#ophelia pleat skirt

[bittersuitejacobs]

• an unhealthy obsession • Nate Jacobs •

two. the slate cleaned

Summary: In which Ophelia spends the first day of school realising that she is both far more noticeable, and completely unrecognisable to friends and peers alike.

Warnings: obsessive behaviours & stalking.

A/N: 2422 words. this continues to be self indulgent and possibly messy, also just as a warning, but Ophelia is not necessarily a good person, the warnings for this chapter are about her. please let me know what you think!! :)

{ masterpost }

THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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So it continues with the pleated skirts and knee high socks and arms full of books and an air of sweetness.

They share several classes this semester - have for years, actually - but if anyone were to ask Nate, he would claim he'd never seen her before that semester started. Ophelia sits at the front of class now, tight sweater and hair in half-up pigtails, but quiet. The aesthetic change had little effect on her academics; she was a good student when she didn't care how she looked, she's still a good student now that she does. Except now she keeps her books in her arms, and backpack that was only really useful as an accessory, rather than in the large thing that had always clung to her before, which had always favoured function over form. The only real change would be her willingness to participate in class, eager to steal the class's attention and get them to notice her, notice the change.

Now, she smiles shyly when others talked to her, and her laugh is one she pretends she hasn't been practicing over summer; pretty, musical, dainty.

Befriending Jules, and by extension Rue, wasn't at all part of the plan, but it was a pleasant side effect. It had been a long time since she'd had a proper friend offline. Now she had two.

Jules is in her first class of the year; art. Initially she doesn't quite recognise Ophelia - something about the hair and the makeup and the shirt at the party seemed so different, she'd said - but lights up once Ophelia jogs her memory. When she asks about the bandage on Jules' arm, the blonde rolls her eyes, tells her about how some drunk asshole threatened her while Ophelia was in the bathroom, so she'd grabbed a knife and threatened him right back before making a spectacle of herself and practically fleeing.

"Rue patched me up, though," she giggled with a faint flush; Ophelia knows what the early stages of a crush looks like, and there's something endearing seeing it on Jules' face now.

Ophelia knows about Rue in kind of a nebulous way, which is the same way Ophelia knows about most people in her year. Bookish and desperate to keep her name out of people's mouths when she'd finally gotten to public school in junior high, and for the past two years of high school, she kept mostly to herself, and satisfied her need for a social life online. Even as she grew restless with that, started attending parties, started taking note of the people around her, she put the effort in to making sure they barely noticed her. These people she'd been in close proximity to were still arguably strangers to her.

But that was changing, and she was glad for it.

At lunch, Jules invites Ophelia along to join her and Rue. A proper meeting with someone she'd run into around school for several years, and sat silently beside at a handful of parties; all of which Rue was too high at to ever event notice her presence at all, which worked just fine for Ophelia at the time.

As if proving this point, Rue asks who she is when Jules waves her over, which only confuses the blonde.

"Lia, I told you I invited her to sit with us."

Rue squints up at Ophelia, who happens to know exactly how Rue looks across her various stages of being high, and knows she's seeing it again now.

"Are you new too?" Is the first thing she asks Ophelia, who's sliding onto the bench on Jules' other side. Ophelia shakes her head, Rue hums for a moment, "I kind of recognise you..."

"We used to share study periods on Thursdays," Ophelia prompts, not that she's sure Rue remembers. It's not as if they actually studied together; Ophelia studied, Rue... was there.

"Didn't you used to be a dirtbag?" Rue tips her head to the side, scrutinising Ophelia now. Ophelia, despite knowing that someone may notice, may make the connection and have questions, was still caught off guard.

"Dress like one? Sure," Ophelia shifted a little awkwardly, avoiding looking at Jules and her confused, silently questioning glance.

"Cool," Rue says nonchalantly after a beat, only adding to confirm her name; "Lia?" And Ophelia gave her a sunny smile, nodding.

The only things Ophelia can fit in her backpack are her lunch and her phone. Today, lunch meant two apples she'd bought that morning from the grocery on her way to school. It used to include a packet of chips, of a sleeve of Oreos, always something she could buy on her way, but forfeited them for the sake of her optics of her new look.

"Is that all you're having?" Jules seems concerned.

"I'll eat more when I get home," Ophelia assured. Food was an... uncomfortable situation for her; she always preferred eating at home nowadays. Jules doesn't exactly seem placated, but she leaves well enough alone.

The pep rally at lunch is enough to steal her focus, all of their focuses, actually. Its... a lot. Rue and Jules are caught up in their adjustment at how over the top it is, but Ophelia guides her gaze with intent. The coach and his enthusiasm. Maddie and the cheerleaders. The football team riling their peers up. Nate Jacobs, their captain.

For a moment, as his eyes roam the cafeteria, watching the sea of chaos as it ebbs and flows with the excited shouts of his teammates, his gaze catches on her. There's not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he's looking past her, to Jules and Rue, frowning. Ophelia pointedly turns her face, turns her eyes to the cheerleaders, to watch what she felt like she was supposed to, rather than to be caught staring at someone she wasn't.

She'd already been attending football games for most of the last semester, part of her pattern of observation, but she'd always kept close to the back of the stands, out of sight, out of mind. Starting this Friday, she'd make herself far more seen at events.

After lunch, and saying goodbye to Rue and Jules, Ophelia walks into her algebra class and takes the front row seat closest to the window. Others filter in behind her, and Ophelia watches them all with the most mild of interest, appearing to zone out more than anything else. Nate is one of the last ones in, with another footballer behind him, and Ophelia let's her gaze drift away so she doesn't look like she's staring. His gaze slides her her with a casual kind of disinterest, and Ophelia realises very suddenly that he has absolutely no recollection of who she is.

Good. A real fresh start.

Still that day afternoon she still takes the long way home out of habit, music in her ears as she follows the suburban streets. Nate's truck is outside his house when she stops past on her habitual detour; she wonders if he'd already dropped Maddie home, or if they were both here. Of course she could check; the backyard bordering on the Jacobs' residence was owned by a young, busy couple who both worked late, a side gate that was easy to scale, and a front door camera that was easy to avoid. But it didn't feel like something worth bothering with today, so she simply lingered a few houses away as she lit herself a cigarette, and continued the final half hour home.

Considering her change in style, she wondered if she could still keep up the routine she'd developed. Walking past his house wasn't the issue; even if he did see her, it's not like he knows where she lives, or that she's going out of her way for him. It was more that she'd taken to sitting under the bleachers after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, smoking and sketching and pretending like she wasn't watching football practice. With the new persona she'd created for herself, it would seem out of character if she was seen skulking around behind the bleachers.

Beneath the bleachers was another place Ophelia used to see Rue, though she never stayed as long as Ophelia did. It's not as though they hung out; Ophelia kept to the side, trying to remain as unnoticed as possible, and she has a feeling she often succeeded -

"Ophelia? Lia?" While pondering her plans for that Tuesday afternoon, a voice brings her out of her thoughts during her study period, and Ophelia looks up to see Lexi Howard giving her a confused smile. Immediately, Ophelia beams; she's always been rather fond of Lexi, at least since she'd started high school. A year below Ophelia, but with an air of someone much wiser than anyone have her credit for, it wasn't long before they were friends. Lexi wasn't some vague, nebulous figure in Ophelia's life the way the rest of the school was, she was probably the only person Ophelia genuinely considered to be a good friend. Lexi laughed awkwardly, setting her bag down, "you... look different."

"New year, new me," Ophelia shrugged.

"Really new you," Lexi looked her over, still obviously trying to come to terms with Ophelia's new aesthetic, "I almost didn't recognise you; you look really good," she's quick to assure her. Ophelia ducks her gaze, laughing the compliment off as she asked her about her summer. Lexi seemed to relax at the question, thawing out as she chattered away about the break that had just passed. It hadn't been particularly eventful, apart from learning Rue had overdosed and spent the summer in rehab. Ophelia knew this; Lexi had called her the night she'd found out, and Ophelia had stayed on the call for hours in her hotel in Sweden, heart breaking for being too far away to give her friend proper support, or even a hug.

As much as Lexi had spent the summer worried about Rue, she still enjoyed the time away from school. Most of her time was spent either in her room, or with Cassie and her friends; they liked Lexi well enough, and Ophelia was at least glad she had people around her who were good to her.

They're catching each other up on the shows they'd been watching by the time the bell goes. When Lexi stands, she invites Ophelia over to her house.

"I need to know everything that happened in Sweden," she laughed, "I'm still not entirely convinced you didn't somehow get a concussion," she admits, "you still sound like you, but Lia, seriously, you look like a different person," at least she sounds fond, even if the confused concern is back in full force.

"I haven't got brain damage," Ophelia rolled her eyes, "I just wanted a change," she assured honestly. Lexi holds up her hands, placating, warmth still in her gaze as she lets it drop, insisting that she still wanted to hear about Ophelia's summer in Sweden.

"I'm staying back to do some drawing, work on my proportions and poses, but I'll come over after," it was a usual enough occurrence that Lexi nods, not asking any follow-up questions.

Which is how Ophelia finds herself walking back to Lexi's house with Cassie Howard after football practice. It wasn't on purpose; the cheerleaders also had practice on Tuesdays. From what she'd observed, the cheer team trained in the school's gym on Tuesdays and had the field on Wednesdays when it was free. Watching them on Wednesdays wasn't exactly a regular part of Ophelia's routine the way watching the footballers practice was, but she's no stranger to them. Maddie may not be the main focus of her observational habits, but that didn't mean there was no merit in trying to understand what Nate saw in her that meant he kept going back to her.

And the cheerleaders were talented athletes in their own right; more than a few pages in her art journals were dedicated to trying to capture their graceful, dynamic movements. The cheerleaders actually made far more interesting subjects in that respect.

More than once over the past year, Ophelia had considered trying out for the team. She could probably make it; months spent atrophying in a hospital bed at fourteen had lead to extensive physical therapy, and after years of feeling weak and sickly as a child meant it felt good to move her body like that. Exercise had become a big part of her routine in the last few years, not that anyone would suspect it just by looking at her. But she'd always eventually dismissed the idea. She was sure Nate liked that Maddie was a cheerleader, but she didn't think he liked her because she was one, and Ophelia didn't want to draw any unnecessary comparisons if she didn't have to. If he was going to want her, she didn't want it to be because she reminded him of Maddie.

"I feel like I know you from somewhere," Cassie's voice is surprisingly close behind Ophelia when they're a few blocks from the school, and Ophelia gives a start. It's not the first time they'd technically walked back to Cassie's house like this considering their routines, but it's the first time Cassie's spoken to her. Yes, Cassie does know her, but only as one of her little sister's weird friends.

"Yeah," Ophelia gives an awkward laugh, "we're in the same homeroom, Cassie."

"Oh," Cassie frowns, trotting a little quicker to fall into step beside Ophelia. She's still in her cheer uniform, obviously not having bothered to change after practice. It's a good look on her, "right," as she looks at Ophelia for a long moment, it starts to dawn on her, "wait, aren't you Lexi's friend? You're not in my grade, are you?" At least she's smiling, even if it's disbelieving.

"I've been in your grade since we started high school," but Ophelia let's herself smile as Cassie laughs.

"Shut up, no you're not!" She grins widely, "Lia?"

"I've been to your house many times, Cassie," Ophelia reminds her, and Cassie shakes her head.

"Not looking like this you haven't!" She insisted, "you used to be all emo, didn't you?"

"I'm trying something new."

