#solemn lament angela

[autisticayin]

ruina reqs

[tarobii]

honkai star rail x project moon

I had a thought and I had to bring it to fruition

[okawarihappylife]

rereadinf the asiyah realization dialogue and wow i forgot how painful they are.

bringing this specific one because the way she explicitly said “her soul” brought me into insane levels of grief

[roboyomo]

SOLEMN LAMENT ADAM. and tiny solemn lament angela :3

practising a slightly different artstyle and i think its looking nice already (im sorry adamheads i dont have much stuff of him finished atm so have the sketch i made,,)

[cephalowaaa]

solemn lament angela…she cute af

also i can’t draw butterfly wing details RIP

[mmmmmmky]

Live Blogging Walpurgis Night (spoilers)

what is the L corp not cut in half????? there are two walls in the halls????????????? anyways

this is neat, dante canon choosing ids and faust telling them what they should use bc she is curious, silly. Also dante canonically have all the walpurgis IDs lmao. I think i have them all??? except ryoshu and the red shoes rodya.

silly, also kindaa interesting as he is the onlyyy id without a walpurgis thing hmhmhmmhmmhmmmm. roland heathcliff is coming actually, we just got red mist ryoshu.

hmhmhmhmmh keeping up with the ideas and things from the warp train. Probably building up to somethingggg, faust being more down to earth maybe and with the sinners and such?

I love them so muchhhh, sinclair is such a fella. I might keep it more condensed from here and only say when i have something big to say but nahhhh its my post on my blog. I will ramble away.

it is a lot to screenshot though. but hmhmhmm they are dissing my guyyyy yesoddd

lmaooooooo

:(:(:(:(:(:(:(:(:(:(::(:(:(:(:(:(:(::(:(:(:(:( geez rip my guy danm :(:(:(:(:(:(:(:(

honestlyyyy fairrr this is early lob corp too before we get many missions done and such probably and no suppression

raghhhhhh ueueueueueue sobbing yeah. it is very interesting to see commentary on the lob corp gang from a healthier work environment (which is saying something with it is the limbus company) but yeahhhhhhhhh mm mmm mm.

girlie lmaooo to busy reading the lore and story it is ordeal time. hmmmmmmm this is interestinggg way doing of violet ordeals, a lot more fitting and flows more though (POST KAY ah okay i see)(imagine below is part of post kay)

ok but like PLEASEEEEE CMONNNN IT WILL BE SO FUNNNN. i wonder if this hints at something like that later, we are for sure going to be doing big things by next walpurgis holy fuckkkkk solemn lament yi sang is fun to play omgggg WHATTTTTTT

HI HOD HI HOSD HI HOD HIIIIIII HI HODDDDDDDD :D omg hod :> it is veryyy interestinggggg how we can talk to hod, i wonder if we will see more, esperailly if they ramp up, i am really thinging we could meet x or angela even maybeee later as things ramp upp.

pewpew, also woahhhh she sees us??? hi hodddd!

hmhmhmhmm middle layer up already?? also hmmm they are ampules, i see, probably was explained before but neat

pfft

woah woah woah woah woahhhhhh hmmmmm damge types explained in limbus will be neat, especially pale damage wink wink nudge nudge (hi chai!! if you are reading!) this alll is really cool how deep into lob corp we are goin

seperate post for SL Sang uptie story probably but i am doing here before i do noon ordeal also fixed announcers is neat

i love her. also woah silly ui

easiest walpurgis yet i think idk, all the missions in one go except for 6+ neg status effects

it was really cool and interesting though, neat

[worldsmostangela]

>Semifinals - Match 2

["I thought at least one of them would give me the answer that I seek. The path I should take. The way to be free. But possibilities were only possibilities."] ["Where does one go when they die? What has become of the hope they were brimmed over with when they entered?"]

