#the moika times

[porcelain-gal]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀vel / moika (any / all) ◦ 16, black, queer afab ◦ (perma)shifter + submaker

this is a 13+ blog that is mainly about shifting, manifestation, and my personal interests such as anime/manga, games, agere/petre, furries, vtubers, and other things! i talk a lot about my own drs, sometimes provide shifting script templates and resources (things to script, scenarios, etc.) and i also make subliminals!

note: i curse and use foul language a lot, i make nsfw jokes at times, i vent and rant sometimes but i do tag it, i use kaomojis and tonetags often, and i am dx with anxiety and lowkey self-dx w/ autism (i'm still doing my research and stuff.)

dni crit: basic dni, under 13 (only for following!) read this, fatphobic/make big back jokes and you're not fat (take your ass on somewhere.) furry anti/hater. ddlg/ageplay mfs. trump supporters, bigots, incels, and any other mfs who scream "woke" at everything. you purposely misuse aave. ai art users/supporters. you dislike / are against yumeshipping. we have nothing in common / you dislike my interests.

carrd .. twt/X .. youtube .. alt tumblr .. all links

[loiladadiani]

Irina Alexandrovna Romanova (1895 -1970)

When Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich married Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna (sister of the then Tsarevich Nicholas Alexandrovich), he was marrying one of the best matches in Europe: Xenia was the daughter of the Tzar Alexander III and the sister of the future Tzar Nicholas II. She had been in love with "Sandro," her second cousin, since childhood (and he saw no reason to discourage her affections, of course)

Sandro and Xenia had seven children. Irina was their first child and only daughter. This beautiful, quiet, delicate child was the first grandchild of Alexander III (who died the year before she was born) and would be the only biological niece of Tzar Nicholas II.

During the first few years of their respective marriages, the Tzar and Empress Alexandra and Grand Duke Alexander and Grand Duchess Xenia spent a lot of time together, and their daughters Olga and Tatiana, and Irina being very close in age, spent a lot of time together and developed a relationship. Distance would later grow between the couples and the children.

By the time Xenia was pregnant with her seventh child, her marriage to Sandro had gone sour. Sandro had fallen in love with a French/Spanish woman and was having an affair with her. Subsequently, Xenia started an affair of her own. Some sources say that they managed to keep their marital problems from their children; others that their quarrels might have had something to do with Irina's decision to marry Prince Felix Yusupov when he asked.

Felix was handsome, extremely smart, and one of the richest men in Russia, but he had a reputation. Irina accepted him as a bridegroom regardless of her parents' misgivings. Felix had a wild youth which seemed to include affairs with men and women. He enjoyed dressing as a woman and wearing his mother's jewels; apparently, he even caught Edward VII's eye at some point. When the Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna talked with him about this behavior before his marriage to Irina, he did not deny it. Still, he said that his wild days were over, and he was very much in love with Irina.

Irina had no qualms about signing away succession rights for their future progeny when she married Felix, who was not royal (their marriage was morganatic.) She married him wearing a veil that had belonged to Marie Antoinette. Both looked beautiful. Their wedding was the last grand happening (1000 guests) before the Great War.

Felix and Irina were out of Russia when WWI started and had difficulty passing through Germany to return to Russia.

The Yusupovs settled in a section of Felix's parents' Moika Palace. Felix and Irina had one daughter (whom they named Irina but called "Bebe") and helped the war effort in Russia by opening two hospitals and a sanatorium in their Crimean state of Koreiz.

Felix would go on to kill Rasputin (he was banished to Koreiz by the Tzar) in a misguided effort to help the dynasty survive. As things in Russia became worse. A group of members of the Imperial Family, including the Dowager Empress, Irina's parents and brothers, and several Grand Dukes and their families, avoided being imprisoned and murdered by seeking shelter in Crimea. The Russians held them, prisoner until the Treaty of Brest-Livtosk was signed. Interestingly enough, the Germans liberated them. They left Russia in a warship sent by England to rescue the Dowager Empress.

They lived in an apartment Felix had in London; they had also smuggled out paintings and jewelry. There was a car they had not used in years waiting in a garage in Paris. The couple was extremely generous to the Russian Community and gave a lot to the exiles in need. They eventually bought a mansion in Paris and opened a couture house in Paris, which was very successful for a few years.

Felix and Irina lead an expensive lifestyle, and their couture business went bankrupt (after significant success.) By 1934, as luck would have it, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer released a film named "Rasputin and the Empress." Felix sued the company for slandering Irina and won the lawsuit. He also released two books which did very well.

After this, the coupled lived a quiet life (for them), supporting young artists and attending various functions of the Russian emigre community.

Irina remained close to all her relatives and helped them whenever she could. Her father, Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich, died in her arms.

Felix's and Irina's marriage turned out to be a great success. They were married and lived together, supporting and caring for each other for over fifty years. When Felix died in 1967, Irina was grief-stricken. She died three years later.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

So vampires can make people mysteriously disappear, right? (pretend there's a relevant meta linked here.) What unsolved mysteries do you think were actually vampires per Twilight?

Rasputin

Well, there's always the obvious Grigori Rasputin the man who just wouldn't die.

Rasputin was murdered during the early morning on 30 December [O.S. 17 December] 1916 at the home of Felix Yusupov. He died of three gunshot wounds, one of which was a close-range shot to his forehead. Little is certain about his death beyond this, and the circumstances of his death have been the subject of considerable speculation. According to historian Douglas Smith, "what really happened at the Yusupov home on 17 December will never be known".[86] The story that Yusupov recounted in his memoirs, however, has become the most frequently told version of events.[87]

Rasputin's corpse on the ground with a bullet wound visible in his forehead

Yusupov said he invited Rasputin to his home shortly after midnight and ushered him into the basement. Yusupov offered Rasputin tea and cakes which had been laced with cyanide. Rasputin initially refused the cakes but then began to eat them and, to Yusupov's surprise, appeared unaffected by the poison.[88] Rasputin then asked for some Madeira wine (which had also been poisoned) and drank three glasses, but still showed no sign of distress. At around 2:30 am, Yusupov excused himself to go upstairs, where his fellow conspirators were waiting. He took a revolver from Dmitry Pavlovich, then returned to the basement and told Rasputin that he'd "better look at the crucifix and say a prayer", referring to a crucifix in the room, then shot him once in the chest. The conspirators then drove to Rasputin's apartment, with Sukhotin wearing Rasputin's coat and hat in an attempt to make it look as though Rasputin had returned home that night.[89] Upon returning to the Moika Palace, Yusupov went back to the basement to ensure that Rasputin was dead.[90] Suddenly, Rasputin leaped up and attacked Yusupov, who freed himself with some effort and fled upstairs. Rasputin followed Yusupov into the palace's courtyard, where he was shot by Purishkevich. He collapsed into a snowbank. The conspirators then wrapped his body in cloth, drove it to the Petrovsky Bridge, and dropped it into the Malaya Nevka River.[91]

- Wikipedia

In the Twilight world, although Rasputin was eventually shot to death, the whole ordeal is one that screams supernatural in some manner. His hijinks are also something that Twilight vampires seem to enjoy getting into (see Boris, the vampire who turned Laurent, a fake Russian noble hanging out in Versailles, or else George, the sewer dwelling conman who pretends to be Astaroth).