"Clearly," Cassie looked her over, as if evaluating her, "you're like, really pretty, this is so weird," she finally decided on, meeting Ophelia's waiting gaze with a warm smile.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Ophelia laughed, and Cassie gestured broadly to her.

"Look at you!"

"I'm still me," Ophelia insisted with a sheepish smile, heart growing warm with the praise, finding herself genuinely enjoying the company on the walk, "I'm just more noticeable now."

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 50, 12 décembre 1896, Paris. No. 1. — Toilette de visite. Bibliothèque nationale de France

Explication des gravures:

No. 1. — Toilette de visite pour jeune femme. Collet Manon en velours améthyste formant deux plis de chaque côté des épaules. Empiècement en pointe entièrement brodé de jais. Col évasé en velours garni d'un volant de point d'Alençon. Ruban de satin noir posé en bretelles sur les épaules, se croisant et se terminant devant, à la taille, par deux coques droites avec bouts flottants, tombant sur des pans carrés. Petite bande de zibeline garnissant tout le tour du collet. Doublure de satin Ophélie.

Jupe de satin noir. Manchon de velours garni de zibeline.

Chapeau lampion en feutre soyeux noir doublé de velours. Choux de satin sur le côté avec boutons de strass. Touffe de plumes avec aigrette. Bouquet de violettes derrière.

No. 1. — Visiting ensemble for young woman. Manon collar in amethyst velvet forming two pleats on each side of the shoulders. Pointed yoke fully embroidered in jet. Flared velvet collar trimmed with a point d'Alençon flounce. Black satin ribbon placed as straps on the shoulders, crossing and ending in front, at the waist, with two straight shells with floating ends, falling on square sides. Small strip of sable filling all around the collar. Ophelia satin lining.

Black satin skirt. Velvet sleeve trimmed with sable.

Lantern hat in black silky felt lined with velvet. Satin puffs on the side with rhinestone buttons. Tuft of feathers with egret. Bouquet of violets behind.

Matériaux: 5 mètres de velours, 5 mètres de satin, 4 mètres de ruban.

[identitynz-blog]

Buy Loobies Story Clothing Online At Identity. Loobies Story is a taste of whats happening around the world, the things I have coveted the most. A merging of urband essentials with a little bit of exotic, everyday. A collection that lets you tell your own unique + ever changing story.

[sweet-christabel]

One Dress a Day

Day 231 February - Brown Hamlet - Ophelia (Kate Winslet)

From one Ophelia to another! This time in Kenneth Branagh’s version of Hamlet, which is set in the 19th century. Ophelia wears this lovely brown blouse and floral skirt to listen to Hamlet going off on his crazy routine, (hence her worried expression - it’s either caused by Hamlet’s behaviour or his facial hair, and I’m not sure which). I really love the shape of the blouse, the pleats on the front are really pretty. The little scarf is cute too!

[elderling-magic]

Character Descriptions: Liveship Traders Trilogy

Once again, I might have missed some descriptions and any addition will be welcome. I might have especially missed descriptions on “Ship of Destiny” since I listened to the audiobook for that one.

Kennit: Tall, muscled porportionately, wide shoulders, long-fingered hands, tanned, high brow, firm jaw, straight nose, finely-drawn lips, beard fashionably pointed and ends of his moustache waxed and curled, has black ringlets of hair and pale blue eyes. He has a double thong of black leather with a small wooden face like his pierced at the brow and lower jaw  against his wrist, initially painted black. 

Kennit tattoos an Other on the nape of his neck in “Ship of Magic” (Kennit does tattoos and burns them after). He had a sevent pointed star tattoo on his hip that was seared after.

At the start of the trilogy on Others’ Island:  He wears boots, linen trousers, a brocated waistcoat, an indigo jacket with pockets, a white silk shirt with lacy cuffs, has a ring on his finger and wears a hat.

When Etta met him the first time: Wore a dark green broadcloth jacket with ivory buttons and a spill of white lace down his chest and at his cuffs. 

Mad Ship page 611: Wears a hat with black plumes and a jacket with silver buttons on the cuff.

Usually wears lace in cuffs and collar, high black boots, blue breeches, waistcoat and jacket. Has a crutch and peg after losing his leg.

Etta: She is straight (no roundness or softness) and very thin, near as tall as Kennit, long-limbed, has dark eyes, narrow hands, long flat flanks, slight roundness of belly, modest breasts, black hair cut off short ot reaching her shoulders (cut of square like a boy’s) and the planes of her face are long and flat. She has a tiny white skull, small as an apple pip, atached to a fine silver wire that pierced her navel. Kennit offers her a earring with a ruby.

First outfit on the ship: She wears lavender perfume, an emerald silk loose-sleeved blouse tucked into brocaded trousers, a cloth-of-gold sash around her waist, a tiny ruby earring and a lush fur-lined cloak. 

2nd outfit on the ship: Azure cotton shirt, dark woollen trousers and a short matching woollen jacket, black knee-boots, gaudy scarf confining her hair leaving only the tips free to brush across her cheeks.

3rd outfit (seen by Wintrow): Silk blouse, brocaded vest and trousers. 

4th outfit: Red lips, scarlet blouse, black silk skirts that shifted with her hips.

Wore gold fabric in “Ship of Destiny” (chapter 18). End of SOD: Simple black dress and the only jewelry was the miniature of Kennit strapped to her wrist and earrings he had given her, sleek black hair pinned up with jewel pins.

Wintrow Vestrit: 13 years old at the start of the book and turns 14 during the trilogy. Thin, shorter than Malta, has big dark brown eyes, fine black hair, long dark lashes, warm colored skin, cheeks and jaw lost most of a child’s roundness, white teeth. Gets a tattoo with the Satrap’s sigil beside his nose and next to that a larger tattoo of Vivacia in his face. Only 4 fingers in the right hand, index (forefinger) finger missing.

Wears a novice brown robe and no shoes. Wears shirt and trousers on the ship. Wears his black hair in a plait queue. Has two suits of canvas shirts and trousers for crew work. Sailor on shore clothes: Loudly-striped woven shirt and coarse black trousers that did not fit him well, shirt hung long and full on him. Wears loose white shirt a bit large for him tucked into dark blue trousers. Chapter 18 in SOD: Wide-sleeved shirt of dark blue silk embroidered with ravens. End of SOD: wore black to match Etta.

Althea Vestrit: 19 years old. Small like her mother, thin, has a long waist, round hips, small breasts, black wiry hair, black eyes, is tanned. 

When a child: Hair cut to no more than a brush, was barefoot and bare-armed, hair queued down her back, wore trousers and a jacket. 

When she arrives in Bingtown: Petticoat , overskirts, blouse, vest, lacy shawl, lace snood to confine her hair, straw hat addorned with feathers, dove-grey and pale blue trim. 

To see Ronica at night: Wears a striped shirt and black trousers of a sailor on shore, long dark queue of hair down her back. 

When she runs away:  Simple dark dress, modest jacket and laced sandals. Wears 2 simple silver hoop earrings and a wooden egg bead of warm brown with the grain around it rather than from end to end that Amber gave her. 

On the Reaper: Wears an oilskin, pigtail, shirt and trousers. She has a wooden egg in a single strand of leather about her neck. Flat cap pulled low on her brow and boy’s clothes.  Wears felted stockings and heavy boots and a knitted cap on the Reaper.

Split in her scalp as long as Brashen’s little finger and gape open from the pull of her queue on SOM.

Council meeting: Magenta robe, hair pinned up, touch of colour to her lips, garnet earrings swinging from her ears given by Grag.

Work on Paragon: Hair sweated to her skull, loose white trousers and roomy tunic of the same fabric. Wears ship’s tag from Ophelia at her belt.

When Paragon sails: white blouse, split skirt with matching vest, shoes. Althea is wearing the same outfit to meet Vivacia again in SOD, with plaited and pinned hair.

Brashen gives Althea a brightly colored scarf that she binds her hair with, hoop earrings embelished with jade and garnet beads and a necklace in Davytown (SOD).

Ronica Vestrit: Small and dark woman with silver in her hair and high cheekbones. Usually wears her hair pinned up in a similar way as Keffria’s and wears a loose household robe. For reyn’s visit she had a dress of pale green linen with skirts sashes about her waist and over-blouse laced up from behind, pearl necklace and earrings. When althea comes back home: wearing a simple day-gown of creamy linen, hair coiled and perfumed, silver chain in her throat. Has a parasol on the day Paragon set sail.

Keffria Vestrit: Olive skin, dark long hair. Wears a simple blue woolen robe and usually uses long pins to fix her hair. For Reyn’s visit Malta plaited her hair into coils. Has a parasol on the day Paragon set sail.

Malta Vestrit: 12 years old at the start of the book and turns 13 during the trilogy. Warm-toned skin, long straight shiny black hair, taller than Wintrow, developed early. Has one greyish blue fingertip mark on the back of her neck after meeting Amber on Paragon. She gains a scarlet crown that extends back into her hairline one full finger lenght, has scales on brows, lips and arms on SOD.

Harvest ball: The outer edges of her ears and ear-lobes are traced the same color of her eyelids, wears a necklace and a dress of pale green silk with lace that frothed in her bosom and accessible panels of the skirts.

Cerwin and Dello’s visit: Simple woollen shift, embroidered at the throat and hem, sashed tight to show her waist, painted lips, brushed hair. 

Council meeting: Hair swept from her face, braided and secured to the crown of her head, artless tendrils danced on her forehead and brushed the top of her cheeks, tiny roses deep red. Very simple trader’s robe deep magenta (Vestrit color), round neckline, ankle-lenght, belted at the waist like a monk’s robe by a black leather wide belt with stylized initial that formed the buckle.

Reyn’s visit: Hair in gleaming coils, white dress with red flower pinned to the shoulder, another flower fastened into her upswept hair. 

Meet cerwin in the night and 2nd dream box: White nightdress. 

Reunion with Amber: Wrapper of thick blue wool over her white nightgown.

Summer ball: Stockings, bright panels of fabric set into the lavish sleeves of her dress had once been skirts of another dress, lace at her cuffs.

Rescuing Cosgo and Kekki: robe on rags, only one shoe on. Later she cuts the hems of the robe and fashions them into a head wrap to cover her head on the Chalcedean ship.

SOD ball: Slippers, white laced gloves that came to her elbows and cleverly fashioned to show glints of her scaling through the lace. Gown was a confection of white with hidden panels of scarlet fabric that would flash when Reyn whirled her.

Selden Vestrit: 7 years old at the start of the book. He has silver scales across his cheeks near the middle of SOD and a blue shimmer to his lips. Day Paragon sails: Wears blue trousers and a white shirt. 

Brashen Trell: 24 years old. Brown eyes, heavy brows, bristle beard, long moustache to hide corners of the mouth, muscled and shorter than Kyle, has a thick patch of curly hair in the centre of his chest and black stubble elsewhere on his chest and belly. 1st Outfit: He wears battered shoes and the edges of his rough cotton trousers are tattering. 2nd Outfit: Striped shirt, stockings, woolen trousers. 3rd Outfit: Yellow silk shirt, scarf at his throat, dark blue trousers, short jacket with some mending, hat (visit to the Vestrits). Day Paragon sails: White shirt and dark blue trousers and jacket. He has gaps in his brows in SOD after the serpent’s attack.

