Discover Top Posts Tagged with #alexander1

Might render this later but eat up for now <3

#alexander i of russia #napoleonic era #tsar alexander i #napoleonic wars #alexanderi #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #alexander1 #napoleonic shitpost #napalex #they love eachother chat <333 #they made out after this

that freakpoleon…

#napoleon #napoleonic wars #alexander1 #napoleonic #napoleonic era #napoleonic shitpost #alexander i of russia #napoleon bonaparte #tsar alexander i #elizabeth alexeievna

#artwork #digital art #napoleon bonaparte #napoleonic wars #napoleonic era #alexander1

When: 14th May Where: Outdoor Marketplace Who: OPEN Availability: 2/4

The money in the envelope rattled in Orlaith’s pocket. It had been hard to shove it in, but there was no where else to put it, when she refused to carry a bag or wear a coat. At least if she did the latter she would have bigger pockets available than the tiny patch of denim it was hardly worth bothering to stitch onto women’s jeans. She’d felt irritated about that for what felt like the millionth time when she’d squeezed the envelope in earlier on her way out of the hospital.

She hated when it was her turn to do this. Who could be good at picking a present for someone they hardly knew? But it was tradition among the nurses at St. Asclepius to do a gift when it was someone’s birthday and they took it in turns to collect the money for and choose it. Orlaith always came to the market when it was her go. The variety all laid out to see made it somewhat — but not much — simpler. Still, she was tired after an overnight shift at work and nothing was jumping out to her. She huffed a complaint to her companion. “I don’t see why flowers and a box of chocolate won’t cut it. Or wine. Every nurse likes wine! A bottle to numb a bad shift is sometimes the only cure.” She was only half joking, although wine wasn’t her drug of choice.

#ehqstarter #may2022 #alexander #alexander1 #lixin #lixin1

WHEN: 8.18.2022; after dark WHERE: Upper St. Vlad’s WHO: Dusty + Alexander ( @alexanderives )

Each inventory item had its use, or else it would end up on Dusty’s instagram page exclusively made for selling items out of her closet, kitchen, and classroom. Anything else she managed to hold onto, never went to waste. It’s why underneath the starry-struck sky, the rusty kitchen knife was held to the neck of a breathing being. There was no asking their species, because on this land, it was Dusty’s that ruled. And though she felt a black sheep amongst elegant swans, there was no fighting the lust they all shared. Her hearing had perked the moment this stranger had said something behind her back. Improved hearing added to paranoia. Whether or not this individual had made suggestive remarks could not be determined because Dusty was soon interrupted by a stature larger than her own.

“What’s with the fuss? Can I help you?” She about hissed, when really, it’d have suited Dusty to ask for assistance instead. She wasn’t aware when she’d crossed from Lower to Upper. She definitely didn’t know of hierarchy.