERED TO KNOW ME BEYOND MY BLESSINGS, AND ACTUALLY TREATED ME LIKE A FUCKING HUMAN BEING!"

"I TOLD HER TO RUN FROM ME, NOT BECAUSE SHE'S MY FAVORITE ACOLYTE, BUT BECAUSE SHE'S ONE OF THE ONLY PEOPLE I CAN ACTUALLY CALL A FRIEND IN THESE FORSAKEN LANDS!!!"

You yelled with so much hatred and grief that you even shed a few tears that dropped onto the floor with sparkles in them, but you coldly wiped your eyes ridding of any more.

And with that final action, you cocked your shotgun with vicious and sanguinary intent.

"SO PREPARE YOURSELVES, BECAUSE THIS CRUSADE IS FOR ALL THOSE MONTHS OF BLEEDING I WILL NEVER GET BACK FROM MY LIFE!"

Taglist: @the-moon-awaits-her-executioner, @bunniotomia, @bl1pbl0p, (comment if you want to be tagged!)

A/N: Did I cook?

[photoeq]

Dappled sooty bay warmblood-type horse

Source: http://photolesya.com/loshadi-eksterer 

[echolonely]

White Ermine Moth - Mothtober #22

This moth can be found from May to September in the temperate regions of Eurasia and up to Japan and Korea. It's not very big, about 5cm max, but they're so pretty with their fur and little dots. But don't be fooled by their soft appearance, they're actually poisonous so birds won't eat them.

About the drawing

Oh I loved drawing this one! simple shapes but the white variations were fun to draw and that spot of yellow gives a nice contrast.

[atopvisenyashill]

Fancasts From Atop Visenya’s Hill

-> Timothy Spall as Ser Illifer the Penniless

Ser Illifer bore gold and ermine gyronny, though everything about him suggested that painted gold and painted ermine were the only sorts he'd ever known. He was sixty if he was a day, his face pinched and narrow beneath the hood of a patched roughspun mantle. Mail-clad he went, but flecks of rust spotted the iron like freckles.

[maedhbhcrafts]

Watermelon Dress Initial Post

So, I had this left over bright pink fabric from a finished project, and some lovely green material I hadn't done anything with, and I decided to put them together to make a watermelon dress!

This is a medieval style dress, and I do plan to wear it to SCA events.

In terms of scope, I'm planning on adding a green border to the bottom, with a white and green trim on that seam line to look like rind. I also plan to add an oval collar of pink with a lighter green edge to look like a slice of watermelon with a bite taken out where the neck hole is, and add some pink slightly dagged cuffs to the ends to the sleeves. I also plan to do a bunch of embroidery, like black ermine spots as watermelon seeds on all the pink panels, lighter green lines going up the green skirt panels, and maybe outlines of watermelon vines and leaves on the bodice.

I'm super excited to see where this ends up!

[adobe-outdesign]

Thoughts on the ermine martial artists Mienfoo and Misenshao?

I always had a soft spot for this line, mostly because it was one of the first fighting-types to not be humanoid (which don't get me wrong, I love my humanoids, but a bit of variety is nice). Mienfoo is basically just a martial arts stoat, but the design is interesting enough to make it stand out.

Visually, Mienfoo's body is designed to look like a robe, complete with poofy sleeves that will get expanded upon as it evolves. I like its fierce expression, and the red against the cream pops nicely and is well balanced.

My only thing with it is that something about the body structure feels a little off. I think it's the way the "robe" divides the legs from the body, so you have this odd-looking cream shape in the middle, not helped by how spread out the stance is relative to the body. It's not the point where it looks bad initially, but it is one of those things where it starts to look off if you stare at it for too long.

Also, the gray dots on the head feel very random; there's no reason they couldn't be red, and even if you wanted them to be a different color, gray doesn't really go with the cream base. Even a purple to tie into Mienshao there wouldn't be a bad option. Otherwise, however, this is a pretty good design.

While Miefoo is good, I really like like Mienshao in particular. It goes the elegant route, adding ribbon-like whiskers and a matching tail. More importantly, it expands on the theme by adding whip-like fur on its arms that it uses to strike enemies.