Amber: Gold skin, hair and eyes (tawny), bones of her cheeks and line of her nose too sharp to be feminine, flat chested and narrow hipped. Wears 4 swaying mismatched earrings:  twisted wooden serpent in the left ear and a shining dragon in her right (each as long as a man’s thumb), freedom earring of silver net with a blue gem. (Later is dragon earring on the left ear and serpent swinging on the right...) She changes her skin during SOD and has skin and hair a bit darker.

When Althea first sees her: Wearing a long brown gown that hungs simply from her shoulders and has bare feet. When Althea encounters her again: Dressed in a long simple robe the color of a ripe acorn and has her hair down her back in a single shining plait. The fabric of her robe fells in pleats from her shoulders to the hem, concealing every line of her body. Her hands are gloved and she wears a necklace of simple wooden beds in every tone of brown that wood can be..

Slave Outfit: Smudge-faced, tattoo across one wind-reddened cheek, crusty sore encompassed half her upper lip and left nostril. Dirty hair pulling free from a scruffy braid, shirt of rough cotton, bare feet peeped out from her patched skirts, dirty bandage bound one of her ankles, rough canvas work gloves replaced the lacy ones Amber habitually wore, dirty canvas tote concealed inside a marked basket. Ragged scarf tied about her head and over her ears. She tucked her earrings up, out of sight.

Traders’ meeting: Wearing a simple golden-brown robe almost the same shade as the many plaited hair that hung over her shoulders.

On Paragon before sailing: Loose pantaloons, blouse and a vest, freed hair floated in the wind. Day Paragon sails: Togs of an ordinary sailor but buttons on trousers and shirt were carved beads, snuggly laced vest with fanciful butterflies embroidered in it, pale honey-.wood skin and hair, eyes almost the same shade, long hair back, braided and pinned to her head, mismatched earrings. 

After serpent’s attack in SOD: Tawny hair hang from a peeling red scalp, the left side of her face and neck was scarlet, she walked with a limp and her hold her left arm close to her body.

Reyn Khuprus: Close to 20 years old at the start and turns 20 during the trilogy. Bronze skin, thick black curly hair, copper eyes with blue shine, blue highlight scales, scaled brow and scales around mouth and eyes. 

First appearance: Blue gown with a jewel fastened at the throat (on the scarf - wears it life a muffler), heavily cloaked, face veiled, gloved hands, two small blue flame-jewels on his cuff. Veil that covered his face was split. 

Visit to Malta: Dressed all in blue, discarded cloak of dark blue on a chair, traditional rain wild garb of loose trousers and long-sleeved shirt. Lean waist sashed with a wide silk belt of a darker hue than his other clothes, black boots peeped out from the loose cuffs of his trousers, fine black gloves studded with azure flame-gems, plain hoodmade of the same silk as the sash, face veil with black lace.

Summer ball: Veil of black lace, hood that covered his hair and back of his neck secured with an elaborated folded cravat of white silk, soft white shirt and black trousers, slim waist and narrow hips, wide shoulders, light dancing boots were filigreed with silver and gilt to match his veil.

End of SOD: Close-fitted indigo jacket, white cuffs, collar and trousers, black knee boots and small gold hoops in his ears.

Jani Khuprus: Smooth-faced for a rain wild trader, markings are subtle, pebbly outline traced the edge of her lips and eyelids. the white of her eyes and hair teeth and nails flow bluish. First appearance: Heavy outer cloak and hood. Scarlet flame jewels, lighter mantle of ivory also hooded and the lace veil was part of it. 15 flame jewels the size of shelled almonds. First Vestrit Visit: Scattering of flame jewels red on her face-veil. Reyn’s presentation to Malta: Face veil white lace shimmering with pearls, loose hood that covere her head decorated with braided and coiled silken tassels in many shades of blue. she wore an extravagantly beribboned blouse and loose pantaloons that were gathered at her ankles with yet more ribbons. Fanciful embroidery almost obscured the white linen that backed it.  

Serilla: She is a head taller than Cosgo, has green eyes, brown hair, wears the ring of the companions of the heart and sandals. She was 19 when she met Cosgo. After cosgo calls her back (page 538 on "Mad Ship”): Loose pair of white pantaloons and red silk shirt, trousers belted with a finely woven black scarf, embroidered vest covered her breasts, hair braided back from her face, earrings and a throatpiece, fingers decked with rings, heavy chain of gold about her ankle. Summer ball: wears a cream gown. Council in SOD: long soft white robe decorated with crossing ropes of cloth of gold, long sleeves and cloak.

Satrap Cosgo: Taller than Malta, lean, no muscle, white skin, dark hair and eyes and has a tiny thin mustache. He was 15 when he met Serilla. Summer ball: Clothing soft and flowing in pastel hues, pale blue trousers cuffed tight to his ankles above his low soft shoes, loose folds of his saffron shirt shawled about his throat and shoulders. SOD: heavy scarlet cloak (too big for him) trimmed with jet beads and with a hood lined with fur given on Vivacia and used when he is taken by the Jamaillian ship.

Kekki: She has dark hair. Summer ball: Wears a gown of feathers and lace.

Jek: Long blonde hair caught in a tail, white teeth, long-boned and well muscled. On first appearance she wears a leather doublet, boots and a light cloak. On Paragon she wears sailor’s trousers that reach no farther than her knee, she did not bind her breasts and her hair was in a long braid.

Grag Tenira: Blue eyes, bronze skin, handsome, has work-scarred fingers and well muscled legs. In Bingtown: Dark coat and trousers and a white shirt. Traders’ Council: Dark blue traders robe seafarer style that show his legs and sandalled feet. Hiding: Dark shirt open at the throat and loose white trousers, golden earring.

Kyle Haven: Big man with broad hands, blue eyes and unruly blond hair. Wears tight-fitting breeches of blue and a blue jacket over a shirt of soft cream. Hair plaited with oil (first talk with Wintrown on the ship when tries to give him a earring). (Sailors wear something that marks them as a crew from Vivacia. An earring, a scarf, a pin or a tattoo. Kyle offers Wintrow a small gold earring with Vivacia’s figurehead - that he refuses.)

Ephron Vestrit: Black eyes, smooth black queue hair, beard.

Cerwin Trell: Slender, milky-skinned and has black hair. Harvest ball: blue trousers and coat, black boots, single gold earring in one ear, hair curled into long locks. 

Delo Trell: She has brown eyes. Harvest ball: Wears a deep blue dress, hair plaited into a crown decked with fresh flowers, flounce of lace on her short skirts that went almost to mid calf and matching lace trimmed the high collar and cuffs. No jewellery. Summer ball: She wears blue stones at her throat and wrists and on the fine silver chains that secured her unswept hair, eyes and mouth are painted and has a fan.

Sorcor: Large well-muscled man with thick chest and a beard, tanned, has dark eyes and a scarred cheek where once was a slave tattoo. Oils his hair sleeked back from his bow for formal look. Wears a shirt of red and white striped silk and mermaid earrings with tiny pearls in her navels and green eyes. Dresses in a wide array of fine clothes in colors that bedazzled the eye. Silk scarf on his waist, jewelled dagger stuck in it, yellow silk shirt. Has a vest with gilt buttons, unruly hair caught back in a queue and further confined in a bright gold kerchief. In Chapter 18 of SOD: Emeralds in his ears and broad belt of leather worked with silver held two matching swords.

Davad Restart: Immaculately groomed, leggings bagged slightly at the knees, embroidered doublet laced too tight, modest belly looked like a bulging pot, dark ringlets on oiled hair but almost no curl so it fell in greasy locks. Small hands.

Caolwn Festrew: Leather gloves, cowl hiding face and hair, sagging growths on her face bobbed with movement of head, violet/lavender eyes, scaly growths that threatened her eyesight, lumpy flesh visible at the parting of her thick bronze hair, lumps and wattles of flesh depended from her fingers and knobbed the back of it were rubbery. Veil of lace in the hood tro cover the face.

Sparse Kelter: Wide man, red beard and red hair down his arms but not much on the crown of his head, has a chest as big as a barrel.

Ekke: Tall woman with freckles, big boned and has a red tint in her sandy tousled hair.

Cleff: About 11 years old, blue eyes, light hair and has a spidery tattoo by the side of his nose. He wears a ragged tunic scarcely longer than a shirt while working for Davad.

Dedge: Sea-grey eyes, hair no more than a fringe above his ears, muscled, tattoos on his face, sash of silk about his waist.

Gankis: An old sailor shorter than Kennit, has brown eyes, wears low shoes and a worn coat with big pockets.

Torg: Brawny man, not tall, has short blond hair, pale grey eyes and white eyebrows, skin underneath his round chin began to sag into a pouch. Wears a kerchief around his neck anciengly soiled, the collar of his blue and white striped shirt shows an interior band of brown.

Sa’Adar: Big priest, mark of shackles on wrists and ankles. unkempt hair spills onto his forehead, clothes have not been washed in days, dark eyes.

Mild: Around Wintrow’s age and a full head taller than him, hard-muscled, grey eyes and the hair on his cheeks is starting to dark into proper whiskers.

Comfrey: Has an elaborated tattoo on his arm and is missing a tooth. Wears a ragged red cap adorned with cheap brass charms.

Gantry: Tanned.

Ankle: Dark eyes (slave girl that crippled herself and limps).

Kennit’s mom: Thick woman with grey hair pinned up, blue eyes, barefoot, dressed in cotton tunic and trousers and has her tongue cut out.

Berandol: Young priest with more than 20 years old.

Bettel: Black locks into ringlets, wears layers of powder, wears lots of jewels, breasts showing volume on dress.

Avoretta: Small pale woman with an heart-shaped face and large blue eyes. Has painted pink chees, a plump little mouth painted red, short golden hair in tight curls all over her head. Dressed in pale blue with nipples visible beneath the pale gauze of her dress, wears gilted jewellery. 

Faldin: Wears brilliant colors and extravagant embroidery. Expanse of fabric round his girth. Earrings were an elaborate twining of gold and silver. Wears a vest.

Daughters: Pale skin and honey hair (typical in Durja), almond-shaped hazel eyes, plump with bare arms round and white. One no more than 15 and the other at most 17. Alyssum and Lily.

Road Caern: Young trader, tall, lean, has dark eyes and black hair (usually in a tail), a sharp nose and narrow lips. Harvest ball: Hair flowed down his back in a black stream and his shoulders strained the seams of his tailored coat.

Krion Trentor: Harvest ball: Dressed in grey with a golden scarf at his throat. White gloves. Always wears gloves to cover the scars where he stumbled into a fire as a child. Aurburn hair, freckles, green eyes.

Fayla Cart - Old woman with a hair growing out of a warty looking mole on her chin. (first dress maker recommended by Delo to Malta)

Territel: Wears her skirts as if they were silk scarves, clinging and revealing her legs.  (seamstress Malta chooses)

Devon: Gray eyes and handsome. (Althea’s first crush and a jerk)

Dujia: Heavy boned woman with tattoos across her cheek and down to her neck. Ragged trousers and patched tunic, bare feet dirty, bandage upon her upper arm (lider of the tattooed).

Guards in Cress: Kentel - Bearded veteran with a white stripe tracing an old scar through his dark hair and down his cheek; Flav - Younger and brawny. Both tall.

Clava: Slave Wintrow meets in Jamaillia. Blue eyes, yellow hair choped into a short brush, wide shoulders, very pale, wore shift patched and stained, shirt over her shoulders, face overwritten with tattoos.

Pag’s daughter: blue eyes (woman serving drinks in Nook - Crimpers scene).