Jeanne D'Arc

Fully human, definitely gifted, stupidly gifted.

Aro is crying that he didn't make it in time for when she was arrested in Rouen and is still upset about it.

You've got any, @therealvinelle?

[miffy-junot]

Felix Yusupov on the October Revolution and his escape from it

I left that same evening for St. Petersburg. The day after I arrived, the Provisional Government collapsed and the Bolshevik party, with Lenin and Trotsky at its head, assumed power. Indescribable confusion reigned in the capital; bands of soldiers and sailors broke into people's houses, pillaging and murdering. The town was in the hands of a frenzied, bloodthirsty populace, eager for destruction. Those were days and nights of terror and anguish. One evening I witnessed a horrible scene from my window: a group of sailors had fallen on an old general; they were kicking him and had half-stunned him with the butts of their rifles. The wretched man dragged himself along the ground whimpering piteously. To my horror, I saw the blood streaming from two gaping holes in his swollen face, where his eyes had once been.

Many friends, and even strangers, took refuge at the Moika [Palace], thinking they would be safer there. It was quite a problem to house and feed them all. One day a detachment of soldiers came to occupy the house. I showed them over it, and tried to make them understand that it was more fitted to be a museum than a barracks. They went away without pressing their point, but obviously meaning to come back. A few days later, on leaving my room I stumbled over the bodies of some soldiers sleeping, fully armed, on the marble floor. An officer came up to me and said that he had been ordered to guard my house. I did not like this at all; it meant that the Bolsheviks considered me a sympathizer, which was a compliment I did not appreciate in the least. I decided to leave immediately for the Crimea. That same evening a young officer whom I knew, and who commanded our district, came to see me with a stranger in civilian clothes. They told me I was to leave St. Petersburg at once, and suggested that I should accompany them to Kyiv. They handed me some faked identity papers which they had brought for me, saying they would call for me and take me to the station. As this fell in with my own plans, I thought it best to obey what seemed more like an order than a piece of advice. As a matter of fact, I felt quite excited by the adventure. What could their intentions be? I wondered what awaited me. As I got into the car with them, I noticed that a great red cross bad been painted on the front of our house.

The train was crammed; people, as usual, sat on the tops of the coaches, the windows of which were all broken and the blinds torn down. To my great surprise I was led to a private compartment, apparently reserved for us, which was then locked, and we spent a peaceful and comfortable night. At Kyiv, the hotels were full. The officer invited me to stay with him but I was not anxious to accept his hospitality. However, the only alternative was sleeping in the streets, so we got into a cab and drove off. I suddenly saw a friend of mine, Princess Gagarin, coming out of one of the houses. She recognized me and waved to me. I stopped the cab and asked my companion to wait while I went to speak to her. She seemed surprised to see me. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "And how have you managed to find a room?" "I wish I knew myself what I was doing here," I answered, "and I have got a room, but I am not very happy about it." She then offered to put me up, and I eagerly accepted. The next day I heard that the telegraph was still working, so I set out for the post-office to send my family a wire; they had been without news of me for some time and must have been anxious. But this proved no easy matter. Conditions were as bad as in St. Petersburg. There was a lot of firing going on in the streets, and one ran the risk of being bit by a stray bullet. Occasionally sporadic outbursts of machine-gun fire swept the pavements. I got to the post-office as best I could, dodging around corners, hiding in doorways, and lying flat on my stomach each time the firing came nearer. My hostess was appalled to see me return with my clothes all torn, my face and hands covered with mud.

My friend the officer came to see me a few days later, and told me that his house had been destroyed by a bomb the night before. He owed his life to the fact that, quite by chance, he had not slept there. One morning, glancing through the newspaper, I saw that the police were on the track of a well-known criminal. I suddenly realized that my fake papers were made out in his name. I immediately got in touch with the officer, who produced a second set of papers with the greatest of ease. At the end of a week I told him that I had no intention of staying in Kyiv indefinitely. I had nothing to do there, and meant to join my family in the Crimea; but, before that, I wanted to go back to St. Petersburg and pick up the valuables I had left there when I came away in a hurry. This did not seem to suit the officer at all. However, he promised to let me know when it would be possible for us to go; he seemed determined not, to part company with me. Two days later, he came back: "Be ready to leave tomorrow." He called for me the next day, accompanied by his mysterious acolyte. At the station in St. Petersburg, I bought a newspaper and read: "Prince Yusupov has been arrested and imprisoned in the Fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul." I handed the paper to my companions. "Are you sure of your servants?" asked the officer. "Absolutely sure." "In that case, go home and don't move until you hear from me. Don't see a soul and don't answer the telephone. I hope to be able to get you off to the Crimea very soon." I turned up my collar and set out for the Moika. When I arrived I found my servants in tears. They had read of my arrest in the papers and were overjoyed to see me. In spite of the advice I had been given, I did see a few trusted friends. A few days later, still accompanied by my guardian angels, I left for the Crimea. Again a compartment had been booked for us and everything went smoothly. My efforts to get an explanation from my mysterious companions were all in vain: they met all my questions with blank silence. They both got out at Baktchisarai and I have never seen them since. I found out later on that they were both Freemasons and were apparently acting on instructions issued by their Order. In any case, whatever their motives were, I feel I owe them a deep debt of gratitude.

source: Lost Splendour by Felix Yusupov, chapter 26

[theterribletenno]

Rasputin the Occultist Warframe

I was hoping I could come up with something just a little more creative and involved than Rasputin ended up being but I'm not unhappy with him. I feel that his core gameplay loop is solid and none of his abilities are duration dependent so he can have synergy with corrupted mods! Even range is optional for all but his first ability, so you can do a very corrupted build. Maybe he can still find a place in everyone's heart as a new god-tier spam nuke. Rapsutin is obtained from The Fragmented bosses of Effervo, Deimos. Each of his three component blueprints is dropped by one of the three fragmented; The Fragmented Suzerain drops Rasputin's neuroptics blueprint, The Fragmented Anchorite drops his chassis, and The Fragmented Zelator drops his systems. Rasputin's core blueprint is purchased from Bird3 for 10,000 Cavia standing. Oh, and one last thing; Rasputin looks like a corrupted and warframe-ified version of Loid. Slender build, flowing tailcoat so long its faded tatters drag on the floor behind him, adorned in humble and solemn shades of gray, dull gold and pale bronze, with portions of what was once his skin replaced by the circular patterns of Entrati Obols. A dark reflection and profane parody of Loid's gentlemanly beauty in a cursed mirror.

