#the folly

[ode-2-joy]

hey girl, are you (be cool and edgy) a gun (but not too edgy!) because you're pretty (great job, you've fucked this up already no going back) and i want you in my mouth? (say something british now, that never fails) tally-ho!

[thequeendomhq]

NAME. Gulizar Amulius AGE & BIRTH DATE. 31 & April 19th, 2993 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/her NATIONALITY. Lysaran SPECIES. Witch FACTION. Tower of Olympia OCCUPATION. Emissary FACE CLAIM. Neslihan Atägul

biography

Nothing felt warmer than a mother’s love. At least, that’s what her older sister always told her. Gulizar Amulius was born to nobles of Northreach, in a bustling town just south of the border they shared with the Deadlands. Their estate was an idyllic sanctuary for some, and a prison for others. Guli’s oldest sister, Mayri, was the favored child, naturally, for she was expected to take over the estate one day when her mother passed. Her youngest sister, Yildiz, was the second favorite, the precious baby of the family who could do no wrong, despite having no talent. Where did Guli fall? In the middle - unnoticed, unseen, and uncared for. Little did anyone know, being in the middle could be a powerful position, in the right places.

Their mother was already so busy running their business and estate, she hardly had time for one child, let alone three. Guli was left to be raised by nannies and maids, fated to interact with her mother only at the dinner table, if she was in a good mood. Her mother’s on and off again “boyfriends” were usually greedy, selfish, and always wanted to “get to know her”. That meant something different to each ofthem. Her sisters did little to help, but Guli understood, begrudgingly. They were just trying to please a woman who was impossible to satiate. They would be sucking up to her until the day they died. Or the day their mother died. Whichever came first...

Of course, the least favorite daughter displayed signs of magical power. A witch in the family was just another reason for the other nobles to gossip behind their back, her mother said. Money made the world go round, not magic, she said. Guli was already despised simply for being born, and now, she had to have this cursed magic in her veins, too? She plotted to run away from home more times than she could count, but the Tower took care of that for her one day.

When she was 17, an Agent of Minerva arrived to take her to Gulizar new home, and she never looked back. Not a single tear was shed, nor a single moment spent feeling homesick. The Tower nurtured her. They told her she was special, and they meant it. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had a purpose.

Gulizar naturally gravitated towards magic of the mind, fascinated with the way other people worked. Deep down, perhaps she wanted to understand how some people were so cruel like her mother, yet so successful and well-liked by the public. She honed her skills, learning to read minds, uncover truths, and wield secrets more dangerous than any fireball she could conjure. She would give anything for the tour, and everything is exactly what she gave.

Her passion and ambition were soon rewarded with a set of passed trials, and the honor of becoming an Olympian. Now an Agent of Minerva, she was tasked with traveling to neighboring nations, and collecting information to aid in the liberation of witches held in Iskaldrik and Astoria. She was part of small bands of agents sent out to free them and sneak them back to the capital under the veil of night and magical darkness. She spent a decade traveling across the borders, assessing threats, and neutralizing them to serve the Tower. She built connections amongst the freed witches, building connections and respect amongst her kin. She’d built her own family.

After a decade of service, she was promoted to a higher position, that of Emissary. She was to be a representative of the Tower, continuing to travel across the nation and others to spread their protective reached. Once a scout, she now had Agents under her command. They fed her information of impending war and attacks, which she was expected to share with the Tower to assist in subsequently neutralizing them. Yet, she received a missive – reports of an orc tribe wandering dangerously close to the North to the northern border of her home. Her decision on what to do should have been obvious, should have been instant. She should have informed her superior, who should have sent Agents and Warriors of Mars to the border. Northreach should have been given word, so they would have time to prepare for the attack. Yet, her first thoughts were of her mother, and they weren’t of pleasant type. Wouldn’t it be so convenient, for her mother to fall victim to such a vicious attack? She would be taken care of, at last, without Guli having to lift a finger.

The thought weighed on her for several hours, as several cups of wine were poured down her throat in hope they would make the decision for her. An incessant spiral of vengeful, shameful, abhorrent thoughts sent her into a stupor, each one darker than the last. Before the dark clouded over her vision, putting her to sleep, Guli managed one last act. She crumpled up the missive and hurled it into the fire. She might as well have written dozens of names on the back to cast in with in, for she had sealed their fate, too.

Her mother was indeed slain the following evening, when her town was taken by surprise. Dozens of other innocent civilians fell alongside her. Guli had cared little for the consequences of her actions when she drank herself closer and closer to manslaughter, but they hit her like a ton of bricks as news of their deaths shook the capital. The outrage was plastered across newspaper across town, and rumors of it spread like wildfire throughout the tower. Soon, another missive came her way – this one, from her sister.