Captain Finney: Brawny, whiskery-faced man, bright eyes, red-veined nose.

Brig: No more than 25 yo. Chestnut hair confined by a yellow kerchief marked with the raven insignia, grey eyes, old slave tattoo on his face over-needled with a dark blue raven that almost obscured it.

Lop: Skinny man of middle years on board of Paragon.

Haf: Larger than Althea, well muscled, youngster on board of Paragon.

Other in SOM: Nearly as tall as Kennit, webbed fingers and toes, flexible limbs, flat fish eyes, cartilaginous sockets, supple scaled skin, blunt bald head misshapen (not human or fish), hinge of jaw under his ear holes, large mouth that could engulf a man’s head, thin lips that cannot conceal rows of tiny sharp teeth, shoulders slumped forward, greyish tongue, neckless body. Wears a garment like a cloak of pale azure that moved like the fluidity of water.

Other in SOD: heavy slug like body, flexible limbs on upper body, long fingered hands, webbed fingers, grey-green body, yellow cloak, flat eyes.

LIVESHIPS:

Paragon: Warrior with a beard, hairy chest and muscled arms usually crossed on his muscled chest. He has hatchet bites between brow and nose and a peculiar star with 7 points livid as a burn scar on his chest. The chopped part is grey despite the figurehead being painted. Amber gives him a necklace with five wooden beds on a cord: a dolphin made of willow knee, a gull, a oak seastar, a crab of pine knot and a fish of halibut. 

In “Ship of Destiny” Amber gives him Fitz’s face with the broken nose and gives him a freedom earring like hers, a wooden bracelet and a axe. He has blue eyes. Amber carves charging bucks on his axe handle and battle harness at the end of SOD.

Vivacia: Silver wood, black hair, sanded flesh flushed pink, green eyes, ample bared breasts, perfect teeth, red lips, golden maple wood figurehead. Kennit gives her a long red piece of fabric that she ties to her head like a pirate scarf.

Slaves bought by Kyle and on board the Vivacia had a clenched fist tattoo.

Bolt: She has golden eyes like a whirpool with black at the center, jet black hair shot with silver greens like a nest of serpents, lips are redder than Vivacia’s and her teeth are too white and smaller than before.

Ophelia: A cog ship. Like many figureheads of her day, she is arrayed upon the beakhead of the ship rather than positioned on the stern below the bowsprit. She has lips painted scarlet, very white teeth, long loose curls, patrician hands and eyelashes. She got blackened/scorched hands after meeting the chalcedean ship. Amber fixed her hands after.

Kendry: Handsome young man figurehead with blue eyes.

SERPENTS:

Maulkin: Male serpent with copper eyes and golden false eyes in his body.

Shreever: Scarlet female serpent.

Sessurea: Male blue serpent with orange mane and great green eyes.

Tellur: Male green serpent (dead).

Kelaro: Male blue serpent with silver eyes.

Sylic: Male scarlet serpent, has a scar (dead).

She Who Remembers: head the size of a pony, pale yellow-green body, plump and soft, thick layers of callus where she rubbed against the rocky walls of her prison, has golden eyes and a faint pattern on the body in colors that remind of the eyes in a peacock’s tail. When freed her body is green-gold (dead).

Carrion: White male serpent with red eyes (dead).

Tintaglia (dragon): Silver blue, bigger than a ship, sharp silver claws, silver/copper eyes (it changes... but usually is silver) the size of cartwheels with eliptical pupils.

[mollyingramart]

As a continuation into the focus on the pre raphaelite brother hood and romanticism, I have been studying the artist Millais, a pre raphaelite artist who painted this interpretation of Ophelia from Shakespeare's 'Hamlet'. (This is only a section however I felt this showed the most flowers).

I have also been researching fashion of this time, with loose waistlines, lack of corsets and puffy sleeves all being common introductions by the pre raephalites. The pre raphaelites had an idealistic view of harking back to simpler, medieval times and I think this is clear in the beautiful simple designs that focus on minute details instead of large petticoats and restrictive garments (we can link the restriction of corsets to the repression of society in this Victorian era). By removing this restrictive clothing, it allowed a sense of freedom and it has even been said clothes 'were a symbol of new, freer lifestyle which promoted more agency for the women that wore them' (link is the reference for this quote).

To begin my research into combining pre raphaelite fashion with my subject of flora, I began to create designs just based on some research of paintings from the time as well as modern interpretations of the fashion, as I wanted to identify the key characteristics of the time.

I also began to create an interpretive design of Millais' Ophelia, as even though the flowers are technically in the stream/river, I thought it would be really effective if they were actually stitched onto the garment.

Combined with the slightly puffed sleeves (these would most likely be made from an organza-type material to give this translucent effect) and the simplistic dress shape, I think this illustration captures the PRB (pre raphaelite brotherhood) really well. The PRB also focus on finding the beauty in nature, using muted colours within both their fashion and paintings but with high amounts of detail (once again evident in this illustration). I also annotated with quotes from 'Hamlet', as there are so many references to the symbolism of the flowers that Millais has then included within his painting, such as pansies representing thoughts.

Finally, I started to drape and pin fabric onto a mannequin that gives an idea of how this dress may be (of course these may not be the perfect fabric choices etc however I think it gives a good idea of shape). I used pleats to give slight volume to the skirt, however in keeping with the PRB fashion of the time, simplicity was still key. Within Millais' painting, Ophelia has a flower necklace on (possibly violets) however I think this would make a really beautiful stitched or embroidered neckline (possibly even using 3d elements). This draping example is not complete as I have many more flowers to add however I think it gives a really good idea of the direction and general ideas for this project.

[bittersuitejacobs]

• an unhealthy obsession • Nate Jacobs •

one. spectacle

Summary: A new school year is about to begin and after reinventing herself into the perfect prey, Ophelia finds herself in Nate Jacobs' crosshairs far sooner than she'd expected, at McKay's end of Summer party.

Warnings: SMUT, drinking, semi-public fingering, implied traumatic childhood.

A/N: 3032 words. Coming out of the gates red hot. This whole fic is very self indulgent, you have been warned. Looking forward to hearing what you guys think about this set up. ❤️

{ masterpost }

THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

---

Nate Jacobs was a shockingly easy person to read.

Ophelia Chase, who was no stranger to falling into obsession - whether it was with books, movies, shows, or people - found him to be an incredibly alluring subject for observation, so perhaps it was less that Nate himself was easy to read, and more that Ophelia was a most competent reader. Either way, she'd noticed his apparent saviour complex, his desperate desire to be some kind of hero, especially when it came to Maddie. It had started with this idle thought, a curiosity as to whether she could use it to get him to notice her too.

Ophelia knew in a rather detached way that she has become someone who others would consider objectively hot. It stemmed from being an unfortunately plain and sickly child, which continued for most of her experience being homeschooled through middle school, as did her less than flattering wardrobe and hair choices. Both of which were courtesy of a controlling mother who was struggling with feeling out of control in her own life and making up for it by treating her only daughter like the World's ugliest doll. At least that's what Ophelia had believed for a long time; the sickness that too plagued her childhood, left her feeble and frail and often bedridden was less an act of God, as her mother so often wept, but an act of malice perpetrated by the very same woman. Now, with an entirely too permissive father who travelled for work, and no more poisons being discretely fed to her, to keep her needing the mother who feared her freedom, Ophelia was finally, after years, beginning to come into her own as a teenager.

But she started in the background.

She worked hard to remain unnoticed. At parties hosted by her peers, she dressed well enough not to stand out, but never enough to draw attention to herself. Observing from the sidelines, drink in hand, figuring out the creatures around her, it's how she first properly noticed Nate, not that he was entirely foreign to her to begin with. But the real obsession started when she'd noticed his wandering eyes, clinging to those she hadn't anticipated him being drawn to, always when he knew Maddie wasn't looking. Pretty girls, sweet girls, girls who were surprisingly different to his admittedly beautiful but brash girlfriend.

Maddie was a hurricane of a girl, Ophelia wondered if Nate was trying to tame her like a bucking bull.

Nate wants to be in charge. Wants to be the hero. Wants.

And Ophelia wanted him.

So it started with catching the eye.

It started with dressing the part.

After spending the Summer in Sweden with her father, she gets back a few days before her Senior year starts with high hopes and set intentions. A day at the mall has her set with a whole new wardrobe, and Mckay's party is the first chance she has to try it out. Its a far cry from the baggy jeans and graphic tees she'd spent most of the past few years in. A tight, white t-shirt with the words 'Too Sweet' stretched across her chest, tucked into a high waisted pleated skirt with a flirty hem on her thighs, the look was completed with white, knee high socks and a pair of cherry red flats. Her long, healthy hair was pulled into two messy buns, and she kept her makeup light, apart from the red lip she wore. The perfume, however, was a novelty, aift from her father, sweet and citrusy, from one of his trips to Spain.

If this was to be the debut of the new and eye catching Ophelia Chase, she'd make sure everything was absolutely perfect. She'd even been practicing, for far longer than she was willing to admit, to hide the Southern twang to her accent, mirrored from her father, whom she'd spent most of her time with growing up.

However, when she finally arrived at the party itself, it seemed she still had a lot to learn, considering she was unable to abandon her wallflower ways. Drink in hand, she received no shortage of attention considering her look, but still felt awkward being noticed so much more than she usually was, even after taking a few dexys a pretty boy offered her as she'd headed to the bathroom. Or perhaps they'd made her too aware of how different, how out of place she felt when caught in their gazes.

There was a moment where Nate, who'd she'd been seeing around all night, gorgeous and shirtless, swanning around like he owned the place, actually noticed her. He's drunk, had been since she'd arrived around eleven, but he'd also been pressed up on some girl who definitely wasn't his girlfriend, so Ophelia kept her focus elsewhere. Still, it made her smile; his tumultuous relationship with Maddie apparently wouldn't be a problem tonight. Every cruel aside her mother had hissed long ago about the likes of Nathaniel Jacobs whenever his family had been brought up blow through her mind at once. She often wondered how much of her mother's ire had come from a place of truth; she warned Ophelia that just being near him would spoil her, ruin her, taint her in some terrible, intangible way. As a child, she'd thought that couldn't possibly be true. At seventeen, however, the prospect kind of thrilled her.

Now, she was sitting on the arm of a sofa, pleats of her perfectly white skirt splitting on her thigh as she chatted lightly with a girl she'd seen around school, hanging out with Maddie and Kat; BB. Out of the corner of her eye she spots him in the kitchen, pouring another shot for himself, when he looks up and catches sight of her.

Ophelia's heart is in her throat suddenly -

BB makes an amusing observation about someone across the room, and Ophelia's momentarily caught up in laughter. Its only when BB grins broadly at the laughing girl and announces she's going to get a drink, asking if Ophelia wants one, to which she smiles sweetly and agrees. In her own head, she's wondering if she has time to head outside for a cigarette, and doesn't notice she now has new company before he speaks.

"Cute shirt, is it true?" Giving a start at the sudden voice beside her, Ophelia then looks down for a second, before seeing the 'Too Sweet' emblazoned tightly across her chest. Looking up again, she sees Nate smirking with amusement, "I get the feeling it is."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Like her heart isn't going a hundred miles an hour in her chest. He offers her a shot, one of the two he's holding, eyebrows raised in silent question, silent challenge. Ophelia wet her lips, smiling slyly, attempting to regain her composure, "not sure if I should be accepting drinks from strange men," still, she took it from his hands, heady buzzing in her ears from the brief moment their fingers brush.