Health: 270 (370 at rank 30) Shields: 200 (300 at rank 30) Armor: 300 Energy: 200 (300 at rank 30) Sprint Speed: 1.15

Passive: Rapsutin has two passive abilities: Alchemic Cycle and Divine Humors. Alchemic Cycle: The damage dealt by Rasputin's damaging abilities changes every time he casts them, following a predetermined cycle. The cycle goes from cold, to electric, to heat, to toxic, and back to cold. The element held in the Alchemic Cycle at the start of a new mission is determined by his primary emission color: red and orange for heat, yellow and green for toxic, blue and purple for electric, and shades of black white and gray for cold. Divine Humors: Every enemy is assigned one of the four primary elements - cold, electric, heat, or toxin - and is marked by a colored aura that corresponds to that element as well as its icon above their heads. Only Rasputin can see these marks and benefit from them. Each enemy takes 20% bonus damage from the primary element they are marked with and 10% bonus damage from the secondary elements derived from it.

Ability 1: Tobolsk's Serpent, 25 energy. Rasputin releases a coiled serpent of occult energy which leaps from foe to foe, inflicting damage and status. The serpent targets the enemy nearest Rasputin's crosshairs within a 30 degree angle and 30 meters, dealing 750+X (where X is equal to the enemy's level times 5) damage of the current Alchemic Cycle element with 100% status chance, and then jumps to a random enemy within 15 meters of its last target dealing the same damage again, jumping up to 3 times. When jumping Tobolsk's Serpent will prioritize enemies whose Divine Humors mark matches the element it was cast in. Each instance of Tobolsk's Serpent cannot hit the same enemy more than once. If Rasputin casts Tobolsk's Serpent again within 5 seconds of its last cast he will launch two energy serpents instead of one at no extra cost.

Ability 2: Archimandrite Spear, 50 energy. With a brief channeling animation Rasputin summons up a great well of occult elemental power and fires it as a one meter wide beam centered perfectly on his crosshairs with infinite punch-through against bodies. The beam deals 1,000+X damage on contact and an additional 500+X (where X is equal to the enemy's level times 5) damage of the current Alchemic Cycle element in a 6 meter radius around each enemy it hits. Both beam contact and radial explosion have their own 100% status chance as well as a guaranteed stagger.

Ability 3: Gates of Moika, Toggled ability, does not cost energy to toggle or while active until triggered. Gates of Moika has two effects once unlocked, one active and one passive. Passively, while Rasputin is at full health he regenerates +3 energy per second regardless of whether the ability is toggled on or off. While Gates of Moika is toggled on Rasputin gains the ability to cheat death at the cost of 50% of his current energy, requiring a minimum of 25 energy to trigger. Ability efficiency mods reduce the percent of energy consumed but not the minimum energy requirement. When Rasputin's health is reduced to zero he is healed for 50% of his max health and 100% of his max shields and becomes invulnerable to damage for 6 seconds. This effect has neither a cooldown nor an activation limit so long as Rasputin has at least 25 energy.

Ability 4: Judged in the Emperor's Sight, 100 energy. Channeling void power into his eyes the defiled saint Rasputin enhances the Divine Humors bonus damage effect from 20% to 100% for the primary element and from 10% to 50% for the derived secondary elements on all enemies in Rasputin's line of sight reaching up to 75 meters. Enemies killed with damage of the Divine Humors element they are marked with while under the effects of Judged in the Emperor's Sight will be resurrected as avatars of that element with 200% of their original health and dealing 200% of their original damage as pure elemental damage of the element they represent. The effects of Judged in the Emperor's Sight last up to 20 seconds or are lost if Rasputin breaks line of sight with the enemy. Elemental avatars lose health equal to 5% of their max health every second and last until their health reaches zero.

Subsumed ability: Tobolsk's Serpent (Damage type does not cycle and is locked to the element chosen by the warframe's primary emission color)

Signature Weapon Nevka: Rasputin's signature sidearm, a revolver pistol. Nevka has above average crit and status chance at the cost of only average damage and rate of fire for a revolver-style pistol. Deals roughly even values of impact, puncture, and slash. The Nevka boasts high accuracy and 25% extra bonus to headshot damage. As Rasputin's signature weapon headshots with the Nevka deal an additional 25% bonus damage of the element currently held by Alchemic Cycle which does not combine with other elements.

Closing Notes: The Tobolsk cathedral was one of the sites Rasputin made holy pilgrimages to. Archimandrite is an upper rank of the Eastern Orthodox Church in addition to sounding similar to the Warframe title of Archimedean. Gates of Moika is named after the Moika Palace, where Rasputin was assassinated. The Nevka river is where Rasputin's body was dumped after being shot multiple times. There is residual debate over whether Rasputin was dead before being thrown in the river or if his final cause of death was drowning. The Nevka is a revolver because that was the type of gun Rasputin was shot with when he was assassinated.

[leonardoeatscarrots]

Ancient post but I just saw it today when going though the tag rip

Uhhh, honestly, I deeply dislike it. To me, it's very suspicious. It just doesn't add up in my book.

For one, I feel like it would have been mentioned by Felix himself. Though, on the other hand, I can certainly see why he wouldn't.

But also, I feel like if the British Secret Intelligence service was involved, it's kind of odd how unprofessionally the assassination was carried out. The whole set-up felt to me as an outsider, rather personal and amateur.

My stance on the poison is still up in the air, I don't believe I can actually make any hard claims with the knowledge I currently have. But I do find it odd that the cellar in the Moika would be furnished, especially with a bearskin rug of all things, had their initial plan been to shoot him. Not to mention the extended time of the murder.

I do not believe the British Secret Service was involved. Members, perhaps, but not any official orders from the agency.

This, of course, is no professional court ruling or anything, and I'm subject to personal bias and misinformation. This is just my personal take on the events. Though I am open to suggestions and heavily encourage anyone with counter evidence or contrasting theories.

What do y'all think of the theory that the British secret service was involved in Rasputin's murder?

Like the agent Oswald Rayner admitted to his cousin he was involved, translated Yusupov's first book and burned all his papers before he died. The other agent Stephen Alley was literally born in Yusupov's palace as his father was Yusupov's tutor.

It's definitely very sus. At least I'm 100% sure the attempted cyanide poisoning was made up for an entertaining story, it's just too unrealistic soap opera drama lol. And there was no cyanide found in the autopsy.

[grandlineocs]

🎃 ONE PIECE OC THRILLER BARK HALLS 🎃

IT’S A MONSTER (zombie) MASH!

Look at all of our OCs having the time of their unlife in our Haunted Mansion! Who said the dead have to rest in peace? Let’s party!!