The funeral was to be held in three days’ time. So much death would have been avoided if she’d just done the right thing immediately in the first place. She would have made it home just in time if she’d left the instant she opened the letter, too. And yet, she stayed. A second letter came a week later. A somber gathering to both honor the civilians lost and acknowledge her sister’s ascent into power. And yet, she stayed.

She belonged here, in the Tower. Her past life meant so little to her now, as she traveled the path she’d so carefully carved out for herself. She nearly tossed it all away alongside that slip of paper, but she was an Agent of Minerva, an expert in deceit, which she wielded to shield her fate. A... mercenary, of sorts, was contracted to take care of the scout who sent the missive. A flower basket and a note was sent home to apologize for her absence, for the Tower was oh-so busy now-a-days with the influx of refugees and the threat of Aetherians looming over the land. They’d trained her to keep secrets, after all, and she was going to keep this one to the grave.

personality

+ Ambitious, Commanding, Independent – Blunt, Secretive, Lonely

played by kara. est. She/her.

[dozydawn]

[1five1two]

Folly in La Garenne Lemot, France.

[marcellreign]

despite all the fuckery-

i have decided to maintain a state of bliss

wish me luck folks

[jonathanpongratz]

New Book Release: The Folly by Gemma Amor

    Blurb: From Bram Stoker and British Fantasy Award nominated author Gemma Amor comes an atmospheric gothic mystery that will haunt you long after the final page is turned.   Morgan always knew her father, Owen, never murdered her mother, and has spent the last six years campaigning for his release from prison. Finally he is set free, but they can no longer live in the house that was last…

[ramburger]

Phone doodles

[seafairyyuri]

might aswell post folly here too!!

[fenteii]

one chance !! (I'd fumble so bad) [she wouldn't want me]

[liriostigre]

Paul Auster, The Brooklyn Follies

[alphavivi26]

do you ever feel like you’re being watched?

[thequeendomhq]

THE FOLLY ~

NAME. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. UTP SPECIES. Witch FACTION. Tower of Olympia OCCUPATION. Emissary

Daughter of Northreach, child of rivers. You remember a youth of grapevines, fruit groves, and luxury. The orchards beyond your family’s estate stretched as far as the eye could see, cascaded in shafts of gold as the peaceful air of twilight fell across your shoulders. Your mother told you and your sisters that there would always be danger in the Deadlands to the North. While she was the elder and you were the younger, magic flourished in your veins, and there was none in hers. The Tower would someday call to you, and it was there that you could fill your rampant imagination with the true stories of this world. The histories that ran as deep as the silver veins of the west or ran as wide as the shimmering seas to the east. In your childhood’s hour, this blissful, peaceful fantasy of the world was the true face of things. Accepted in the Tower, your mother fell to a raid that came down from the mountains of the Deadlands; you knew they were dangerous, she’d told you. You knew what horrors were held in the hearts of Orcs and Trolls; you’d read them all individually. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to go when they called you home. Instead, you stayed. Instead, you worked as your elder sister, Lady Amulius, came into her power. There was a time when you recounted the two of you as thick as thieves; you’d feel the hair your mother braided to match and know that the two of you were threads of the pattern woven together. Agent of Minerva, when you went home, no kind eyes were waiting for you, just a cold stare and a question: Why didn’t you come home when she called?

CONNECTS

N/A

NOTES

Agent of Minerva.

this skeleton is currently open

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Photographed by Martin Schoeller for The New Yorker in 2002:

 "I was hired by the New Yorker in 2002 to photograph Robin Williams, and after doing my research what stood out most for me was that he was a very physical comedian. I came up with this idea to photograph him swinging from a chandelier in a grand hotel room. Most publicists shoot down these kinds of wild ideas, so I didn't tell anyone what I was up to, but rigged up a chandelier at the Waldorf Astoria hotel for him to swing from. When Robin got there and saw what was happening, he lifted up his shirt and showed me this enormous scar on his shoulder. He'd just had surgery and couldn't so much as lift his arm. He was so disappointed! He really felt bad about not being able to do it, because he loved the idea and really wanted to help me accomplish my vision. 

Unlike most Hollywood stars, he was unfazed by his success and position. He talked to everyone from stylists to the crew, to the hotel staff. We ended up asking a maid at the hotel to swing from the chandelier instead, and I asked him to just sit there and read a newspaper, which I think in the end was an even funnier, more unexpected picture.

[Follies Of God]

[sketchywasteland]

regretevator chars in my style :]

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

She just wanted to be fun and whimsical :((

[ambivfunroom]

Couldn't resist making them do a regretful groove 🪩

oh no the gif looks crunchy crunch!