They've had multiple classes together since the start of high school.

"I'm Nate," he offered, "now we're not strangers, Too Sweet." He offered his own shot to cheers.

"Fi," she cheerses him, and they both take the shots. Ophelia, who's been drinking around the world for years, isn't bothered by the way it burns, but pretty girls, sweet girls, they're not supposed to take shots like it's nothing. Tequila was always something she enjoyed, though she prefers it with a chaser, it still brought back fond memories of time spent in Mexico with her dad. Ophelia makes a face, shudders a little, and listens to the way Nate laughs at her reaction, pride blooming in her chest at her own performance. He takes the shot glasses and puts them on a nearby table that's already covered in bottles and cups, returning to take the seat BB had just vacated. He's got a hand on her thigh, sliding just up beneath the hem of her skirt.

"How come I've never seen you around before?" He had, Ophelia had just never been worth looking at before now. Feeling uncharacteristically bold, Ophelia shifts, presses her leg into his hand just a little.

"Who says you haven't?"

"Because I'd remember a pretty girl like you," he gives her thigh a squeeze, and Ophelia can feels like she's about to go into cardiac arrest from the way he's looking at her. Everything feels warm and fuzzy and wonderful and Ophelia thinks about how fucking often she'd pictured this moment, this 'first' meeting, but never imagined it going this well. Instead, Ophelia laughs, blush rising on her cheeks.

"Fuck, I thought I was the sweet one," she dropped her gaze.

"You are from where I'm sitting," he wets his lips, once again looking her over, gaze clearly leering. Emboldened as she feels the shot start to hit her, she slid from the arm of the sofa into his lap.

"You wanna check again?" Not in a thousand years could she have imagined how this situation would be playing out. Nate Jacobs' arm around her, Nate Jacobs holding her face, Nate Jacobs running his thumb along her bottom lip as he gazed at her with what she can only describe as want. His thumb comes away clean, her shiny, transfer-proof lipstick proving itself to be true. Ophelia can read the amusement in his eyes, "I didn't want it coming off on my drinks," her blush only grew deeper, despite the fact it was the thinnest truth, self conscious of any alternative situations he may have assumed she was preparing for.

"Too sweet," Nate had muttered faintly with a smirk, Ophelia grinned back, letting him pull her in for a kiss. They're both drunk, Ophelia's head spinning as he nips at her lip, deepens the kiss into something messy and passionate, his tongue in her mouth, hand moving from her face to her thigh. She's not sure when she moved to straddle his lap, but she hears the appreciative way he murmurs, "that's right," against her lips as she wraps her arms around his neck, pressed against him, his hands on her ass.

It was as if her blood was singing in her veins to be in this moment, at this party, already wrapped up in the very boy who's attention she'd designed herself hoping to entice. The future, the concequenses, be damned; she moaned into Nate's mouth as he roughly groped her ass.

One of his hands moves, warm and broad as it trailed back over her thigh beneath her skirt. Nate has always known what he wants, was always rather direct about it too, from what Ophelia had witnessed, and now was no different. When he pushes her pretty, lace panties to the side, sliding a finger into her with ease in the middle of the party, Ophelia gasps.

"So fucking wet," Nate teased, already adding another finger, curling them inside of her. Instead of a proper response, Ophelia's eyes fell closed, biting her lip to hold back the pleased noises trying to escape her. If anyone around then had taken notice - which they hadn't, since Nate's hand on her ass under her skirt was enough for everyone to already look away - Ophelia didn't care.

Nate kisses her again, rougher this time, biting at her lip, finger fucking her in his lap as his other hand came up to rest on the back of her neck in a firm grip. Blaming the drinking, or the music, or the dexys, or shirtless, flirty Nate goddamn Jacobs, Ophelia sighs and whimpers into Nate's mouth as her hips rock gently against his fingers, his thumb insistent against her clit.

"Nate-" she chokes out breathlessly as she's getting close, forehead pressed against his. Nate smirks at her, looks so goddamn pleased with himself, but thankfully doesn't stop.

"Gonna make you cum in the middle of the party, aren't I?" He goads, all warm and encouraging and smug. She wants to tell him to shut up, but he's unfortunately right, and Ophelia's not getting anywhere close to coherent right now. All she can do is nod, weakly, panting and breathless as she feels herself begin to topple over the edge, "slut," he goads against her lips with a grin. Ophelia leans in, kissing him to muffle how she's whimpering as her orgasm crashes through her, stars bursting bright behind her eyes, a mix of shame and elation following in its wake.

Never ever could have imagined this.

Coming down from the sudden rush of endorphins, she pulls back a little, only to see Nate's smug, wide smile as he removes his fingers from her, raising them to his lips. Ophelia, who was already shocked by her own actions, breathing hard, arms still around his neck, watches with a flustered, wide-eyes gaze as Nate sticks both fingers in his mouth, tasting her, tasting what he'd been able to do to her.

"Sweet girl," his grin is all teeth; Ophelia feels trapped in his dark, hungry gaze, but desire still burns low in her gut amid the satisfaction. Nate's hand finds her thigh again, squeezing gently, "lets get another drink and go upstairs; you can return the favour."

Fuck, her mum was right. She'd absolutely let him ruin her.

Ophelia nods eagerly, despite her expression still clearly reading as flustered, but before she can, he pulls her in for a final kiss, makes her taste herself on his tongue. A soft, needy noise escapes her, and before he finally lets her stand, Nate mutters -

"Such a good fucking girl, Fi."

She thinks she might pass out with how much she wants him right now.

As she stands, he smacks her ass before he gets up, and Ophelia, having regained access to her higher brain function, rolls her eyes at him, but grins.

But in the kitchen, halfway through pouring another drink, someone Ophelia vaguely recognises as one of Nate's friends mutters something to him that makes him furious. Its like he's forgotten her entirely, storming from the kitchen, leaving her utterly confused by the very sudden change. Debating whether to follow him or wait there, her mind is made up by the pretty, soft spoken blonde who compliments her outfit. The girl introduces herself as Jules, wearing a rather cute outfit of her own, in dark blues and florals, and Ophelia compliments her as such.

"I'm Ophelia, by the way," she offers with a bright smile, "but Lia's less of a mouthful," she offers with a laugh. Jules is new to town, and has the most beautiful laugh.

"Did you pick Ophelia?" Jules grins, but Ophelia shook her head.

"Mona couldn't find a way to feminize Hamlet," she smiled wryly, "so I had to grow up hearing 'never kill yourself over a boy'."

"Clearly she should have had more faith; you would totally own as Hamlet," Jules' face fell, however, as Ophelia's expression twists bitterly.

"I would," she agrees, head starting to feel fuzzy in all the wrong ways, as it did whenever she found herself reflecting on her mother, "Mona should have done a lot of things differently."

"Sorry," immediately Jules is apologising, "I shouldn't have -" but Ophelia tries to relax, giving her a tight smile.

"Shout out to terrible moms for breaking the stereotype," she managed, ruefully, grabbing the nearest bottle of liquor, forgoing a cup as she raised it in sarcastic cheers. Jules, however, barks a laugh, shaking her head.

"I will gladly drink to that," she offers in solidarity as Ophelia takes a large mouthful of the vodka. Surprised by the unfortunate common ground, something warms in her, the tension genuinely easing, and she offers the bottle. Jules only takes a token sip, but the moment breaks as both girls end up bursting into laughter, commiserating together.

When Ophelia leaves to find the bathroom, she assures Jules she'll return, but it's Jules who manages to disappear before she gets back. The atmosphere in the kitchen is tense. Nate is back but looks like he's more than half way to murderous as he's chugging the last of the vodka Ophelia had drunk from earlier.

And she barely gets through a sentence to him before he spits at her to fuck off. His gaze is so fucking cold -

"I just- are you- ?"

"I said -" he steps up to her, leaning in and radiating malevolent intent as he looms so large over her in this moment, "fuck. Off." Ophelia shrinks back, like she isn't thinking about how damn hot she thinks he is right now, how much she wants him to push her up against the nearest wall or counter.

"I'm going," she huffs, quietly defensive as a front, "sorry for trying to give a shit, Jesus fucking Christ," stepping back with placating hands. In her haste to get away, she misses the brief moment in which Nate's fury holds a flicker of surprise, but it passes, disperses as she retreats from the kitchen towards the front of the house. She doesn't see him throw the empty bottle in the garbage disposal with so much force it shatters upon impact, but she certainly hears it.

Mckay's house isn't really within walking distance, which she forgets until she's a block away and halfway through a cigarette. So she has to call herself an uber to return to the quiet, empty, upper-middle class family home that is the Chase residence. Tucked into bed, she's out before her head even hits the pillow, and only when she wakes up the next day, shocking hang over hitting her like a truck, that she can reflect on the night.

All things considered, it was at least a partial success. She'd definitely caught his attention, at least until something more important to him had stolen it. It wouldn't take her long to learn that it was Maddie and some college guy fucking in the pool, doing the exact same thing Nate has used Ophelia for; making the other jealous.

But, Ophelia thinks with quiet pride as she popped Advil and drank water like her life depended on it, that tonight was definitely a good start.

[you-are-my-neverland]

so. it’s finally time to talk about [my] nano.

i’ve kept my nano project pretty under wraps so far, mostly because it’s been out of my hands. i wasn’t actually planning on doing a for real for real nano; instead, i thought i would dedicate some time to my fanfic (spoiler alert, but i haven’t yet) or work on finishing up revising fairbone (spoiler alert: i did revise one chapter, but i still have like half of it left to go and a nov 30 deadline...rip). if that didn’t work, i thought i would pick a wip i started over the summer or one i had half developed (let’s just say the ideas note i have really boomed over the summer and like...yeah). in conclusion, there were many wips ready for me to work on them, including ash heart, which i really want to write but haven’t figured out how to.

instead i started a new wip.

well, it’s not necessarily new, persay. it’s an idea i’ve had stewing since like late september/early october and planned out a good portion of. however, deciding to start it was a last minute decision - and by last decision, i mean that on october 31st i finished developing the barebones of character development and basic plot lol and then gave it a go. it’s honestly been going crazy well. as of today (november 9th), i just hit 21.2k words. i’m hopeful about this year, while also not wanting to jinx stuff, but like...wow. but writing is has made me realize that, wow, this book is going to be crazy long probably...like i’m 21k words in and we’re still like in the exposition idk what’s going on. but hey, i finished planning out the rest of the basic plot for it today!!!

right. onto the wip details.

honestly, the only reason i haven’t introduced this wip is because a) i want actual stuff done on it and like a proven commitment, because i feel like too often i introduce wips i don’t actually go anywhere with and i hate it, b) i don’t have a set title and c) i actually have no idea how to summarize this.

the novel i’m working on right now is the first of a projected trilogy. i say projected because i have a vague idea that it belongs to a trilogy, but like not a lot of plot except some vaguely connected ideas that should happen in the future. in it, i used a lot of characters from these violent ends, which i tried to write for camp april 2020, but like just their basic barebones; i changed a lot to fit the story, of course. 

not to sound nerdy, but it is like....harry potter inspired, but ONLY in the magical boarding school sense. of course, right now all i have is magical boarding school shenanigans, which i don’t really like because i feel like it unfairly sets the book up as like fun magical stuff when it’s really about murder & politics & student activism (+ a lot of other things ending in -ism). the whole activism part came from watching the trial of the chicago 7 and i was like, bingo, this is what this story needs. 

kay but ANYWAYS. onto the story. like i said, i can’t really summarize it, but there are lots of themes of classism, feminism, the affect on youth and youth’s effect, manipulative adults, revolution, terrorism, sibling dynamics and found family vibes, like all that stuff...packaged into a magical boarding school off the coast of maine setting...recipe for disaster!

mainly i’ve been writing in ophelia’s pov, because she’s my main girl and she’s problematic, but also she’s trying her best and just having a little difficulty fitting in. some other main characters are her twin brother, sebastian, and two other boys, asriel and vincent, who have an initially animistic relationship with ophelia (& kind of each other?) but it’s like enemies to friends (to lovers?).

anyways. here are some carefully curated excerpts below the cut:

i. vincent and asriel meet on a train (ch. 1)

The boy pursed his lips together. “It’s unusual,” he said, finally. “That’s all.” But he was looking at Vincent as if he was noticing him, which meant he was lying, or at least withholding the truth about something. He added, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Do you mean geographically?” Vincent replied, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m from New York.”