The full panorama for ThrillerbarkHalls is linked on our carrd in our gallery! A big Thank You to everyone who took part — we are absolutely floored by the massive turnout and super creative zombies! We hope you enjoyed your stay in our Haunted Mansion 👻

For closeups, please check out the artist’s individual images in the tag #grandlineocs and in our highlight. Support and comment to give them a little spirit— Yohoho, skull joke!! 👻

[ ARTISTS AND OCS ON THIS POST ] 👻

1st SECTION

TOP ROW

@saltyowlets - Oliver

@sammixmusic - Sunset

@mangasia_art - April

@faestorian - Prim

MIDDLE ROW

@vissionkid - Evan

@ncrowan_ - Rylee

@snugglefloofles - Kurou

@tinylua_art - Nixie

BOTTOM ROW

@sau.rate - Sunshine

@ladytrsharon - Canele

@angelicvangelynn - Rose

@salxcami - Camille

@portgas.d.yume - Yume

@masteralicee - Quelia

@aelli.in - Lilith

@iddvartx - Marino

@klexenia - Lana

2nd SECTION

TOP ROW

@underlock8key - Serena

@thewill.o.wisps - Adriann

@queen.moriachii - Mai

@soldalyte - Toshiko

MIDDLE ROW

@nash0_2 - Esmeé

@quynhi22art - Lan

@chaoussu.art - Becca

@shaidrowo - Minnie

@ze_pineapple - Nelly

@mina_oc_stuff - Ruby

@8mizu5 - Saori

@warlordwispie - Beres

BOTTOM ROW

@vertis_art - Jamal

@joustrash - Zarek

@rai.shiromugiwara - Gwen

@kairiri_arts - Kairi

@rika.volan - Rika

@monogirl626 - Rose

@ayora_pics - Elizabeth

3rd SECTION

TOP ROW

@marimo.draws - Amai

@___napoo___ - Sam

@dachong__ - Akane

@cidsinart - Ammon

@raspberricitrinee - Celaeno

MIDDLE ROW

@mura_sima_art - Mage

@fakedhearts - Kikoku

@spartanpeyton - Damor

@esttian.art - Elliot

@nioumidraw - Rob Chronox

BOTTOM ROW

@asianfighterart - Tahlia

@moonlight_manami - Manami

@pastelakuma - Iris

@Ayane_Kawasaki_ - Okyoto

@dragonshardtales101 - Faythe

@serana_d_avery - Serana

@buggiipie - Moika

@oneerdbeerpiece - Lea

◈ credits: Sketch and layout by @klexenia, full background and poses by @joudoodles, with adjustments by @vertis_art. Compilation done by @asianfighterart and @klexenia ♥

[books0977]

Portrait of Princess Zinaida Yusupova (c.1900-1902). Valentin Serov (Russian, 1865-1911). Oil on canvas. Russian Museum.

Princess Zinaida Nikolayevna Yusupova was an Imperial Russian noblewoman, the only heiress of Russia's largest private fortune of her time. Famed for her beauty and the lavishness of her hospitality, she was a leading figure in pre-Revolutionary Russian society. Serov depicts Princess Zenaida in her Moika Palace. This portrait is often considered Serov's masterpiece.

[irinayoussoupoff]

The first picture is the original Diadem of Irina, same with the second just in its box and with her diamond fringe necklace. In the third, if you look at the middle you can see the tiara upside down, in the hands of the Bolshevik Jewelers along with her Rock Crystal Tiara and the Yusupov Lovers Knot Tiara. So how did it end up in the pictures used to advertise Maison Irfé in the mid twenties shown in slide 4 and 5?

The Yusupov Diamond Sunburst Tiara was made in Paris by Chaumet ( @chaumetofficial ) as a wedding diadem for Irina. It was purchased by either Felix or Zinaida for her. Either way, same bank account lol. At the start of their honeymoon they went to Paris and dropped off Irina’s jewelry collection and some of Zinaida’s to be cleaned and redesigned. After this, we have two different conspiracies. The first is the most unlikely, the couple left the jewels in Paris and returned to Petrograd without Irina’s collection and fetched them while in exile. But the tiara is clearly shown in the hands of the Bolsheviks so that can’t be possible. The more likely reason is that upon the outbreak of WWI the couple gathered the jewels as they were in France while trying to get home and they managed to get them to the Moika Palace. When Felix returned to Petrograd during the revolution to retrieve some possessions he supposedly hid most of the families jewels in a little room under the staircase. The room wasn’t discovered for some time and even a loyal servent of the family was killed while trying to keep the hiding place a secret. Nevertheless they were found when they were converting the palace into a museum. Like most of the jewels they were broken down and sold piece by piece which is likely the fate of Irina’s Sunburst Tiara.

The reason Irina can be seen wearing it in the twenties is either because they had Chaumet make a replica or the she’s wearing the replica made by Cartier for Countess Tysckiewicz, shown in the last two slides. That tiara was noted to have its center jewel changed once in its life. Ultimately it’a unclear the details exactly. I contacted Chaumet for more information so i’ll let you all know if i hear back 💗

[annalaurendet70]

Prince Vladimir Pavlovich Paley with his maternal half siblings.Vladimir was the eldest child of Grand Duke Pavel Alexandrovich Romanov of Russia's second marriage.

Vladimir's mother Olga Valerianovna Karnovich, Princess Paley's first husband was General Erich Gerhard von Pistohlkors (1853-1935 Riga) in 1884, by whom she had four children:

•Alexander Erikovich von Pistohlkors (1885-1944), who married Alexandra Alexandrovna Taneyeva.

•Olga Erikovna von Pistohlkors¹ (1886-1887).

•Olga Erikovna von Pistohlkors² (1888-1963), married firstly in 1906 to Count Alexander Belzig von Kreutz and secondly in 1922 to Prince Sergei Kudashev.

•Marianna Erikovna von Pistohlkors (1890-1976), married firstly in 1908 to Peter Durnowo, secondly in 1912 to Christoph von Derfelden and thirdly in 1917 to Count Nikolaus von Zarnekau.

📌 Alexandra Alexandrovna Taneyeva is the sister of Anna Alexandrovna Vyrubova 📌 Marianna Erikovna von Pistohlkors was inside the Yusupov Palace on Moika during the time Rasputin was murdered.

[artificialqueens]

The Biggest Con in History, Chapter One (Sashea) - Roza

summary: 1927 cannot possibly be more dreadful as the bolsheviks overtake the former imperial russia. despite this, citizens are uplifted on the rumour that the czar's daughter may still be alive. sasha, focused on finding a job during the oppression, finds herself in the whirlwind of a lifetime. [ anastasia au, based heavily on the broadway version of the classic film. ]

author's note: after heavy demand and interest in this I absolutely had to write, I hope I can finish it because I picture it so vividly in my head. I'm so glad I get to be eastern european as possible, it's been such an honour to get to do the same with jackie and the middle east so I feel full circle having fics now with both sides of my culture. I hope while this au is for good fun that you might learn some things about slavic history/culture! just me being soft, that's all. thank you to dear alex for being the best beta!

AO3 Link / My Tumblr: @leljaaa / ♡

— *.✧

"Тетя, do you have to go to Paris?"

Yekaterina sighed gently, her suitcase clamped shut as she turned her head towards the voice of the smaller blonde's voice.

"Alexandra, you can always come visit me, you're my niece!" The empress replied, a smile across her lips as she bent down towards her brother's daughter.

The younger girl seemed distraught at the idea of her aunt leaving for France, especially when the revolution had just ended in the empire.

