#arland!mc

[maegalkarven]

Long time, no draw

Princess Julietta at her finest

[neonhawke]

7KPP WEEK 2017 - Day 6 - Hope 

A quiet moment between Princess Heloise and Prince Zarad, when she can believe they will succeed in the summit and find happiness together.

[now-sleeps-the-crimson-peta-blog]

Day 7: Future

@7kpp

It took years.

Seven cold, bitter, stolen years she would bear the scars of forever. She was not enough. She would never be enough. Turning, turning, turning, round and round she went, until that one morning when the melody stopped, her crystal music box shattered into pieces.

She never spoke of what it took. Never spoke of that final drop, that final act of violence. Perhaps the memory itself became distorted: a vile, acrid thing to be replayed, time and again, in nightmares she could not remember upon awakening.

The maids whispered. Of a shrill, piercing scream; an animal in pain. Of the blood they washed off her linens, that morning, and the few mornings that followed. Of how, for a while, the king seemed much more at ease, his manner relaxed, yet all the more unnerving for how unusual this was. Of how the queen stared past everyone and everything with vacant eyes, eyes filled with nothing but despair so perfect it could have been mistaken for indifference.

Odile, queen of Revaire, retired early, and sent her maids away. Alone, she sat for hours upon her bed. Dry-eyed and silent, she stared, transxifed, upon the small blade in her lap - a letter opener as sharp as a sword.

As the dawn broke, it’s light gray and uncertain, she closed her hand upon the hilt, and hurled the knife accross the room.

‘No.’

She would not die, neither by her own hand, nor by his.

*

Constance was wrong. Not in the way she questioned duty - only in the way she chose to act upon that realization. A letter was not enough. Not at first.

The king thought the running of the royal household an inconsequential matter, best left in the hands of his wife, that meek, foolish creature who could not possibly manage anything of greater importance. In the sphere that was her due, Odile was free.

There were many desperate men and women, more in Revaire, perhaps, than anywhere else. Sickness. Poverty. Unfulfilled ambitions. A bitter, all-consuming need for vengeance. All useful motives.

The castle became filled with servants who owed the queen a new chance at life. Before long, she realized that her plans might succeed, that an accident would not be questioned: a jousting lance that would not shatter on impact, a horse driven into a frenzy. Then, she remembered. Not everything. Enough.

Odile, queen of Revaire, thought a quick death too great a mercy.

*

In the autumn months, the young king came down with a wasting sickness. The queen loved him well, and despaired of his misfortune. Unafraid and ever vigilant, she remained ever at his bed, sparing no effort to find the cure. She has been seen confering with medics from all the lands, from tattooed healer-men of Skalt to the renowned doctors of Jiyel, all in vain. Cordelia, first of her name, queen of Wellin, became an unexpected companion and a steadfast ally, visiting often to console Odile in her despair.

At the dawn of the first spring day, bells all accross Revaire rang out in a mournful melody, and the heralds cried: “The king is dead! Long live the queen!”

Jarrod’s funeral was a splendid affair. Too splendid, perhaps, to be seemly in a land as ravaged by poverty and hunger as his reign has left Revaire. There were some who cried out against the injustice that was monarchy, some who tried to stop the red procession as it moved through the capital.

She bid her informants to learn their names. Those, too, the heralds would cry soon enough, the owner of each name bound and gagged before the executioner’s block.

Odile, queen of Revaire, knew better than to forgive.

[mendedwings]

Day 5-Growth

@7kpp More Sadie/Hamin because, seriously, none of my girls grow as much as Sadie. And Sheltered Princess/Hamin is amazing. 

The needle dug into her finger deep enough to draw blood, and Sadie couldn’t entirely suppress a small sound of dismay and pain as she jerked away. She sucked on the pricked finger as she glowered at the fabric spread across her lap. This had seemed like such a good idea when she started. But hemming was apparently more different from embroidery than she’d thought.

Very carefully securing the needle in the pale green fabric, Sadie lifted her project off her lap to examine her progress. What had started as a dress, simple yet elegant, was now a half-hemmed tunic, the bottom edge wandering lopsidedly lower to the left. And she’d only pricked her fingers three times so far. Bracing herself against the high probably of it happening again, Sadie resumed her work. She smiled to herself every so often when her gaze caught the discarded pile of fabric that had been the skirts of what was no longer a dress. Mother had chosen the dress to match Sadie’s eyes, which was the main reason this one had been chosen as her victim.

It took another hour, several more pricks to the finger, and enough frustration she almost gave up, but Sadie eventually held in her hands one tunic of pale green silk, with a squared off neckline, slightly puffed sleeves, and a hem that looked like hit had been sewn by a five year old. She didn’t care how it looked. The point of this idea was to embrace her new life. Brushing stray bits of green thread off her, Sadie hid the results of this sewing session and went to see if Ana could loan her the one thing she needed.