[trainingdummyrabbit]

i don’t have an image but opinions on solemn lament angela

GOD. adore this one so fucking much. ok,

Design- PEAK FUCKING GENDER. i am always Always a sucker for designs that really Commit to monochrome and she is KILLING IT. also the filigree Kills. honestly a lot of my bias from her kinda comes from th fact that she reminds me of another character i adore to death too (beretta forgotenindigo iwould kill for you.) i.. literally dont think i have to say anything other than 'dude fucking look at her. what the fuck.' funeral is just a sick fucking design in general and she takes that and Runs. kill girl kill.

Theme- GOD. once again, funeral just kinda slaps in general, and she is no exception. it certainly links with her deeply, in her struggle against being compelled to harm others, but from what i recall she mostly seems rooted in funeral's base concept, rather than twisting it any further than that. even still, god does reading through her stuff Hit. equal parts one who mourns and one who delivers those to their ends. solemn, but decisive. its a Very good throughline. (the added push of the inability to express outside of this framing is also very . shakes fist.) also her mechanics are fucking Brutal man. but thats probably more on funeral than it is on her.

in conclusion: Dude Just Look At Her. without argument one of the coolest designs, and probably one of my top favorites for a hot minute. girl i would Kill for that outfit. sorry that happened tho or whatever

[mossy-green-aka-ferrythem]

Just fully realized The Floor of Technological Sciences. Ngl, though the emotional impact here is super strong, I felt a bit of that taken away by the hell that is That Funeral and That Marksman.

But now I'm thankful for everything. Not only because The Funeral of the Dead Butterflies sealed Angela's only speed die in the last phase, allowing me to "help" her out more easily, but also because of how Angela genuinely is growing as a character. She is starting to realize more and more who she is and what she wants. I already do love her as a character and feel incredibly sad for what she was forced to go through, which I'm just gonna say it, I absolutely fucking LOVE how Library of Ruina re-contextualizes Lobotomy Corporation's story by giving a glimpse of what it was like from Angela's view. I already thought she was justified in making her beautiful, imperfect decision to create The Library, but the amount of characterization she's given and how they just paint her as this person that just... God it's so so much to take in and I may short circuit if I try to put all my thoughts in just one post.

Also, I'm very glad that now I get to wield the EGO of all the Abnormalities of this floor. I'm not going to be the only one shedding tears from the Solemn Lament now... huehuehuehue...

[smokewars]

spoilers for ruina btw. i didnt realise this until a few days ago when i was talking to my friend abt this but there r people out there who have only watched cutscenes of ruina and therefore only know about the first 'distortion' for each floor realisation. there are people out there who don't know about solemn lament angela. gold rush roland (and the beta version of that in the artbook). paradise lost. fucking ozma

[chisie12]

Dance of Silver - Chapter 8: Signs of Life

Sorry it took so long! Real life got in the way D:  AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17142107/chapters/42895709 ~*~*~

Drifting… drifting. Weightless and free. Quite like a feather, actually. He half thought that it would be dark, like really, really dark, probably similar to Hell. He’ll admit he ain’t no saint, and have probably done some pretty shit things in his life, especially back when he was in a gang in the States.

Jesse McCree shook his head with a grin and folded his arms over and behind his head. One ankle was resting against his propped up knee.

It honestly felt surreal to him, but hey, he wasn’t going to complain. The place didn’t look like no Heaven either, despite being basked in a near ethereal glow of golden-tinged whiteness. Other than that, there was nothing around him; Literally just him, floating like an aimless feather in a white space. And he had lost track of the time too.

Days? Had it been days? It didn’t feel that long though…

“But am I in Heaven or Hell?” he mused out loud.

There were no visible injuries on his body, not a single gunshot wound or cut can be seen — and he’d already strip himself of his clothes to inspect every inch of his body. Old faint pale scars had remained on the places that they were originally at, across his torso, arms, legs and even with a twist of the waist and a stretch of his arms, he could feel the raised bumps of the scars that marred his back. They were all there. Even…

Jesse lightly traced the scar by the side of his neck, calloused fingers tracing them up and down absentmindedly. His mouth parted slightly with light even breaths as his eyes glazed over. He remembered that day so clearly. Underneath the epidermis tissue was a thin linear scar of roughly a centimeter wide and half a ruler long, and if you looked closely enough, on the tanned skin and hidden beneath the scar were puncture wounds, the perfect size and width of an adult vampire’s two top canines tearing and sinking deep into his veins. A little lower was the other half of the vampire’s jaw, which made up the perfect picture of a vampire’s bite.