A small glimmer of a smile appeared on the boy’s lips, though it vanished as quickly as it had come. “From the Magical World,” he clarified. 

“What gives it away?” Vincent asked sarcastically, waving a hand across his body. “My impeccable taste?”

“Among other things,” the boy said.

ii. sebastian and ophelia discuss grief on a ferry (ch.2 )

“You and mom talked?” Ophelia asked, surprised. She hadn’t exactly been keeping track of them, but she was sure she and Sebastian had spent much of the day together, as they were wont to do.

Sebastian looked at the floor. “Yeah,” he answered, hoarsely. “At least she wants to talk about Des. Dad doesn’t, and neither do you.”

Ophelia sighed, wondering why, today of all days, her sister was haunting them. Maybe it was because there should have been three people heading to Rijevduct, instead of two. Maybe Mother Magic was reminded of the loss of one of her own. 

“I’ve let her go,” she said. “You should too. We have too much of our lives ahead of us to mourn Desdemona forever.”

“I don’t mourn,” Sebastian said, words uncharacteristically sharp. “But I do grieve.”

“Isn’t that basically the same thing,” Ophelia mumbled, closing her eyes and feeling the press of a headache behind them. 

“Sorrow,” Sebastian said, the word a soft shudder. “And sad endings.”

“What?” 

“That’s what makes a good tragedy,” Sebastian answered. “I read it in a book.”

iii. headmistress alexeyev gives a speech (ch. 2)

“Eight years ago, seventy two students were slaughtered here. Some died on the very spot where you now stand today.” Ophelia glanced down at the floor, seeing the motion repeated instinctively around her as well. She looked over at Sebastian, who had closed his eyes instead, a pale flush meeting the faint color in his cheeks. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, tennis shoes scraping against stone as he toed them against the floor, as if he was shaking something only visible to him off.

“It was a tragedy,” Headmistress Alexeyev continued. “I say this because it is the truth. It was a tragedy, and not one that should never have happened.” She inhaled; Ophelia saw her chest rise, shoulders with it, in a sharp motion before she exhaled, body rearranging itself into poise once more. “I speak of this to tell you to assure you that Rijevduct is safe. I know there have been continuous doubts over the security of this school since that day eight years ago. I cannot, of course, guarantee that you will not come to any harm here. I cannot tell you that Rijevduct is the safe haven you were taught it was growing up; events have already proved that it is, in fact, not as impenetrable as one might think.”

Ophelia frowned, confused as to the line of reasoning. She had thought the whole point of the year of transition was to make sure that Rijevduct was infinitely more safer than it had been—and they had all been under the assumption that Rijevduct was virtually impenetrable until the massacre, which had led to the heightened security measures they saw today.

“I can, however, promise you that I, and everyone here today, will do anything in their power to keep you safe,” the Headmistress said. Next to Ophelia, Briar bowed her head, lowering her eyes and swallowing, the action almost a convulsion of her throat and mouth. Ophelia brushed her hand, lightly, in question, and the other girl just shook her head, looking away purposefully, so that Ophelia lost sight of her face and her sad eyes.

“These next three years will be far from easy. Gone are the sheltered lives where your parents could kiss your injuries goodbye, or sing you to sleep at night. Rijevduct is far from the cold, real world, but it is close enough when it comes to not asking you what you want first. This is an adjustment period. This is learning how to survive—and I will tell you this; surviving means many different things to many different people. You will have to decide on your own what this will mean for you, and how you will apply what you are taught here to your futures. Be wise. Be proud. Be humble. Cry. Laugh. Live. As your Headmistress, I, along with your professors, will be here throughout your time.” She raised her glass, “To the worthy,” and then drank, turning and walking back to her seat, which she lowered herself into gracefully.

iv. sebastian pov! (ch. 3)

There was a dead girl in Sebastian’s first period Magical Theory class. She was sitting diagonal from him, on the Glass side of the classroom, in an empty chair, staring straight ahead at the chalkboard. Sebastian tried not to look at her too obviously, his eyes straying from the open book in front of him to her cautiously, beneath the sleeve of his sweater.

She was sitting blankly in the chair, scraping her shoes against the ground, though they could not leave any scuff marks. Though she was the same faded shades most girls were, Sebastian could make out her pleated pale blue plaid skirt, which brushed around her knees, and the stained white blouse that might have once been spotless, but had been marred forever by the circumstances surrounding her death—objectively, that was to say, with blood. Her dark brown hair fell into loose curls around her shoulders, little silver studs glinting dimly, unable to catch the light. Her knee high socks now pooled around her calves and ankles, revealing a rotting bandaid on one of her knees. One of her tennis shoes was peeling at the toes, looking as if it had been ripped apart. 

Her fingernails had all been pulled off. Sebastian was good at analyzing ghosts by this point; he recognized the bloody flesh and bone of the nail bed. There was also blood matted across her head, trickling down her temple, with bruises covering her body; they peeked out from beneath the collar of her shirt, blackened across her cheekbones with a sunken quality in particular to one of her cheeks, as if the bone had begun to cave.

Subjectively, she was far from one of the worst that Sebastian had seen.

[midorilied]

Would it be okay if I tried to make a Darkwing Cosplay based on your design? I really like it and want to make one for myself. If it's okay, do you have any tips or advice? I totally understand if you say no, thanks :)

Oh yeah, certainly!Ok so a lot of the things I got were just really lucky thrift store finds and I wouldn’t recommend everything I did with my arrangement but I’ll give you the details of what it all is.

So the outfit was actually a purple mid-sleeve shirt and a blue turtleneck crop top under a purple sleeveless vest that zips up. Below that is just a high-waisted pleated skirt and white leggings. Again, all of this was mostly really lucky thrift store finds but I’d say if you can find either a vest/skirt of similar nature or maybe a long coat or dress with a unique collar, then I think you can pull off the same idea.

The hat, mask, wig and gloves were all things I got at a year round costume store. The mask is a just a basic superhero purple mask and the gloves are biker gloves. The wig is actually a Rockstar Wig because I like their quality but I understand if your preferences are different. The hat was actually a very specific witch hat called the Ophelia Witch hat by Rubies Costumes. I bought a red one and folded down the tip in triangles and sewed it together to make the fedora shape of the hat. Then I used Design Master Colortool Spray to make it purple since that stuff works pretty well with foam-like materials. Regardless, if you can’t or don’t want to do these exact things for the hat, I’d at least recommend any wide-brimmed witch hat and then fold up the tip.I know this is a lot but I hope this helps!

[lukes-writing]

Chapter 13: Man Without Imagination

Project introduction | Previous chapter

Word count: 3200 Warnings: Profanity

September 29th, 10:22 AM, The Society headquarters, Trinity Gate

“Who… who could have done something like this?” Whisper’s voice rises to falsetto again. Her whole body is trembling, and it’s not only out of disgust since it’s already some time after the autopsy she witnessed. Her empathy allows her to feel what the murdered man felt seconds before his demise.

She can’t stop imagining how horrible it must have been. The paper flowing into his head through his mouth, nose, ears, eyes… Did it hurt, or was it finished quickly?

All the necessary business with the dead man has been done and Team Dreamcatcher can once again gather in the conference room to discuss the matter. However, instead of discussing, everyone is recovering from what they just witnessed. For all of them, it’s the closest encounter with death so far.

There’s no need to blame them for that, Wiccan thinks. They are yet to build resistance towards such sights. But I hope they’re gonna build it quickly. They will need it.

“What now?” Parker brings up a question. “Should we, like, find out who did this? I don’t particularly feel like a detective. I’m used to being on the opposite side of the law.”

“That’s pretty much our task,” Kirlian replies, vesseled into the Obi-Wan action figure once again. “Find the culprit and prevent them from doing this again.”

“I don’t know who did it, but I’m not sure if I want to encounter them,” Gary says.

Parker sneers. “But that’s a part of the job, man. If ya scared, you can get the fuck outta here.”

For this once, Wiccan has to agree with Parker. Whisper and Gary certainly need to harden. But not too much - Whisper’s sensitivity and empathy can be actually beneficial.

“No way, I’m staying,” Gary says. He finished moving into his new house sponsored by The Society just a few days ago and he can finally live like he always wanted. He has more than enough space both for himself and his little friends. If keeping such a house means meeting some deranged being which kills using paper, Gary is ready to take the risk.

Wiccan looks at Sienna. “I have a small test for you. Try to figure out what should we do next.”

The young woman thinks about it for a while, sipping from a cup of coffee. Everyone has already come to the conclusion her caffeine income would probably kill any other person. Then, she finally speaks: “Well, since we know close to nothing about the attacker, all we can do is to find out more about the victim. I would go and talk to his family to possibly find out something about the attacker’s motives.”

“I knew I made a good decision by appointing you as a leader,” Wiccan smiles at her. Sienna blushes, flattered by the compliment.

“Should I go with you again?” she offers. “I doubt it would be a good idea to come there all at once.”

Wiccan nods. “Sure, only two people will go. However. First, we will do it tomorrow, so his family can have some time to reconcile with their loss. Second, it will be Ophelia, not me. And third, I want Whisper to go with her. Sorry, Sienna.”

Whisper opens her eyes wide. “Me…?”

“Yes, you. Sienna is good at analytical thinking, but you are better with people and their emotions. You can read between the lines. Maybe you will be able to find out something the others can’t see.”

“I… I won’t disappoint! I think,” the girl squeals.

September 30th, 1:30 PM, Northeast District, Trinity Gate

Whisper had met Ophelia Salisbury a few times before, after she married her uncle. Whisper immediately decided she likes her, even if just for the fact Wiccan would not marry anyone who doesn’t meet his strict standards.

The woman’s upright stance radiates strength and experience, but her dark eyes are nothing but kindness. Whisper only hates the fact she has to tilt her neck back to look Ophelia in the face since their height difference is significant. Whisper is the only one in her family who measures less than 170 centimeters.

“Remember, be courteous and tactful, but keep in mind you came for the information,” Ophelia lectures her. Whisper came to a conclusion both her skin color and her voice can be compared to a delicious hot chocolate. She’s dressed in a long black dress and a short jacket of the same color. Her hair has been tied into an elegant top knot which exposes the woman’s swan neck.

Even Whisper chose a more conservative attire consisting of a black-and-white blouse and long, pleated skirt. She’s also wearing a pair of white moccasin shoes, which definitely isn’t common for her, and she also left a big part of her excessive jewelry at home.