A few minutes later, after a successful visit to Ana’s rooms, Sadie stood in front of her mirror is the freshly ‘altered’ tunic, borrowed trousers--slightly baggy, as Ana was more muscular than her--and half-laced riding boots. They were the closest thing she had to the sturdy boots she’d seen Hamin or Ana wear, and for her purposes, they would do.

Sadie studied her reflection. She looked more like a girl pretending to be a pirate than an actual pirate, but that was alright. She was satisfied there was barely any trace of the duty-bound shrinking violet who’d arrived at the isle meek, defenseless, and sick to her stomach at the thought she might let down her parents. Something was missing, thought... Sadie squinted at the mirror for a few more seconds before uttering a triumphant “Aha!” and gleefully cutting the dark blue hem off the discarded skirts to use as a sash. It went around her waist twice, and she had just tied it in a loose knot when someone knocked on her door.

Sadie tensed. She’d shooed off all her servants for a couple hours to work on the tunic, which meant there was no one to answer the door.

“Glitter?”

She hesitated for only a moment. Of all the people on the Isle, Hamin would understand. “Just a moment!” She didn’t run--that would have ended with tripping over her laces--but she may have hurried. “Inside, quick. I want to show you something,” she urged, half-hidden behind her door in case anyone was around. 

“Answering your own door? Scandalous,” Hamin teased as he stepped into the room. “Or is this another step in the process of becoming your own person?” He pulled one of the Truly Awful Biscuits out of his pocket and almost gleefully bit into it, then practically choked when he saw what she was wearing. “Glitter, what-”

“I wanted to see what I’d look like as a pirate,” Sadie explained, her words practically tripping over each other as she huffed dark curls out of her eyes. “But I don’t have anything other than dresses, so I borrowed pants from Ana and cut down one of my dresses, and I know the boots are wrong, but it’s the best I had-”

“Shh.” Hamin walked closer to rest a finger against her lips, his eyes twinkling with laughter. “You make a fine pirate, Glitter.”

Sadie blushed and tugged on the somewhat ragged hem of her tunic. “Once I get better at regular sewing, I’ll be able to make shirts that actually look decent.” She ran a hand self-consciously over the pale green fabric. “I’m thinking about embroidering a flower on here. A Maiden’s Vigil. Emmett told me the story the first week here, and it was... the first seeds of thinking maybe I could be myself. Free of duty and expectation.”

Hamin grinned. “A fine idea. You’ll be the prettiest pirate in the history of Hise.”

“Because you’re a completely unbiased judge of that title,” Sadie teased, playing with her hair and sneaking another look at herself in the mirror. Yes, it would look so much better with some decoration, to draw the eye away from the hem.

He just shrugged cheerfully and finished the biscuit. “Much as I enjoy this look on you, you do know you’re allowed to still wear dresses?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded. “I need look no further than Cordelia to see that. And I will. After all-” a smirk tugged her lips-”I’m hardly planning to greet the Arland ambassadors dressed like this. Or, God forbid, my parents. My poor mother would faint dead away. But occasionally, in private-” she winked- “I could be convinced.”

“Is that so?” Hamin’s grin was wider now.

“Eventually, once we’re back in Hise, I’ll wear things like this in public, but let’s start small.”

Glitter, you are a treasure. I count myself the luckiest of men that you have chosen me.” All trace of teasing vanished from Hamin’s voice as he continued, “I am so proud of you, Sadie. You have taken your old life and adapted it to fit the new, growing and challenging yourself along the way.” He stepped closer and took her hands in his. “I cannot wait until I am yours and you are mine.”

“I thought we already were,” Sadie needled, blushing nonetheless. 

“Officially, you tease,” Hamin laughed.

“Well, until we are, you probably shouldn’t be caught lurking around my rooms when there are no servants present. That really would be scandalous.”

“Very well, Glitter. For the sake of your honor, I’ll leave.” His eyes gleamed mischievously. “Shall I climb down the trellis to avoid being seen?”

“Heavens, no! That would be worse!” Sadie protested.

“Only if I get caught. Are you saying you think I’d get caught?”

“I’m saying I think you should leave. By the door,” she clarified. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later, then, Glitter,” Hamin agreed cheerfully, kissing her on the cheek before he darted out the door.

Sadie closed it firmly behind him and quickly changed back into a more appropriate outfit. She hid the pirate clothes in the bottom of her trunk. This was definitely not the time and place to start dressing like that in public. But someday she would. 

Hopefully someday soon. 