It was 1907 and the royal family was struggling to stay in one piece though Alexandra certainly wouldn't know any better; she spent her days happily whisked away with siblings or at balls.

"It is still wonderful here," Yekaterina insisted though deep in her heart she knew that this revolution was directed towards the government.

This was only the beginning somewhat of a downfall; Yekaterina knew her brother, who had managed to become the czar of the empire, was struggling. The economy was in shambles and the people were using their voice to say something.

The balls went on: change didn't.

A lightbulb suddenly brightened within Yekaterina's head; she hummed softly as she skipped over to the cherry wood cabinet next to her bedside.

"I have a gift for you," she called out from the other side of the room as her fingertips reached into the top drawer, her hand pulling out a music box she had custom made by a merchant in Spain.

Alexandra tilted her head, the young princess completely amazed at the trinket. Her eyes widened, every little carving and detail absolutely stunning.

Every colour imaginable seemed to cover the exterior of the music box, images of roses and a man and woman dancing painted with bright oils and prized stones.

It was a sight to behold certainly.

"For me?" The small girl squeaked, "Спасибо за подарок!"

Yekaterina chuckled, gently handing it over to the blonde beside her. "No thanks needed, I got it made so you'll always have a piece of me, consider it my parting gift."

'Plus you're definitely not old enough to drink yet.' The empress reminded herself as she watched Alexandra completely focused on attempting to open the music box.

The little girl gasped in suspense, biting her bottom lip as she attempted to gently open the contraption.

Alexandra finally managed to shove her fingernails in to open it. The empress blinked, perhaps it wasn't in hindsight the smartest thing to give a girl who was only six years old.

The twenty year old smirked hearing the music begin, she saw the smile across her niece's face widen. She clearly was attempting to reminisce on what made the melody so familiar.

"It's our lullaby, you'll always have it with you now."

Alexandra teared up, her eyes watered as she tightly hugged her aunt, Yekaterina sighed heavily knowing that she had to escape this empire to somewhere a bit safer even if it meant compromising family whereabouts.

"I'll miss you," she mumbled against the fabric of her golden dress. The older woman kissed her forehead promising that one day they will unite in Paris and keep in contact.

"I'll miss you as well."

Eleven years had passed in the blink of an eye, the empress felt an overwhelming worry overtake her head as she heard of the Bolshevik overtake.

The royal family was beginning to decline in popularity and many blamed the family for every economic and social issue in the crumbling empire.

Yekaterina tapped her foot impatiently before hearing a loud knock upon her bedroom door in Paris.

"Come in," the thirty year old yelled as she took a final sip of her imported alcohol, she looked up to find Trinity, a countess who had been married to a member of the imperial court and escaped with her.

"Katya, I have some news," The brunette spoke grimly. Her hands clasping a handwritten letter, the blonde tilted her head, confused, noticing the brush strokes that bled through the paper.

The letter was clearly written in Cyrillic, it must have been from her motherland, from Russia. "Bring it here," Katya said urgently, praying that it was a message about her brother or her nieces and nephews.

Trinity walked quickly in her heels, the countess dropped the letter in Katya's lap. The confusion in her expression suddenly ceased.

Nothing but white overtook her face; her hands shook as she finished reading the message, her eyes closed rapidly as if it was impossible and simply a dream she could shut out and wake up from.

"No," the empress whispered before she dropped the paper at her bedside, her face suddenly red from the river of tears that rushed down the side of her cheeks.

The only thing that then filled the room were the deafening screams and sobs of the dowager empress. Trinity quickly crouched down as her servants came worriedly, asking what could possibly be the matter.

"Это сон…"

Trinity quickly picked up the paper from the ground, her eyes darted towards the message again; staring aimlessly at the brush strokes.

"Екатерина Петро́вна Замоло́дчикова,

каждый член семьи Замоло́дчикова был убит большевистскими лидерами.  

Они лежали мертвыми на Урале."

Trinity crumpled the paper, she didn't need to read it again and neither did Katya; Russian or English, it didn't matter. The sentiment still stood.

The entire Zamolodchikova royal family had been murdered; the dynasty had ended and was officially gone.

Murdered in cold blood, one right after the other. Katya sobbed, she'd never wanted so badly to hope that somehow, someway not everyone was gone.

Please, if I am a decent woman, please at least let one have survived.

— *.✧

1927.

"мои друзья нам нужно поговорить!"

Brianna felt herself bite her tongue as she stood above the average Russian citizens, her hands gripped the side of the wooden stand.

The Bolshevik general sighed heavily, knowing that this speech wasn't going the best. There was nothing but an overwhelming amount of anger happening in the streets, her army stood command in case anyone did something stupid.

It felt like an utter disaster.

My father wouldn't want this. All I inherited was trauma and chaos.

"I hear you comrades, the revolution hears you," she yelled as she raised her hands, the crowd beginning to silence as many reporters stood aside, recording every word on their paper pads.

"Together we will forge a new Russia and we'll be the envy of all the world," the girl began, her Star of David necklace tightened around her neck as she bit her tongue.

"The Czars St. Petersburg is now the people's Leningrad!"

The citizens listened or heard the speech: in person, in newspapers, it all seemed to spread throughout the entire country eventually. This revolution was being heard by all, and yet no action was being taken to help those in awful condition.

A country now in shambles economically and physically. All that remained were fragments of an old, thriving royal family and giant murals or posters with propaganda.

Shea rolled her eyes.

"They can call it whatever they want. Same name, new empty stomachs."

Times were somehow even worse.

Every day that dawned seemed to bring new sets of laws and rules that only tightened the eye around every citizen who lived within borders.

Police and members of the guard put in place at every corner, lines for basic rations of food and shotguns to the head if anyone complained of something, even the most miniscule detail.

The walls now had ears and those who would argue seemed to disappear in a wink, it was as if every basic right had been stripped away.

Leningrad was gloomy, the constant reminders of old, Imperial Russia stuck out like a sore thumb against the working class and their crowded, barely stable apartment buildings and factories.

In one corner, Yusupov Palace.

It's architecture was a glimmering masterpiece and piece of old Russian history. As the sun shined, the gold palace would sit and bask in glory, just across the Moika river.

Next to it, a dirty and rotten government -owned shop for daily rations of bread, beans or grains.

Hail our great new land.

Now it was a land of royalty and the colour red. New ideology had spread far and wide outside Russia, Shea felt her stomach shake finding out news from the stand next to the small market square.

St. Petersburg was completely run on the thrill of gossip; it got everybody through the new troubles of the empire.

Shea grinned upon hearing the old men and women bicker at the stand, pretending to read through magazines and books to not seem as suspicious to nearby guards.

"Although we know the Czar certainly didn't survive, along with most of the family, they say that one daughter may be still alive."

"Princess Alexandra!" A woman called out chipper though she was quickly shushed by all those next to her. Shea felt a plethora of ideas sneak into her head at the idea of a lost princess.

"They say the empress, her aunt Yekaterina will pay her entire royal sum if someone can find the lost princess," a brunette whispered excitedly to her group of friends.