They finally arrive at the neat family house standing on a wide boulevard close to the Trinity Gate’s university. The rays of sunshine glow through the tops of several trees which grow in its garden. An old fox terrier sleeps in front of a dog house.

Ophelia rings on the doorbell inserted in the gate which leads to the garden surrounded by a short hedge. A buzzing sound that soon follows tells them someone opened the gate. The two women enter and before they reach the end of the gravel walkway, the main door opens.

As they expected, they see an older, slightly chubby woman dressed in all black standing in the doorway. Her eyes are swollen, giving away all the tears the woman cried in the past hours.

“Are you Arthur’s students?” she asks. She’s probably already used to the man’s students coming over to offer their condolences. “Thank you for…”

Ophelia interrupts her. “Actually, we do want to express our condolences, but in the first place, we want to find out what exactly caused your husband’s death.”

“They didn't even let me know what happened to him!” the woman wails. “Can you…?”

The woman shakes her head. “Not until we close the case.”

“So he was… someone did it to him?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it was a murder,” Ophelia confirms and the woman bursts into tears. She gestures them to come in and both Ophelia and Whisper take a seat in a spacey living room. Its modern furniture heavily contrasts with a wooden bookshelf which takes up a whole wall.

Whisper takes a look at the books displayed. The murder victim’s collection mostly consists of essays by famous philosophers and heavy encyclopedias. Not a single piece of fiction. Definitely not Whisper’s style.

Then, Whisper notices another person in the room. He had just descended from the stairs leading upstairs. It’s an overweight teenage boy with short fair hair, round face and eyeglasses resting on his small nose. He has Captain America’s shield on his T-shirt and he’s holding a can of energy drink in his hand.

He seems surprised by the fact there’s a young female in their house. In fact, he stands there like petrified. Whisper wonders if it’s because of her presence or the guy is just not over his father’s death yet.

“Hi,” Whisper gives him a compassionate smile.

“H...hey,” the boy stutters and Whisper sees countless unsaid questions in his green eyes.

At that moment, his mother and Ophelia step into the room. Ophelia managed to console the woman to the point her uncontrollable wailing changed into sobbing. A while later, they’re sitting around a glass table with a cup of tea in front of them.

Ophelia starts to carefully interrogate the woman to find out as much about the victim as possible. All they find out is that he was a university professor of philosophy and he lived a normal life. The woman’s answers are vague and don’t get them anywhere close to the solution.

Whisper notices that the boy, Arthur junior, doesn’t say a word throughout the whole conversation. However, the girl has a feeling he would give much more interesting answers if he decided to speak.

“Arthur?” Whisper addresses the boy. “Would you mind if we went for a walk? Just you and me?”

Arthur Taylor junior apparently feels extremely insecure when Whisper is around and the girl tries hard to hide her amusement. If she started to giggle, she would ruin her already slim chances to pry something useful out of the young man.

Whisper isn’t a paragon of beauty, but it’s enough to completely disconcert a boy who apparently never came this close to a woman before. A bit of confidence would help him a lot.

“You and your dad - were you close?” the girl asks as the duo walks through the university campus. A black flag flies above the main entrance to honor the deceased professor.

“Uhm… not really,” Art replies, avoiding eye contact with Whisper. “We were… different. Almost every talk we had ended in an argument, so we rarely talked to each other. Almost every day, he stayed at school until the evening and then, when he came home, he locked himself in his workroom and worked on the computer until the late night hours.”

“What was he doing?”

Art shrugs. “Writing articles for an association of skeptics he was a member of. He loved debunking apparently paranormal occurrences just to prove there’s nothing supernatural in this world. He was so annoying with this,” he rolls his eyes. “I know it’s probably bad to say this now, but he was the dullest guy I know.”

If he only knew what I know, Whisper thinks.

“So that was the reason why didn’t you two get along well?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Art inserts his hands into his pockets, looking at the pavement under his feet. “It was one of the reasons. Y’know, I’m that kind of geek who’s into fantasy and sci-fi, which dad loathed. He was strictly against all forms of imagination and as far as I know, he crammed this philosophy even into his students’ heads. There’s a story that one student once brought one of The Witcher books into his lesson and dad tore it apart page by page. That’s why I had to hide my books from him.”

Whisper hears a slight trace of relief in his voice, as if the sentence should have ended with I’m glad I don’t have to do it anymore.

“Do you think it can have a connection to his… murder?”

“Probably not, but I don't know,” Art shrugs again. “Yeah, we used to make fun of him, but I doubt anyone would actually go as far as killing him. Maybe he had some enemies among his colleagues, he never spoke about his work much. Actually, I know almost nothing about his life.”

Whisper raises her eyebrows. “Make fun of him?”

“Yeah. Me and some other geeks I know created a webpage called ‘The Man Without Imagination’. There we shared memes about him and such, one guy even made remixes of his lectures… y’know, dad was really passionate about things he preached. He knew about the page and he was furious about it, but he could do nothing against it. If he knew I’m the main contributor… damn, it would have consequences.”

“Are you going to take the page down?”

“Probably. I guess it would be disrespectful if we kept it running.”

“In that case,” Whisper says, “could you keep the page up at least until we solve the case? It may actually help us. I don’t know how, but just in case.”

“Sure, I’ll tell the guys,” Art looks her in the eyes for the first time. “By the way, who is we?”

Whisper smiles. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Art smirks back. “I’m open-minded. So who are you working for? FBI? Men in Black? Or some secret organization I have no idea about?”

“You’re close,” Whisper gives him a mysterious smile.

“Did you find out something interesting?” Whisper asks Ophelia on their way back to the headquarters.

The woman shakes her head. “That woman is hopeless. She was either crying or telling me stuff she already told me three times. I know it sounds insensitive, but if we continue like this, we won’t find the killer. What about you, Wisp? How was your date with Art?”

Whisper ignores Ophelia’s mocking and tells her about everything Art told her. Ophelia gives her an appreciative nod. Bringing Whisper with her was a good idea after all - Ophelia doubts the boy would be so open if she asked him instead of Whisper. A person is usually more talkative when around peers.

“Good job,” Ophelia says. “Sienna should take a look at that webpage. Honestly, it’s not much, but we have to start somewhere. Maybe someone with special powers visited the page and decided to show that man everything he believed in is a lie.”

“Kinda improbable, but I’m not the one to judge,” Whisper says. When both women left the house of Taylors, Whisper took off her shoes and decided to continue the walk barefoot. It’s no surprise for Ophelia - she already knows how peculiar is the niece of her husband.

Back at the headquarters, both women explain the situation to the rest of the team. Sienna immediately turns on the computer in the corner of the room and finds the webpage Art was talking about. It’s just like the boy described it - full of jokes about the late professor and his hatred toward anything fantastical.

The latest post involves a picture of an old man with a long white beard - a stereotypical depiction of God - with a caption: Professor Arthur Taylor died yesterday and he already managed to prove I don’t exist after I took him here.  Parker lets out a short laugh. No other member of the team finds it funny.

“The archive is pretty extensive,” Sienna states. “At least twenty people actively contributed to this page - I suppose his students. It has also many passive visitors and subscribers who just come to laugh at the memes.” She finds a video in the Most popular section.

“Professor Taylor about fantastical literature - Remix by BigBeast420,” Gary reads the name.

Sienna clicks the Play button. The video is recorded secretly and depicts professor Taylor speaking in front of his class. This time, it’s harder not to laugh since a repetitive musical background is playing over the video and Taylor’s voice is autotuned so it appears he’s rapping.

The group listens to what he says.

“You achieve nothing in life if you cling to nonsensical, unreal fantasies!” Taylor preaches, marching around the classroom and making theatrical hand gestures. “What’s the point of wasting time with something that’s not even real? I appeal to you, dear students, live for here and now, not for anything nonexistent! Only then you can lie on your deathbed in peace, knowing you spent your life in reality. Fiction is a drug and its authors are but dealers! And just like drugs, nonexistent… nonexistent can ruin your life!”

“Wow, that guy is really a lunatic,” Whisper comments. “Who else can say something like this about reading books? Now I understand why was he so ridiculed.”

Another video is titled Professor Taylor - These Two Eyes (BigBeast420 Remix). Out of curiosity, Sienna clicks on it. Taylor once again speaks in front of the students, this time apparently about skepticism. “Every sane person should only believe what they see with these two eyes!” Taylor points his index and middle finger at his eyes. Finally, electronic music starts playing and Taylor saying These two eyes is played in a loop, creating an impressive musical piece.

“One thing is to admit, that guy who did the remix had some talent,” Parker comments.

The video continues: “There is nothing supernatural or paranormal. That’s a domain of gullible people! Nobody with a working brain would believe in such things. Everything must have an explanation!” The word Explanation is once again looped and remixed.

“Is it bad that I’m starting to side with the killer?” Whisper asks.

Wiccan chuckles. “True, that guy is nuts, but we still have to find out who killed him and stop them. At least now we know he had controversial opinions which could have set certain people against him, especially those who are living proof his words aren’t true.”

“Or a bookworm who just went berserk,” Whisper adds. “If someone started to speak about books like this in front of me, I’d have no problem to cram all that paper into his skull.”

The team lets Sienna work her magic with the computer. Someone has to constantly refill the cup on Sienna’s table with something rich in caffeine.

“That seems to be useless,” Sienna says after about an hour. “I was able to retrieve the IP addresses of the people who are logged on this page, but there are too many entries and that renders it useless. Some even use anonymizers such as VPN networks or the TOR browser. It could be any of them, or neither.”

A moment later, Ophelia enters the room with a phone on her ear. She finishes the call she was having and inserts the device back into her pocket.

“I just finished talking with ELIPSA headquarters,” she announces. When she sees the confused faces of the four new recruits, she explains: “Entries and Locations of Individuals Possessing Special Abilities. That’s an agency serving under The Society. Their task is to keep an eye on all people who display special powers or talents that could be useful for us.”

“In short, the fuckers who followed me everywhere I went and whose files you used to blackmail me?” Parker looks at Wiccan.

The man doesn’t let himself get disconcerted. “Precisely,” he replies with a straight face. Then he turns to his wife. “What did they say?”

Ophelia answers the question with a telling shrug. “The only registered PSPs in the Trinity Gate area are Parker, Whisper and Gary,” she says. “They have no information about any other person of such kind.”

“Maybe they just did a good job at avoiding their attention,” Gary suggests.

Wiccan shakes his head. “It’s hella hard to avoid ELIPSA’s attention. Once you display any form of supernatural abilities, you have a target on your back and you can’t get rid of it. A PSP not registered within ELIPSA’s archives would have to live in complete seclusion, hidden from everyone and everything.”

“But then, this sounds like a description of someone who would commit a murder,” Parker notes.

“So, to sum it up,” Sienna says, “we’re looking for a person with supernatural powers who lives in complete loneliness, yet must have some kind of internet connection or another link to the outside world since they seem to have taken revenge on Professor Taylor.”

“Seems about right,” Wiccan nods. “Unfortunately, that also probably rules out the possibility that the murderer is one of Taylor’s students. A university student who would display any trace of a supernatural ability would be immediately tracked by ELIPSA.”

“That means we’re back at the beginning,” Parker sums it up.

“That’s right,” Wiccan sighs. “We have clues, but nothing that could help us piece them together. And we should work pretty damn fast before the killer claims another victim.”

At that time, they have no idea this resolution can’t be fulfilled.

 Author’s Note

I wholeheartedly thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you did, please leave a comment, send me a message or share and let more people know about this story! You can also consider a small donation at www.paypal.me/lukassladky. Have a great day and stay tuned for the next chapter!