His hand dropped onto his lap — now clothed — like a lifeless cowboy doll slumping against the wall. A bitter smile curved while the memory resurfaced.

Sis… I miss you.

“Ahhhh!” A sharp pain stabbed his mind when the memory reached the point of the vampire’s bite and he screamed out in agony. It came like lightning shocking his nerves.

———

The blue construction tarpaulin crunched and struggled under the sudden gusts of wintry winds. The duct tape and masking tape held it as securely as it could under the pressure, protecting the contents like a dragon protecting its treasures. That room was neat and tidy, carpets vacuumed, sheets crisp and flat, and the wardrobe door firmly shut — provided you ignored the destruction that clearly took place. Weblike cracks crawled across the walls in the dim lighting, floorboards were broken with splinters protruding, bullet holes riddled the room’s structure like hidden flies, and of course, the most prominent one: the massive hole in the roof that spanned from the window by the bed all the way to the highest point on the ceiling. Thus, the existence of that blue tarpaulin and duct tape.

A heavy feeling settled on the young woman’s shoulders. The pressure weighed down on her mind and soul. Memories resurfaced in her mind and her heart began to ache. Silently. Wordlessly. She took a small step back, her movements light and she pulled her arm towards her. Only the creaking of the door to her bedroom resounded as it clicked shut before her.

More silence. A heavy, uncomfortable, suffocating silence. Shadows casted over her sullen gaze. The cool hardwood tickled her forehead as a curtain of darkness fell, engulfing her sight. Refreshing and a handle on reality. This was all real. Everything did happen.

And now it passed. It was all gone — he was…

“Angie? Do y-you…” Altherr’s solemn voice drifted over. Deep and hushed, choking with an emotion hidden amidst the words.

Angela bit her bottom lip and clutched harder onto the door handle, squeezing the metal hard until her knuckles turned white and muscles numbed from the strain. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut tighter. Gone. Just —

“Mm.” She forced herself to nod and move away from her bedroom, dragging her feet and returning back to the medical room downstairs. She stopped a few inches before the viewing glass, her vision already having gone blurry before she even stepped foot down the stairs. Steady beats of the machines echoed in her mind, the various wires hooked the unconscious young man up to the respective devices, but the heartbeats were slowing down. Slower than before, slower than it should have been.

Altherr and Wendell stood a few meters away from her with matching solemn expressions, but hidden in their gazes were a trace of guilt.

“She should know…” Wendell mumbled under his breath, audible enough only for his father to hear.

Altherr resolutely shook his head with a frown. The creases on his face seemed more prominent and his appearance grew dull from all the stress. “No, she can’t know.”

Today was just the beginning of the sixth day since Jesse McCree fell into a comatose state, as the dawn began to break through the horizon. Despite rushing with all her might, Angela managed to only arrive home after nearly 35 hours and even then, she was greeted with a still Jesse, unmoving like a statue. If not for the slow rise and fall of his chest, she would have thought him dead.

But he had been — even if for less than a minute.

The sudden high pitched shrill of a flat line echoed loudly in the silent house, scaring both Zieglers awake from their sleepiness. Machines cried out in horror at the loss of life and Altherr remembered, oh so vividly, how helpless and weak he felt as he watched alone of his son trying to resuscitate his step-grandson who fell into cardiac arrest with the defibrillator. His heart jumped harder and harder, directly out of his chest with every shock Wendell gave the young boy, the motion choking him painfully to the point of gasping for air.

It was only after the third shock did a pulse return, like a small leap over the flatlands, bringing about an arc of new found hope.

But as Angela ‘Zurich Monster’ returned and watched her brother sleep — yes sleep, he was sleeping —, she watched his heartbeat, and the ache in her heart grew. She wished she could watch him laugh that bellyful chortle, smile that toothy grin full of cheekiness, coo and pat any canines that come their way — no matter if they’d snap and growl at him; they were all babies to him—, and perhaps, what she missed most, needed , most, was his hug.