Shea exited the store, the woman immediately spotting a figure running towards her.

"Shea!"

The voice was undeniable, the woman turned in her shoes, covering her shoulders with her wool jacket as she waved to Detox who almost crashed into her.

"They've closed another border!" She moaned in distress. Her long, pale blonde hair blew in the direction of the wind as she stood still and explained how they should have ran for the West while they still could.

"Detox, I've been thinking about Princess Alexandra."

"Oh not you falling for these tales as well," she spoke, disappointed as she explained that the chances of any Zamolodchikova family member making it out of execution were close to none.

"Trust me on this."

She supposed Detox was one to trust in this situation, she had been a count in the royal court, she knew the family like the back of her hand and had fled her own execution date just in time.

"Princess or not, we're stuck in Russia unless we make a move now."

Shea pondered, though her mind seemed overtaken at the thought of an entire royal sum in her hands; how would the old woman know it was Alexandra?

"I have an idea and you need to trust me on this."

Detox sighed, pushing her hair back as she adjusted her scarf, listening intently to whatever plan the conman had up her sleeves.

"We find a girl, a look-alike and take her to Paris," she began before the blonde's eyes grew wide and shined in the desolate Russian sunrise.

"Imagine the reward the empress would pay!"

"Exactly," Shea said as she shook her friend's shoulders, the two walking towards the end of the market square.

"We need something to use to fool the dowager empress," Shea mumbled under her breath as she and Detox walked through the busy and crowded streets of St. Petersburg or— Leningrad rather.

Shea stared at the music box for a few brief moments; her memories seemed to swirl into one as the words left her lips before she had even thought about the idea.

"How much is that music box?"

She noticed her fellow con man immediately whip her head towards the peasant seller who seemed intrigued by her interest in the detailed, rusty item.

He insisted that it was priceless and was nothing but the original from the Alexander Palace itself.

"I simply can't part with such an antique!"

Detox rolled her eyes, the ex-imperial court member quickly tightening the grip of her brown fur coat as she attempted to pull along her friend.

Shea felt a smirk build across her lips as she let go of the blonde's grip around her wrist. "I'll give you an entire ration of grains, two days worth."

"Done."

They walked out before the man could even speak of a trade back, Shea ran in front of her friend, another devilish smirk across her lips. They had their plot, all they needed was a woman to be their princess and beautiful replacement.

"Do you believe in fairytales Detox?"

The blonde shook her head, "Maybe once upon a time I did, but certainly not now. Don't even know if it's allowed," she teased, though Shea chuckled holding the music box up, proud of their prize.

"We're going to create a fairytale that the entire world is going to believe, even the girl we find to play the part!"

As their feet trailed across the heavy path of snow, they spoke about a possible audition process, though Detox insisted that would get them into far too much trouble.

"We'll do it across the river, opposite of the current camp and at the abandoned theatre," Shea explained calmly as Detox frowned.

She knew it was a decent idea however that certainly wouldn't stop people from finding out somehow .

"It's a risky idea, are you sure that this is a good idea for the both of us? Money wouldn't buy our dead bodies back."

Shea nodded quickly, nothing could possibly sway the young woman's opinion on the matter.

"Hopefully disaster won't ensue."

"It'll all go smoothly, no worries, just large bags of money from the empress herself," Shea reminded as Detox finally began to accept the dangerous plan.

"We'll be rich and out of Russia, what more could you possibly want?"

"Nothing," Detox replied as she held an arm around the younger woman's shoulder. Shea cheered, insisting that they begin to look throughout St. Petersburg for their princess.

Alive or dead, who knows.

— *.✧

Sasha ran her hands through her hair, licking her fingertip as she began to tighten the braids that made up the front row of her head.

"One job interview, this is the only chance you get Sasha," the blonde repeated to herself aloud as she made her way through the heavy and cold Eastern European weather.

The orphan looked down at her brittle skin, she didn't remember a single thing about her life since she had been found by members and staff of the orphanage and taken in.

Amnesia was what the staff at the center had told her, they found it impossible that a girl couldn't remember a single thing about herself.

Her mind a cloud: no one had claimed her in the twenty years she had stayed however she refused to believe that there wasn't at least someone out there waiting for her.

Everything felt like a lost cause in her life except the dreams she had of her lost family, she could hear singing or laughter when she slept or dreamt sometimes.

All of these things seemed to only confuse her further—she wished for a sign .

The only semblance of a clue she had was Paris; it was always in her dreams, her spirit, everything she had worked for seemed to be for this one destination.

I have to have family somewhere, is it in Paris? It certainly can't be in Russia.

Sasha had managed to book herself an interview for a job down at the local market, it was to help with selling fish; not the most attractive offer but it was still money.

It was far better than the hospital in Odessa or the factory in Perm.

The twenty six year old held her hands together, her nerves beginning to rise as she passed what she knew to be Bolshevik territory.

Her eyes glanced over to the trucks that lined up across the camp and small buildings.

She wasn't technically trespassing, it was public access however she couldn't help but feel watched.

A shot rang out and the blonde screamed, immediately she fell into the snow, raising her hands to show that she meant no harm.

"It was a truck backfiring," a voice spoke clearly as the footsteps quickened towards Sasha.

The blonde was far too horrified to look before she felt a gentle tap at her shoulder, she turned and opened her eyes as she crouched on the snow.

The face of Brianna, the general of the party smiled. Sasha felt her heart race, not in a good way. "I am so sorry," she quickly began before the brunette asked her to breathe.

"It is okay, it was simply a test. Those days of neighbors fighting are over."

The Russian nodded even if her entire body seemed to vibrate. The thought of being near the general especially scared her.

"You're shaking," Brianna said aloud before taking her hand and offering to show her to a local tea shop just steps away from the building's base.

Sasha shook her head. "Thank you but no."

"What's the hurry?"

The question seemed innocent enough, though the blonde never knew how they may use it against her or twist her words.

"I cannot lose this job, I'm sorry, they're certainly not easy to come by."

Brianna nodded, it was a respectful response, though the image of this stranger, this woman, felt engraved inside of her memory.

Her soft, curly, shoulder length blonde hair and her rubbish clothing; she looked quite put together for someone who clearly had less than nothing to her name.

"I'm here everyday," she finally replied as Sasha gave a slight smile, immediately beginning to walk away and pace her own steps faster and faster towards the Market.

The intervention left the woman in shambles, her nerves clearly felt by those around her.

She couldn't bear the life of an orphan who worked at a market. This couldn't possibly be her narrative for the rest of her life.

Being near so many people seemed like a positive even if her anxiety began to trickle down, all of her thoughts focused on if she should even take the job or not.

She spent an unsuccessful hour at the common square, still looking for that tent before seeing the corner of books and magazines - her attention immediately caught by the drawing of Paris that hung on the wall.

Sasha looked at the various books, though she knew she couldn't afford them, and eventually began to listen in on the daily gossip.