[pocheonhq]

⸽⸽⸽⚘ACCEPTED! ༝･一⋱⋱KIM HANEUL just made it into town ! you’ve got six hours to get  back across the river before things start to get weird around here. meet you at town hall !  [ park jihyo & lee taeyong ]

༻park jihyo. 24. cisfem. she/her. ˃ OPHELIA SHIN. mermaid. waitress at underworld. scorpio. + cunning, daring. - foolhardy, stubborn. • cracking open a cold soda on a hot day, pink pleated skirts, 2am hair changes, fresh nude lipgloss, stick & poke tattoos. ( ty. 18+. cst. ) 

༻lee taeyong. 24. cismale. he/him. ˃ ZEPHYR STEWART-LEE (adopted). warlock. caregiver at creature connection. aries. + gregarious, frank. - pragmatic, deceitful. • dark academia, sleepless nights in the rain, sepia filters, double shot espressos, hounds tooth. ( ty. 18+. cst. )

[debsartblog]

ID: A digital illustration of two characters, both in different art styles. The figure on the left has scene-inspired hair coloured chartreuse, black and stripy red, yellow eyes with slit pupils, and two earrings in their right ear. They are wearing a chartreuse crop top with fishnet sleeves under a black short black jacket trimmed with the same colour as the shirt with skull buttons and short cuffed sleeves. They are also wearing long, stripy chartreuse fingerless gloves and black trousers decorated with chartreuse paint splatters, held up by a chartreuse belt with a skull buckle. Their skin is pale.

The figure on the right has green and pink hair, half held up in a ponytail by a lilac scrunchie. Her eyes match the colour of her hair and she is wearing oversized purple sunglasses on her head, one star earring and a bandage on her cheek. Her outfit is made up of a blueish purple crop top with the words “GREAT DAYS” written across it, partially obscured by her hand. Coloured bands on the sleeves and bottom of the shirt display difficult to make out text. She wears pink and green fingerless gloves, each with the inverted pallette of the other, and has bandages wrapped around a portion of her right arm. There is a star-shaped belly bar over her belly button. She has a short pleated skirt the same colour as her shirt, with two overlapping belts in pink and green, each reading “OPHELIA”. She also has pink and green thigh-high socks. Her skin is dark. 

Both characters are doing the poses of, and have outfits inspired by, Rohan Kishibe and Yukako Yamagishi from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable, more specifically from a frame of its third opening, Great Days. End ID.

This is a collab between me and @pastelicious-nova​! It’s been in the works for a while (mostly because I’m allergic to actually finishing drawings). It’s of two of our OCs, her Ophelia and my Canson. 

[noctepythonissam]

[Bio Info]

Name:

Luane Lopez del Castillo

Aliases:

Lua (by Lygia)

Sis (by Luciana)

Lu (by Bella)

Auntie Lulu (by Catarina)

Ophelia Dolores (Pen Name )

Lunar Order (pseudonym as a witch)

Birthday:

February 12th

Age:

25

Sign:

Aquarius

Race:

Human

Gender:

Female

Appearance:

Luane in some physical features is no different from Solange: The same golden eyes, pale skin and some facial features, but softer and gentler making her be compared to a muse. She has short wavy hair, her bangs braided to the left side and two strands dyed green, besides being the tallest of all the sisters, being 179 cm tall.

Commonly wearing a blouse with hollow shoulders with social and adorned with a black collar and a black bow tie in addition to other black details and a green pleated skirt in emerald green next to a pair of light beige sandals. In her reading moments or when she is working on her literary works or poetry or in her moments of studying magic she is commonly seen wearing round glasses.

Personality:

Luane conducts herself in a composed manner. She is one of the loveliest Castillo and also sensitive, insightful and generally the voice of reason among the quintuplets until she conflicts with her insecurities about Solange.

Her insecurities are due since childhood to the fact that many family members favored the oldest of the quintuplets who had natural talents while Luane failed miserably in her learning as a user of magic. This makes her feel nothing but a shadow of Solange, just like the stars who name her.

Even with her insecurities Luane loves it or better, she has an insatiable thirst for knowledge, which is evident by the overcrowded collection of books that covers various topics and appreciates the classic and popular arts. Part of this is how to show her commitment and persistence and years of trial and error to receive due merit even if she do not have natural talent.

In addition, she is very fond of animals, defending well-being and pampering them with toys (her favorite animal is cats). She also loves dramas of all kinds, especially detective ones. As a fan of them, she also showed great ability to analyze the situation. Endowed with a high I.Q her skills are comparable to those of a criminal expert and her deductions are generally never wrong. When she is really angry, she can seem severe and unforgiving.

Luane almost constantly hungry she has a voracious appetite capable of rivaling the Avatar of Gluttony and is also a glutton when it comes to sweets (especially macarons) and likes to enjoy them with tea, always participating in afternoon tea as way to enjoy a moment of peace. She considers this moment sacred and does not like to be interrupted in her delight, which makes her sulky if it happens without reasonable justification and is frighteningly violent and unforgiving when she goes into a rampage for some fool to eat her sweets without her permission.

Likes:

Books, dance, cats, sweets, poetry

Dislikes:

Share her sweets

[Biography]

Luane is the fourth oldest daughter of the Castillo family and the second oldest of the quintuplets. She being the complete opposite of her older sister, Luane was born with an affinity for magic White Magic and Order Magic, however, devoid of great magical talents and with difficulties in controlling more basic techniques.

Growing up under the demands and criticism of older members and assisting her older sister with favoritism, Luane had to make up for her lack of talent with a lot of persistence and hard work by earning the deserved (and still frustrating) position as the third best user of magic main family.

Her magic affinity for White Magic comes from the purest sources of energy giving her the ability to help others by healing the individual's mind, body and / or soul. Luane tends to focus on helping others, purifying evil spirits, undoing curses, creating medical potions and respecting all rules about what is prohibited and what is not.

Regarding her Order Magic, Luane is able to manipulate and undo all the damaging effects and changes caused by Solange's Chaos Magic, regardless of what they are and restoring the natural balance. However, in respect of the natural order Luane limited herself to only to healing people and restoring objects that have suffered damage, etc., as long as these were caused by the powers of her older twin sister.

Although her powers are based on order, harmony and purity and the environment of demand and favoritism, the source of all her magic is surprisingly the sin of gluttony that also improves her physical abilities with magic.

Like her sisters she was under the tutelage of some gods of Greek mythology, these being: Mnemosyne goddess of memory and the gods of various attributes Hermes and Apollo. The three gods helped her reach the peak of her powers, but she never failed to be humble and respectful to her mentors. Of all the sisters, she was the only one who shared with Lygia the fact that she was under the tutelage of the same god (Apollo).

Of all the gods who were her tutors, she was closest to Apollo who practically took Luane and Lygia as daughters and being the closest father figure that the young witches had and to Hermes who took on the role of older brother teaching them several of his gifts and who likes to play tricks on the human while Mnemosyne was the maternal figure in her life.

Luane cooperates with Stephanie to try to keep the family together and also to hide the Castillo in the modern world, for this she opened a chain of cafeterias in the Cat Café style to also rescue stray cats or victims of abuse and where she exposes her work as writer and poet under the pseudonym of writer Ophelia Dolores never relating publicly to her "character".

[Personal information]

Family:

Mother (deceased)

Father (deceased)

Cleo (older half sister)

Stephanie (older sister)

Luane (younger twin sister)

Lygia (younger twin sister)

Luciana (younger twin sister)

Bella (younger twin sister)

Catarina (niece)

Others:

Miriel (family housekeeper)

Hermes (tutor)

Mnemosyne (tutor, maternal figure)

Apollo (tutor, father figure)

Kiyomi (best friend)

Trivia

She and the quintuplets did not have a relationship with their parents, because her mother died in childbirth and her father was murdered by an envious rival;

Although she does not have many talents related to magic and under the influence of Apollo's tutelage, Luane became adept with a bow and arrow;

She also practices ballroom dancing, Latin dancing and knows some wrestling moves;

Kiyomi's best friend is Apolo's biological daughter, born out of the god's relationship with a Tennyo;

Despite being a glutton that rivals the Avatar of Gluttony and she is constantly hungry and a large intake of food, Luane has a much healthier physique than expected thanks to her love for dance and her wresteling practices;

Due to the influence of sin that is the source of her magic, there is a negative effect on her that causes an eating disorder that was named by Hermes "Limos" in reference to the entity that represents hunger in Greek mythology;

“Limos” is the state in which she is obsessively in relation to a particular sweet, leading her to an irrational state and increasing her physical strength compared to that of Beelzebub;

While she is in this state, she will destroy everything in her path (including her own sisters) only calms down once her desires are satisfied and does not retain any memory of her actions during her rampage.

[tinymute]

FUN FACTS NOBODY ASKED FOR

Juliette was originally made as part of a group roleplay on Tumblr. 

Her name, Juliette Ophelia St. James was made to see how obnoxious and mary-sue a name I could give her before the people running said RP would reject my profile.

Juliette originally was supposed to be a key in getting me and @sexybrute​ banned from the group.

Julie and Jesse’s incestuous, abusive relationship was supposed to get people to recoil and be disgusted.

Instead, people LOVED it and SHIPPED IT. Yikes.

Juliette originally was supposed to be younger than Jesse, or be his twin, but there were no spots in the RP for that.

Juliette originally was a bitchy, nasty rich girl who only had eyes for her brother and was borderline abusive to her sister.

I accidentally fell in love with writing her.

Originally, Juliette’s style was strictly a mix of 1950′s swing dresses and short, pleated skirts with thigh highs.  

Julie had a crush in that RP who called her Tinkerbell that promptly left said RP.

I retconned a great deal of Juliette’s life. Her original, bare-bones story is still there from the original, but her father is no longer involved in an Irish mob, her story arch with her mother and her aunt is different, and she no longer has a second sister. 

Juliette was originally 5′2″. Happens. Now she’s 5′0″.

Originally, Juliette did not self harm, and used contractions (I’m, we’re, you’re) in her speech, but I ended up editing it to suit her style and her upbringing more.

I’ve been writing Juliette for over a year now!

[mollyingramart]

To continue this experimentation into Millais' Ophelia, I have been recreating my interpretation of the dress she is wearing in the photo. I have been making flowers out of ribbon and scrap fabric which I will attach onto the garment so it looks as if the flowers have fallen but also similar to the painting.

I wasn't completely happy with the sleeves previously as they had a slight purple hue and were made from quite a stuff organza fabric so didn't sit nicely and flow like I wanted. Once finding this fabric (in photo), I used a sleeve pattern to cut out sleeves and then gathered/pleated these at the top so that there is a slightly pre raphaelite oversized sleeve element. I also decided this fabric would make an effective layer over this original skirt, so I removed previous flowers ready to attach that and pleat it in the same way as the under skirt.

I also think this will give a light, flowing effect which would emulate the stream and water in the painting.

[duneshq]

CONGRATS !  enjoy your stay,  ophelia mendoza.  danna paola is now taken. please submit your account within 24 hours or you will unfortunately be reopened.

☼  danna paola. 23. female. she/her.  |  did you see ophelia mendoza this morning, heading out to the beach? they’re a front desk clerk at opal dunes. if i remember correctly, they’re a aries and they remind me of pleated mini skirts, cigarettes at dawn, and blue raspberry , probably because they’re bold and forgetful.  (  amelia, 20, mdt, she/her.  )