A sharp breath and a slow, deep shuddering exhale. Fingers curled and scratched against the glass. Warm liquid began to pool in her eyes.

At least, he was alive?

Beep beep! Beep beep!

Beeeeeeeeee —

Angela’s head shot up at the warning indicators, gasping in shock. The ringing cry of the flatlined heartbeat echoed in her head and a surge of adrenaline pumped through her veins. Unsteady hands scrambled to pull the door open. She faintly felt another presence and the rustling of the machine behind her. Muscle memory served its purpose as she quickly sanitised herself and donned the gown, hat, and gloves despite the tears clouding her vision. She worked quick and efficient with her father, shuffling towards one end of the bed as he occupied the other, and she confirmed Jesse’s lack of pulse. Next to him stood the resuscitation machine. A familiar process, Wendell lamented as his hands moved swiftly: squeezing the conductive gel, rubbing the paddles together, and placing them on Jesse’s chest. Angela stepped back.

“Clear!”

Her eyes twitched involuntarily at the administered shock as his body jerked upwards before falling back down. Despairing blue eyes gazed at the motionless young man, the tinkering of the machine the only sound in the room.

“Step back.”

Angela obeyed obediently and stepped back just as the paddles hovered above Jesse’s chest, when the body started convulsing. It violently rattled against the bed, his mouth gaping open like a dead fish as Wendell abandoned the paddles to hold him still, but despite his wiry body, he could not properly hold the young man down. Panic filled the room as Angela struggled to help but to no avail. The door slid open as a robust man entered, easily holding Jesse down with his arms.

“What happened?” Worry and anxiety were clearly visible on the aged face.

Wendell opened his mouth to answer, yet no words came out. Uncertainty glazed in his eyes. Jesse clearly flatlined. He was supposed to be dead and the dead were not supposed to move.

“Jesse… Jesse…” Angela cried softly.

“Ahhhhh!” A scream tore through their ears like the shattering of glass. The hair on their arms and neck stood straight up, chilling shivers running down their spine. Jesse roared another monstrous scream and threw everyone off with a wave of his arms. Crashes sounded as their bodies slammed into the equipment and machines. Angela squeezed her eyes at the sharp stinging sensation on her arm, the blood seeping through the teal coloured gown. She returned her attention back to Jesse who constantly screamed, this time filled with agony and pain, as he clawed at his neck. Red scratches marked his tanned skin, veins began to bulge and crawl up to his face, and she felt some sort of heat emitting off his body.

And for reasons unbeknownst to her, the Angelic blood coursing through her veins began to pulse. She turned to her father and grandfather, and their gazes conveyed a confusion similar to hers.

Vampire?

Yet, there shouldn’t be one. Patrols have begun and security was tightened. No vampire should be able to —

All three of them looked back at Jesse.

It can’t be.

But when Angela staggered towards Jesse, his head sharply snapped towards her with bared fangs. Elongated, curved, fangs. What caught her full attention, however, were neither the fact he was moving and alive, but the pair of bright crimson eyes the shade of blood.

“How —!”

No one knew who cried out first or who made the first move, but the Zieglers were already jumping towards their weapons and dodging the newborn. Jesse McCree, the vampire hunter: a newborn vampire. Angela lunged to the side as she unholstered her blaster and a loud crash impacted behind her, yet ignoring the pain from the machines and wall, Jesse snarled at his sister and leapt towards her once again. His gaze followed the streak of blood that trailed the air, her sweet, oh so delicious blood that filled his senses. He needed it, he wanted it. With a hand palming the floor, she rolled forward following the momentum, barely escaping the claws Jesse swiped at her back.

“Oof!”

A large figure tackled Jesse to the side, crashing into the metal frames of the medical bed and the duo began to wrestle. Altherr sat all his weight and force down onto Jesse’s hips while he fought to subdue his step-grandson, but the young man was snarling and fighting back with a strength he never had before. Sweat started to bead from the old man’s pores, the adrenaline and heavy emotions rolling out in waves. Even the room seemed hot, and hotter when he was close to Jesse. The newborn seemed to be emitted an intense heat.