------------------------------------

The outfit alteration idea came from a conversation I had with @flockofflamingos ages ago when I first completed the demo with Sadie and Hamin rearranged all my plans for her. We got to talking about the switch from princess to pirate and the idea of her cutting down dresses into shirts or tunics came up(I’m pretty sure it was her idea...), and I love it so much. It’s absolutely something Sadie would do. 

[maegalkarven]

[now-sleeps-the-crimson-peta-blog]

7KPP Week 2018: Day 5, Family

Another day, another form of expression - and another problem with a lack of words to describe it. Again, what is it? Craft-fiction?

I was going to write a story of Constance’s farewell to Odile, her departure towards a new life in Corval. Sisterly love, sisterly loss. Of a parting gift; a golden locket containing Constance’s likeness.

And then I thought... why not make the locket itself? I make jewelry sometimes, after all, and have the needed tools and materials - chains, ribbons, pearls, crystals, locket bases, resin - ready at hand. 

For Constance’s portrait, I sacrificed a page from a lovely book calendar by Victoria Francés.

[queen-scribbles]

Googling Regency era dresses/ballgowns and imagining my Arland!MC turning them into appropriately pirate attire is amusing.

Picturing her parents’ looks of horror is even more so.

And picturing Hamin’s grin as his Glitter comes out of her shell and finds a way to adapt her old life into her new is just the icing on the cake.

[nerdyrevelries]

Princess Colette of Arland

Part two of my discussion of my 7kpp MCs! Today I would like to talk about my PRECIOUS CINNAMON ROLL TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD.

Name: Princess Colette of Arland (nicknamed: Lottie; I know it’s not actually a nickname for Colette, but shhhhh.)

Hair: Long—maybe down to the small of her back—with perfect curls. Think Shirley Temple style ringlets for reference. I can never decide if I want her hair to be golden, light brown, or strawberry blonde. Maybe we’ll split the difference and give her young Shirley Temple’s hair color, haha. (Edit: I have settled on dirty blonde!) Usually wears her hair down with a delicate tiara. Will wear a ribbon from time to time.

Eyes: Big, innocent blue eyes with long lashes. She is very good at looking up at people through her lashes in a becoming manner, though this is rarely intentional because she doesn’t have an ounce of guile in her, adorable pet.

Body: Peaches and cream complexion. She’s very small and dainty. Probably has dimples when she smiles because she’s adorable.

Style: Elegant. Lots of silk and lace and puffed sleeves and petticoats and long skirts. Her wardrobe is filled with soft pastels, baby blues, pinks, lavender, buttercup yellow, and their like. Has lots of delicately embroidered slippers. Basically, it’s just the sort of wardrobe you would expect to be owned by a princess classic.

Personality: HELP ME, SHE’S TOO CUTE. Princess Colette is soft spoken and painfully shy. She has never relished her social duties as a princess, but never questioned following them either. Being a quiet and unassuming sort, Colette’s favorite thing to do between endless etiquette lessons was to get lost in a good book. She has read almost all the classic stories and fairy tales of each country and is familiar with their history and philosophy as well. She has a fantastic imagination and romantic tendencies that will quickly run away from her. Since she’s always been protected and is definitely the type to imagine monsters under the bed (or in the wardrobe or behind the tapestry or under the floor rug), she has always been a little timid and until seven years ago, she was still known to cling to her sister’s skirts from time-to-time.

As someone with leadership skills, beauty, and charm, Lottie could probably wrap people around her little finger if she wasn’t far too good-natured to ever try. At 18, she is one of the youngest delegates on the island and she can be a little hard to get to know because she isn’t used to talking about herself and won’t unless specifically asked. However, she cares greatly for others and has a heart filled with compassion for anyone who is hurting. She has been known to cry for other people’s sorrows and there isn’t an unethical bone in her body. She is also methodical and believes in improving herself little by little. Basically, she’s just a sweet and wonderful person and I love her.

Besides reading, her hobbies include taking walks through nature and watercolors and drawing, though she insists she isn’t very good. She also has a fondness for sweets.

Initial stats: 50 charm, 25 eloquence, 50 beauty, 50 leadership, 25 charisma, 25 courage, 50 intelligence, 90 etiquette, 50 poise, 15 politics, 50 academic, 40 people, noble, subtle, imaginative, introverted, dependent, compassionate, emotional, romantic, unassuming, traditional, methodical, ethical

How you get her build: -Laugh was endearing -Wait at home obediently -Knowledge for its own sake -Rally the guards -Dressmaker -People watching -How unladylike! -Overwhelmed with sympathy -Spoke intelligently -True love -Listened to their concerns -Academics -Likely maid -elephants are afraid of you -moving or dancing gracefully -Worried about being without support -Satisfied with things as they are -Do good where you can -Wait as is proper -Sheltered Princess -Diligent with careful forethought -Read the novels, poems, and literature -More time to myself -Of course not! -Openly cried