(Side note: I actually didn't realize until writing this review that its paws are visible under its "sleeves"—I always thought the sleeves were over top of them.)

I like the switch to a purple, gold, and white palette, which is more subtle than Mienfoo's bright red and works well with its more streamlined look. The entire body uses similar thin shapes for areas like the torso, whiskers, tail, and sleeves. Finally, the markings are nicely placed, being used as points and stripes to break up the body. I don't know if you needed the gold fleck on the snout, but it doesn't really hurt anything either.

Overall, a solid line. The designs are unique and the sleeve whips add flavor while still feeling natural. Mienfoo is more cute while Mienshao is more elegant, but both 'mons work together nicely.

[realcatalina]

King and his mother?!

In Christ's College Chapel, Cambridge is 16th century stained glass window, a rare example which survived nearly intact. It is thought to be done in 1505. On left is Henry VII. And the woman on right is Margaret Beaufort. In the most unexpected outfit.

Read further for more.

In middle is St. Edward the Confessor,

on left King Henry VII wearing his armour and crown, already grey-haired.

i just love the silvery part of his armour and also these portculises.

Green behind him probably has to do with tudor colours-green and white.

But it is the female figure on right which caught my attention. It is said to be lady Margaret Beaufort, who was very involved with Christ's College in 1505. Hence it is very logical to asume it is her.

However if you play with image a little bit to see the woman's outfit a bit better...you will realise woman is dressed extremely sumptuarily.

The cloak is held in place by white rope ended by tasle-standard design for female cloak of the time. But this vivid blue colour could be one of blues made using snails as dye...very expensive, on par with purple. The pillow beneath her feet is in same colour, cloth before hr crimson-also very expensive.

So what is the golden part? Her gown+wide sleeves of that gown.

Her headwear seems to be plain black, but otherwise it is pure sumptuousness...not at all what we would expect lady Margaret to wear.

Thus i questioned whetever or not it might be Elizabeth of York instead, however i doubt it because of the shape of coronet. It doesnt match Henry's crown and we have depictions of CoA in crown matching her husbands. Plus these wide sleeves are more consistent with 1510s, they wouldnt become part of English fashion until at least mid 1500s, after Elizabeth died. (As far as i know.)

But then Margaret and the college were in 1505, so it makes sense.

Yet I always imagined that her simple outfit we know from portraits had something to do with her swearung celibacy in 1499.

Can somebody please check records of her wardrobe? Because this is way after and she is depicted truly lavishly. But you know-she got her son on throne after years of struggles and worries. Which one of us wouldn't then want to enjoy her golden years?

You know we had similiar thing with Margaret of Austria. She had so many portraits of herself in simple outfit, looking like true mourning widow and didnt want to remarry after two dead husbands. So people mistakenly think that is all she wore all the time, even though it was not so.

Unfortunately the image is also bit dirty and scratched or worn of in places. I imagine that originally it looked more like this:

I know that at the very top we have lines consisting with white chemise, then black line which could be black kirtle, then line of large pearls(maybe ment to sit on edge of black kirtle) then golden line is probably edge of golden gown...but right under it imo is edge of ermine surcoat.

Which obviously would not be showing over lower parts of golden gown.But normally there is no band running across in middle of the chest-imo that is damage.

Then obviously her blue cloak is held in place by pieces of white rope(typical of the time)-ending in tassel.

That is how i interpret it and this is the best version i could come up with:

One more thing. I do not know which one of these is correct:

With or without u-band.

U-band on forehead occurs in gable hoods of 15th century. After 1505, the vast major women would long since have abandoned it. Like a decade prior.

Yet she was over 60, so i cannot rule out that granny who nobody would have dared to criticized-because she was mother of the king- would have gone around in something way out of fashion.

But then...she has no visible paste and that is consistent with 15th century too. Yet the gown is strongly against it.

So this is bit of contradiction, based upon just this small detail.

But who knows, maybe it is simply dirty in the most unfortunate of the spots and conicidently looks more like u-band, while it might be bit of hair showing.

I hope you have enjoyed this and tell me what you think.