But no one understood why; Just why?

Altherr shot his palm to meet Jesse’s claws, holding on tightly as he tried to push him down with his other arm when the sweat from his palm made him lose his grip — and he slipped. With that split second window of opportunity, Jesse snapped his head forward and headbutted Altherr, the force hard enough to knock him into a complete daze. His vision was spinning and blur, a heavy throb thumping in his temples.

“Jesse!!”

Jesse halted in midaction, the voice seemingly effective. He didn’t lower his claws, the sharp nails inches away from tearing apart the skin on Altherr’s neck, but he turned his head ever so slowly towards the source. There she was, leaned back against the cold wall with her blaster aimed at him. Her arms were slack and breathing heavy. His nose twitched at the metallic yet sweet scent of her blood, but he sniffed the slightest traces of saltiness as well.

“Jesse… Oh, J-Jesse…”

Her voice was quivering, her body shaking, and like the soul leaving his body, Jesse froze, staring at the thick streams of tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. He breathed in sharply, only to have it hitch in his throat when a searing pain burned inside him, through his veins and in his blood. It burned like the flames of a wildfire, burning every inch in his pores, but it burned the worst by his neck, to the point a red, blistering blemish appeared. He clawed at the pain, the sharp fingernails slicing apart the skin like a knife to butter and blood unceasingly flowed. With a cry, he shoved Altherr away and jumped towards Angela.

It hurts! IT HURTS! SHE HURT ME!

BLOOD! I NEED HER BLOOD!

“Angie!” Wendell ran and pulled his daughter away just as Jesse crashed onto the wall. He had zero experience whatsoever in the field, having only focused on medicine and healing, but he’ll be damned if he lost his daughter too!

“Daddy! Let me go!”

Yet, for reasons unknown again, Angela was compelled to him, attracted like a moth to a flame. Her Angelic blood still pulsed with the usual warnings of a vampire’s presence, but at the same time, it felt like Jesse was calling out to her, to her blood. Because not once, never, had she encountered a newborn like this. They were always cold, detached, but Jesse was fiery, a literal hot mess, and he responded. He responded to her voice.

“I can’t! Jesse’s not himself! You know that!”

Altherr groaned in pain as the headache and dizziness relented, crashing harder at the muffled shouts in his ears. He knew his back was hurt; There was a sharp dull pain in his spine that shocked him like lightning when he moved. He breathed in. His head slumped forward.

“Shit — DAD!”

Angela felt her father’s grip disappearing and she rejoiced as she was about to leap towards Jesse, but his shout caught her attention.

A heavy lump in her throat. She forcefully gulped it down as the tears fell harder. Without second thoughts, throwing her worries for Jesse aside, Angela fell before her grandfather instead.

“Please, please. Please!”

She dropped her blaster as she pulled out the staff from her back, immediately activating. Her blood flowed faster, rushing towards the beckoning of the staff as the healing light shone. It enveloped her grandfather. Wendell gritted his teeth, hating the feeling of helplessness and uselessness that eroded his soul. Looking at his father, then at a writhing Jesse, he made a resolve and got to his feet. Not much he could do then and now, except for one thing —

Running towards the cabinets of medicine, he tore open the plastic seal that secured it and shuffled through the glass bottles. There was the clinking of glass as he pushed them aside, frantically searching for the one — His face lit up in joy as his slender fingers grabbed hold of a clear bottle. On its label read ‘Propofol’. Bending down, he grabbed a couple of new sterilised syringes and tore one open from its vacuumed plastic, immediately inserting it into the bottle as his thumb pulled the plunger back. He watched as the liquid was sucked in and once it reached 10ml, he rushed towards Jesse and unhesitatingly plunged the needle into his neck before pushing all the liquid into his vein. Jesse’s screams slowly dimmed in a decrescendo, but it wasn’t enough.