The environment met with whispers by older grandmothers who spoke about a woman named Shea who was apparently holding tickets to Paris.

"They're holding auditions, you know, to try and find the princess. They'll even do all the papers to get out of Russia."

Paris?

"Where can I find this woman?" The blonde suddenly asked.

She knew it was not her business to intrude on conversation so rudely, but this seemed like the one chance she had.

It was certainly better than working with dead animals.

They turned, amused that the young lady had taken such a sudden want and interest in the idea.

One of the grandmothers mentioned something about a nearby Palace, and Sasha quickly ran off and thanked the gaggle of women that surrounded her.

Sasha had never felt herself run so fast, a twist of fate and she was now bustling back into the piles of snow for a small pinch of hope that this girl could help her out.

This is my chance, my chance to find my family.

[kuro-von-shitsuji]

I was tagged by: @thebeautifulmacabre

Rules: Answer 20 questions, then tag 20 bloggers you wanna know better

1. Name: Lily

2. Nickname: idk I’m always just Lily tbh

3. Zodiac sign: Picies

4. Height: I... genuinely don’t know. 160 something cm. 164? No idea.

5. Languages: English and Japanese, although I haven’t used the latter much lately and it’s getting rusty

6. Nationality: Born in England and raised in Australia so a bit of both (but mostly Australian)

7. Favourite season: Spring!

8. Favourite flower: Roses and lillies

9. Favourite scent: Freshly baked cookies

10. Favourite colour:  This changes all the time but I like dark reds and lately I’ve been partial to soft pink colours

11. Favourite animals: Cats, turtles, giraffes are rad too

12. Favourite fictional character: Hands down it has to be my boy Sebastian, but honourable mentions go to Ardyn from FFXV and also a bunch of my OCs who I adore but also feel like don’t count.

13. Coffee, tea or hot chocolate: I’m a coffee gal but in the afternoons/evenings herbal teas and fruit tisanes are always a treat

14. Average hours of sleep: I think 7. I try for 8 but I always seem to get productive close to midnight (like now l-lol)

15. Dog or cat: Cat

16. Number of blankets you sleep with: Never enough. Only one in summer (a winter duvet with a quilted cover) but in winter I’ll have three duvets and a throw blanket. At the moment I’m just using two though.

17. Dream trip: St Petersburg! I especially want to see the Moika Palace a) because I’m writing a book set in it and b) because Felix Yusupov is my favourite historical figure atm and I want to see where he lived.

18. Blog established: Okay so I started one in 2012 called Generalvonblog, but my parents started following me to see what I was up to on my gap year (Dad made a tumblr called “generalvonblogsdad”) and then complained every time I posted fandom stuff. So then I made this one in 2014, but I only started posting my own content in 2016.

19. Followers: more than I ever expected to have

20. Random fact: My New Years resolution this year was to get through my 50 book backlog. I’ve read 24 so far and my backlog is now 63, so you can see how well that’s going. (I got most of them free through work, but STILL)

Tagging: I’m not going to tag anyone because it’s 1 am and I need to go to bed, but if you’re stuck in quarantine and want to fill this out then call it a tag from me!

[moikapy]

Face Yourself by Ky Ashanai https://ift.tt/2OqTzXm

[defunctfashion]

Franz Xaver Winterhalter | Portrait of Princess Zinaida Nikolayevna Yusupova | c. 1858 • • • Zinaida was an Imperial Russian noblewoman, the only heiress of Russia's largest private fortune of her time. Famed for her beauty and the lavishness of her hospitality, she was a leading figure in pre-Revolutionary Russian society. In 1882, she married Count Felix Felixovich Sumarokov-Elston, who served briefly as General Governor of Moscow. Zinaida is best known as the mother of Prince Felix Yusupov, the murderer of Rasputin. She escaped revolutionary Russia and spent her remaining years living in exile. Following her narrow escape during the Russian Revolution, she was forced to leave all her financial assets in Russia: her entire jewel collection was hidden in a secret vault in Moika Palace in hopes that she would retain their use in their return to Russia, however all were found and sold by the Bolsheviks in 1925. During her exile she took only the major jewels, and those of historical importance, and had them sold to fund her family's life. • • • #historicalfashion #fashion #fashiondesign #fashionhistory #historyoffashion #vintagefashion #art #vintage #historicfashion #defunctfashion #costume #costumedesign #couture #costumehistory #franzxaverwinterhalter #princesszinaidayusupova #victorian #victorianfashion

[miffy-junot]

Felix Yusupov on his escape to Crimea following the February Revolution

In the spring of 1917, many people left St. Petersburg and sought refuge in the Crimea. The Grand Duchess Xenia and her three eldest sons, with my parents and Irina and I, followed the general exodus. The wave of revolution had not yet reached southern Russia, and the Crimea was comparatively safe. My young brothers-in-law, who had remained at Ai-Todor, told us that when news of the Revolution reached the Crimea the inhabitants of the two neighbouring villages came to congratulate them on the change of regime - singing the Marseillaise and waving red flags. M. Niquille, their Swiss tutor, took the children and their governesses out onto a balcony from which he harangued the crowd. His country, he said, had been a republic for three hundred years, everyone there was perfectly happy and he wished the same to the Russian people. Frenzied applause greeted this speech. Feeling extremely embarrassed, the poor boys did not know which way to look, but it all ended peaceably and the enthusiastic demonstrators went home singing the Marseillaise.

The Dowager Empress, accompanied by my father-in-law [Grand Duke Alexander], her youngest daughter, the Grand Duchess Olga Alexandrovna, and the latter's husband, Colonel Kulikovsky, also arrived at Ai-Todor. After the Emperor was arrested, the [Dowager] Empress Maria, who wanted to be as near her son as possible, stubbornly refused to leave Kyiv. Fortunately the Government ordered all members of the Imperial family then in Kyiv to leave the town. The local Soviet having given their approval, preparations were made for leaving at once, but it was not an easy matter to persuade the Empress to go. Life in the Crimea was peaceful enough until May. But, as our stay there threatened to be a long one, I thought I ought to see what was happening to our house on the Moika and also to the hospital in our house in Liteinaya Street. I left for St. Petersburg with my brother-in-law Fyodor, who insisted on coming with me. I brought back with me two Rembrandts, which were among the finest portraits in our picture gallery: "The Man in the Large Hat" and "The Woman with the Fan." Unframed and rolled up, the paintings were easy to carry.

Our journey back to the Crimea took place under most unpleasant conditions. A crowd of soldiers who had demobilized themselves, but kept their arms, filled the train. There were as many piled on the roofs of the coaches as inside them. In fact one coach collapsed under their weight. As they were all more or less intoxicated, several fell off during the journey. The farther south we went, the more crowded the train became, chiefly owing to the civilians who were seeking shelter in the Crimea. Eight of us, including an old woman and two children, were huddled together in what was once a compartment of a sleeping car. We reached the Crimea at the same time as the all too famous Breshko-Breshkovskaya, nicknamed "the grandmother of the Russian Revolution," who came to the Crimea for a rest after her long imprisonment in Siberia. She traveled in the Imperial train, and Kerensky had placed the Palace of Livadia at her disposal. The city of Yalta, gay with red bunting, turned out to give this old termagant a rousing welcome. The most ridiculous stories went round about the Breshkovskaya. Popular report had it that she was the daughter of Napoleon I and a Muscovite shop assistant*. On arriving at the station in Yalta, the crowds hailed her with cries of "Long live Napoleon!"

