#diveronatrial

[saintgallows]

                 my stars 

                               shine darkly 

                                                over  

                                                        M E 

Greed & Ambition & Fear

[lucreziafalco-blog]

           I AM BECOME 

                                       DEATH, 

                                                  DESTRUCTION, 

                                                                             & DECIMATION.

Indulgence is her favorite vice and it always has been. Hedonism her religion, a faith she practices daily, be it on her knees in divine worship or in the bottom of a glass filled to the brim with divine absolution. Life has but one purpose: to be lived. 

A follower of death, Lucrezia reaps when and how she sees fit. A lover of destruction, the jut of her smirked ruby lips have ruined more lives than she can count. No stranger to decimation, she dreams of razing cities to the ground only to emerge its new ruler — its Queen. 

Lucrezia is no stranger to vices, no. She’s been indulging for far longer than the witches clearly care to realize. This may be their game — their trial — but this is her sport.

[cxstoras-blog]

ACT I. SCENE I. White garments adorned with crystals, for strength and ice. The light flow of fabric shows a softness often overlooked, which is partnered by a light veil. Ironic. 

[delilahbello-blog]

                                                      act one, scene one

K I N D N E S S . P A T I E N C E . H U M I L I T Y . 

Humanitas. Patientia. Humilitas.

What do we consider good? Is it what’s pure? Is it what’s true? Or do we damn it all for the lies we repeat to ourselves over and over until we convince ourselves of their unquestionable truth? Delilah, Delilah, Delilah-- are you truly so good? Or is your goodness just a front for true flaw that will mark your final days? Perhaps, it’s high time you learned the wisdom of selfishness. It is time you embraced a different kind of goodness-- to love oneself above all else.

                                      make something of this VICE and VIRTUE

[justtotallystab]

P R I D E goeth before destruction, 

                                                                         and a haughty spirit before a F A L L.

(Pic of mask because i couldn’t figure out how to make it work with the rest of my pics.)

[titaniamoreau-blog]

theodora moreau — virtues of dreams, innovation, & mortality

“Titania,” the people of Verona call them; the Queen of the Fae. And they are a ruler in their own right, hands overflowing with silver powder and honey brushed across their lips. Never ingest faerie food. You’ll go mad with hunger, never again satisfied. Theodora does not partake in the dining, nor do they sip wine from golden chalices. What witch could ever hope to fool a god?

As powerful as they are, regardless of being in control and in their element, Theodora knows more than anyone the weaknesses of their kind. Their dress is forged from iron and silk, their shoulders covered by armor and a headpiece connecting with their mask. Chains and shining stars hang from the garment, as if Theodora is boasting of their strength. That they will not burn.

Lace and butterfly wings hide their features, but their identity is obvious; even behind the veil that flows over their body and the strangeness of their outfit. Jewels swirl in patterns on their skin, a necklace of thorns wraps around their throat. They are both thriving and vulnerable; they are both fragile and unbreakable. Call them a bride of all divine beings, or the widow of an ancient religion.

They are a mortal in the skin of something mythical, casting an illusion from their own dreams. Business and pleasure are both trapped under their thumb, under their command. They are a creator. Their virtues are as much a contradiction as the design they wear, but they’ve managed to use this to their advantage. Love them and fear them. Pray to them and think them godless.

It does not matter; the end will always be the same.

member of the seelie court

[catherinedaly]

event: 001 - the trial

The saint of Verona lives up to her name; the Witches’ have certainly made sure of it. She dons the softest of blues and is covered in tulle, though there is nothing to disguise who she is, to hide her from those considered enemies. It is as if God Himself blessed the youngest Daly with a gift that is hard to find within the hearts of mankind; it cannot be practiced, as it is something innate within her very soul. FAITH is the only thing that keeps the young Capulet soldier going: faith in the future, faith in the Capulets, faith in herself. 

She has no choice but to believe that things will improve within her lifetime. She has no choice but to believe that the Capulets will reign supreme, that they will quell the war and life will calm. She has no choice to believe that she will remained steadfast, unmoving. In a world drenched in sin, Catherine can only be herself: the seelie, the personification of conviction. 

[graceydaly]

Act I, Scene I.

Lace and metal. A treasured thing turned sharp and hard. Horns rest haphazardly upon the crown of her head. Forged amongst flames, she rises from the ashes of a fire lit by her own hands, a heady sort of burning, to stand beside those she once fought. Capulets who once mistook her for a friend allow their expressions to give away far too much. Is that hatred or jealousy playing at the corner of snarling lips? Venom spits but she’s sat amongst snakes for a long time, has felt their scales beneath her fingertips and become immune to their poison. Traitor. The word tastes of iron, of blood, of power over others and devotion to herself. A smile forms upon her lips, wicked and unapologetic.