Waving his arm at Wendell, the doctor was thrown aside and crashed into the fallen bed. His body slumped over.

Seeing the scene, Angela’s mouth gaped open. Her lips quivered, the tears slowing but not stopping.

Jesse, you…

Unwilling to believe, she staggered towards her brother who was wailing in pain. Even the anesthesia provided little relief, but when he caught wind of Angela’s blood, he snapped towards her, and just like before, she paused at the sight of those bright glowing eyes.

Genji.

His scarred face and green hair popped into her mind. Why? Perhaps because… Jesse still retained some resemblance of actually being human, and… Genji did too?

Hovering above him, Angela reached out a hand, slowly, just very slowly. The wound on her arm ran down the length and dripped from her fingertips. Pit. Pat. Drop by drop, they landed on the tiled floor. Jesse remained unmoving. He returned her gaze, the craziness dimming in the presence of her gentle, tear-stained one. She bent her knees, dropping to his side, a simple arm’s length away, and she continued reaching out. Her fingertips lightly brushed against his 5 o’clock shadow. Then, they landed on the side of his neck, right above the blistering area, above the scar of the vampire bite; from when he was fifteen.

In that instance, Jesse let out a scream. This time, louder and even more ear piercing than before. Her blood traveled through his wounds on the neck, soaking and disappearing through his veins.

The burn came back ten times worse.

His throat was dry, so goddamn dry, and his screaming began to grow hoarse, husky. As if struck by lightning, Angela grabbed his wrist and holding his finger still, she resolutely used it to cut at her arm. Her blood instantly escaped its confines. Jesse snarled at her when she forcefully gripped at his jaws, but with ignorance, she raised her bleeding arm over his neck, watching it flow into his wound.

“Aaaahhhh! I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

Jesse thrashed about when the pain intensified and Angela hurriedly sat atop him and kneed his solar plexus, settling all her weight on him. Jesse screamed louder to the point of shattering her eardrums when it was muffled. Angela’s other arm that had been gripping his jaws was now stuffed between his fangs. Biting down mercilessly, Jesse felt the puncture of her skin beneath his canines and he felt the utter satisfaction of blood coating the pearly whites. They slid down his tongue and further into his throat.

The pleasure was enough to ignore the burns.

However, when the blood that flowed in his mouth reached his stomach, he began to convulse and scream. Such a monstrous, agonising scream. He flung Angela away, hurtling her through the glass viewing panels and slamming onto the opposite wall. She gasped out a mouthful of blood. Her body dropped lifelessly onto the floor.

The only sign of life that remained: Jesse McCree.

[investmart007]

BURLINGTON | Guess who's coming to Windsor? Royal ceremony weds cultures

New Post has been published on https://is.gd/BSa77R

BURLINGTON | Guess who's coming to Windsor? Royal ceremony weds cultures

BURLINGTON, New Jersey (AP) — With a gospel choir, black cellist and bishop, Oprah, Serena and Idris Elba in the audience and an African-American mother-of-the-bride, Saturday’s wedding of Prince Harry to American actress Meghan Markle was a blend of the solemn and the soulful.

Guess who’s coming to Windsor?

The ceremony married the pomp and circumstance of Britain’s most sacred institution with elements of black culture, drawing viewers not normally drawn to the spectacle of the monarchy.

“This was black history,” said Joy Widgeon, who attended a house party in Burlington, New Jersey, with her 6- and 8-year-old daughters in tow. “African-Americans were front and center at the royal wedding. This was the first time, and hopefully it won’t be the last. I am here for it.”

Race has loomed over the couple’s relationship from the beginning. After the pair went public in 2016, Harry lashed out in a public statement at what he described as “racial undertones” in media coverage and overt racism toward his then-girlfriend, who has lamented such views. At the announcement of their engagement last fall, many black women around the world cheered the news as a fairytale that doesn’t always include them.

Markle, 36, became the first black member of the British royal family in modern history. Her mother, Doria Ragland, is black.

A diverse group of about 20 — mostly black women — gathered before dawn on the rainy Saturday at a house party in Burlington, New Jersey. They were among the scores of African-Americans and British Americans participating in the global event in person, at home and online.