While we were in St. Petersburg, an alarming incident had disturbed the peaceful life of Ai-Todor. One morning at dawn, my father-in-law was wakened by the barrel of a revolver being pressed against his forehead. A band of sailors, sent by the Sebastopol Soviet with a search warrant, had invaded the house. The Grand Duke was requested to hand over his keys and any arms he might possess. The Dowager Empress was forced to get up and allow her bed to be searched. Standing behind a screen and powerless to protest, she saw the leader of the gang make off with her papers and private correspondence; he had already taken all my father-in-law's papers. He even seized an old Bible which the Empress had had with her since the day she left Denmark to marry the Emperor Alexander III. The search lasted the whole morning. Nothing was found in the way of weapons excepting some twenty old Winchester rifles which came from a yacht my father-in-law used to own. In the afternoon the officer commanding the search party, an extremely disagreeable and arrogant man, informed the Grand Duke that he was obliged to arrest the Empress - "Maria Fyodorovna," as he called her - as she had, according to him, insulted the Provisional Government. My father-in-law managed with great difficulty to calm him down. He reminded him that it was not customary to allow sailors to enter an old lady's room at five in the morning, and that it was natural for her to resent it. This individual was to rise to an important post in the Bolshevik government, but eventually came to a bad end and was shot. That the Provisional Government had allowed Ai-Todor to be searched was a further proof of their weakness. Acting on trumped-up information about the anti-revolutionary activities of my father-in-law's family, the St. Petersburg Soviet had insisted on a search warrant being issued by the Crimean authorities. On hearing of what had happened, Irina hastened to Ai-Todor, but was not allowed to enter. There were guards at every entrance and even on the little footpaths known only to those familiar with the estate. It was only when the search party had left that she was able to join her family.

From then on, the inmates of Ai-Todor were subjected to every kind of annoyance. A guard of some twenty soldiers and sailors, all of them rough and insolent, settled down on the estate. The commissar who accompanied them produced a set of regulations by which the prisoners had to abide. After a list of things they were not allowed to do, came the names of the people they were permitted to receive: Irina, myself, the boys' tutors, the doctor and certain tradesmen. From time to time, and without the shadow of a reason, they were forbidden to see anyone, even Irina; then, without further explanation, the ban was lifted.

On my return to the Crimea, when Irina told me what was happening, we agreed that she ought to see Kerensky and ask him to intervene. So we left for St. Petersburg once more, but it was a whole month before Irina could get an audience with the head of the Provisional Government. On reaching the Winter Palace she met a few old servants whose joy on seeing her again was very touching. She was shown into the Emperor Alexander II's study. Kerensky came in almost immediately; he was most polite and even a little embarrassed. He asked his visitor to sit down, and she immediately chose her great-grandfather's armchair, thereby obliging the head of the Government to take the seat reserved for visitors. As soon as he understood what had brought her, Kerensky tried to explain that it was no responsibility of his. But Irina paid no attention and continued her narrative without sparing him a single detail. In the end she had to be satisfied with his promise to do what he could, and left her ancestors' palace forever, after saying goodbye to the staff for the last time.

In spite of what was happening and the general uneasiness, social gatherings were numerous in St. Petersburg. Even during the darkest days, young people must find an outlet for their high spirits. Small parties were given almost every night, either at the Moika or at the houses of friends who were still in town. We even spent an evening at Tsarskoe Selo with the Grand Duke Pavel Alexandrovich. After dinner his two daughters Irina and Natalia** gave a charming performance of a French play written for them by their brother Vladimir. The Grand Duke Nikolai Mikhailovich paid us long visits, always thundering against everything and everybody. Toward the end of our stay in St. Petersburg the Bolsheviks made their first attempt to seize power. Trucks filled with troops drove through the city, shooting off machine guns; soldiers crouching on the running boards shot at any unfortunate pedestrians who had failed to take cover. The streets were strewn with the dead and wounded; the capital was in a state of panic. This time, however, the insurrection petered out and comparative calm was restored for a time.

Shortly after this, we returned to the Crimea. During our absence an inquiry had been held at Ai-Todor, following a complaint lodged by my father-in-law about thefts committed by the search party in May. All the inmates of the house were questioned separately. When the Dowager Empress' turn came she was requested to sign her statement: "the ex-Empress Maria." She picked up a pen and signed: "the widow of Emperor Alexander III." It was not till a month later that Kerensky's emissary arrived on the scene. He was scared of everybody and everything, and did nothing whatever to improve conditions.

In August we heard that the Tsar and his family had been taken to Tobolsk, in Siberia. Whether this measure had been forced upon the Government by the Bolsheviks or whether, as Kerensky stated, it was a first step toward action against them, it was impossible not to be extremely anxious about their fate. King George V had invited them to come to England, but this had met with the opposition of the British government in the person of Lloyd George. The King of Spain had also offered them hospitality, but the Emperor had refused, saying that no matter what happened neither he nor his family would ever leave Russia.

When autumn came, I decided to go to St. Petersburg again; I wanted to find a hiding place for our jewels and more valuable objets d'art. When I arrived I set to work at once with the help of the most trustworthy of our servants. I then went to the Anichkov Palace and took out of its frame, and rolled up, a large portrait of the Emperor Alexander III which the Empress Marie was particularly fond of and had asked me to bring back with me. Unfortunately I came too late to save her jewels; they had been taken to Moscow by order of the Provisional Government. [...] Before leaving Moscow I had a long talk with the Grand Duchess Elisabeth, whom I found full of courage. She had few illusions about the seriousness of the situation and was greatly alarmed over the fate of the Emperor and his family. After a short prayer in the chapel I took leave of the Grand Duchess, with a heavy foreboding that I should never see her again.***

*Breshkovskaya was in fact born in 1844, over 30 years after Napoleon's invasion of Russia.

**Natalia Paley later became a model and actress in France and America.

***his foreboding was correct. Grand Duchess Elisabeth was murdered in Siberia in 1918.

source: Lost Splendour by Felix Yusupov, chapter 26

[dailyjobse]

Sales Person job at Moika Dynamics Limited

Sales Person job at Moika Dynamics Limited

Vacancy title: Sales Person [ Type: FULL TIME , Industry: Professional Services , Category: Sales & Retail ] Jobs at: Moika Dynamics Limited Deadline of this Job: 06 June 2022 Duty Station: Within Zambia , Lusaka , South – Central Africa Summary Date Posted: Thursday, May 26, 2022 , Base Salary: Not Disclosed JOB DETAILS: Sales Person Overview • Must have a degree in marketing or any related…