Decorated with a banner reading “Congratulations Harry and Meghan!,” with the bride’s biography on a nearby table and glasses of tea and mimosas and the smell of breakfast cooking in the background, the guests gathered in two rooms.

“We were keen to see who was going to look like us,” said socialite David Alexander Jenkins, who has ridden horses in the same Windsor countryside where the wedding was held.

As Markle emerged from the burgundy Rolls Royce that brought her to St. George’s Chapel, Paula Jackson gasped with approval.

“Oh, she looks lovely! Gorgeous! Beautiful!” Jackson exclaimed, wearing a jeweled blazer and sparkling tiara, sitting on a couch with a spot marked on a note in capital letters: RESERVED FOR THE QUEEN.

“I’m just so happy for her,” Jackson said of Markle. “She will be an example for our young African-American women.”

The couple also asked Presiding Bishop Michael Curry to participate in the ceremony. Elected the first African-American to his role in the Episcopal Church in 2015, Curry is based in Chicago. His theology, rooted in social justice, was on full display Saturday, as he invoked the words of the Rev. Martin Luther King in his lengthy address to the couple and audience.

For Angelita Byrd, the moment reminded her of being in church with her grandmother.

“He brought a little bit of Southern Baptist America to Europe,” said Byrd, of Philadelphia. “You know what I love about all of this? She’s adding a little spice to the royal family.”

The bride personally called to invite 19-year-old cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason, who is black, to play at the wedding after Prince Harry saw him perform at a London event supporting an Antiguan charity. The diverse, Christian gospel group Kingdom Choir performed a stirring rendition of Ben E. King’s “Stand By Me.”

Church hats — a shared tradition in black and British culture — were a fashion highlight. And Markle’s dress, designed by Givenchy, was reminiscent of the dress Princess Angela of Liechtentein wore when she wed Prince Maximillian in their groundbreaking January 2000 ceremony.

Sanya Brown, already a fan of the royals who watched Princess Diana’s funeral, as well as Prince William’s wedding to Kate Middleton, initially planned to watch alone in her pajamas, but made a last-minute decision this week to watch with a girlfriend at her house in the west Philadelphia suburb of Wynnefield.

“In the time of the ‘black girl magic’ moment we are currently living in … for this black girl from Los Angeles to be marrying into the royal family is a really dope and historic moment, so why not have that with someone and celebrate her magic?” she explained. “We’ve seen (Harry), but never like this,” Brown said. “This is different. She is different.”

By ERRIN HAINES WHACK , By Associated Press – published on STL.News by St. Louis Media, LLC(R.A)

[worldsmostangela]

--Aaand Time! It's been a long ride, but finals have finally wrapped up! It's been some really close matches-- and some pretty surprising outcomes-- but it looks like we can finally answer the world's most burning question...

Everyone say thank you to our dear Solemn Lament for their efforts-- and give a loud applause for our very own Miss Director for pulling through to the final leg of the race! 🎉 I sure am glad there's absolutely no other Angelas to contend w-- OH SHIT!!!

And here comes the Floor of General Works with the Steel Chair!!! One more little push, just for a little fun: here comes the Lightning Rounds! Five polls over five days, to really put our girl to the test! The outcome? We'll Certainly Find Out! See you all in an hour, and Get Ready! ✨

[worldsmostangela]

Worlds Most Angela: FINALS!

["...Now I understand what you lot meant when you wished you could be there to see the fruit of your labors."] ["Grief for the dead, and early lament for the living… The fragile wings will keep fluttering, waiting for an end that must exist somewhere."]

[worldsmostangela]

>Round 3 - Match 4

["I wouldn't have to feel this heartache, had I not made the offer that day and lived by myself. I want this to be your final and permanent slumber."] ["A single coffin to pay tribute to those who had nowhere to go, wandering with the memory of an empty faith."]

[roboyomo]

adam in angela's solemn lament outfit from ruina,,,, do you see my vision

pleasetell me you do i think he would've ate in it