#inviciousx

[trustxthescarecrowxman]

As promised to @inviciousx here is a selection from my collection of antique books. In a second post, I’ll spotlight a particularly cool old medical reference book that demanded its own photoset. Pictured here, in order, are:

Poems of the Intellect and the Affections - A book of poetry published in 1865

The Five Books of Moses - A Hebrew/English book of scriptures published in 1931 in Austria

A Pictorial History of the Second World War, Vol. I - A book of war photography, remarkable because it was published in 1944 while the war was still ongoing.

And an heirloom scrapbook kept by my great-great grandmother that she began in 1877. It’s mainly a collection of poetry from newspaper clippings

As a bonus, here’s one that didn’t fit in the photoset. 

Peter Rabbit and the Fairies - A 1921 first edition of a children’s book by Alma Hudson, based on the further adventures of Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit.

[quod-quartus]

The young woman sighed and slid further down the couch, curls bunching and spilling over the armrest on which her head was laid. The sofa was plush and expansive. She had walked along the front of it many times, measuring it step by step with her feet as the rulers. It would certainly have consumed all the space in her family's living room. As roomy as it was, she found her toes bumped into the Cardinal's as she slid. She poked her head around her knees to glare poutingly. "Could you please?"

      The man was sat on the opposite side of the couch, pointedly holding a book in such a direction as to block out the sight of her. Not because he was angry (not yet, at least, though recognised the distant possibility) but because he could just sense a familiar switch in her mood. She was not doing anything other than lying there and he knew what that usually led to, for he had rarely known her to simply lie and do nothing. Perhaps by blocking her out he could avoid whatever was coming, too, or maybe it had only incited a need for her to get his attention.

      Already awkwardly perched on the couch, Copia lowered his paperback when he felt toes prodding into his thigh and thwacked her knee with it at her little demand.

       “What? I am already holding on for dear life with one cheek, and you want more space?” He responded, gesturing dramatically at the length of couch she had taken up. “Go and sprawl yourself somewhere else. Maybe I want to lie down for five minutes, eh?”

      With that, he seized her legs and lifted them so that he could rearrange himself within the small space - lying down with his legs against the back of the couch, now, crossing his ankles over each other as he forcefully displaced her somewhat. His toes wiggled contentedly inches from her face, and he brought his H.P. Lovecraft back up to his face to resume reading, smugness radiating from his prone form.

[mgrxves-blog]

@inviciousx liked for a starter

The undertaker slid the document back to his side of the desk and signed and dated the needed portions in his neat, spidery handwriting. The nib of the pen scratched loudly against the paper in comparison to the quietness of the office.

“That will take care of the Authorization to Embalm form.” He explained, tone soft. “Do you have any questions thus far before we move on?”

[telekineticseer]

The telekinetic seer and the half awake Hunter - Closed

@inviciousx

Continued from X

Will blinked for a moment, noting that she definitely wasn’t a morning person. That said...

“First of all, I don’t like kale, which means it was either Garfield’s or Raven’s. Second...aside from synthetic eggs, when are eggs not organic? Since they come out of a living animal that automatically makes them organic...unless you were looking for robotic eggs?” He mused before continuing his questions. “Third, I don’t drink coffee, but I assume that it’s not decaf. Fourth, my personal fridge has pizza, cake, pie and if you’re desperate I can also make you some hamburgers.” He offered, wanting her to get a bit more awake as he used his telekinesis to get the Hunter a mug, which was in the cabinet closest to the pot...boy, she really wasn’t much of a morning person.

[autumn-leaves-winter-breeze]

Hi! Just wanted to say I'm really enjoying the cozy photos of food and tea being served in pretty ways. 😊

I’m go glad you’re enjoying it. 😊😊😊 xx

[faceofeleven]

Familiar Territory

@inviciousx​

The good ship Idris sailed smoothly into the harbor of  Arcadia, a beautiful port town with cobblestone streets, bustling docks, and a friendly face at every turn. As his crew secured the ship and prepared to disembark, Jonathan Smith, ruthless pirate with a military mind, was suddenly struck with mournful nostalgia. He’d run up and down these streets as a boy, nicked sweets from shopkeepers who he’d later realized knew of his crime, and charmed a handful of women until a curly head of hair and sparkling eyes captured his heart for good.

None of his crew knew about it. It was a long time ago, and that woman who ran away with his heart had since proven she considered it worthless.

He went belowdecks to his cabin and knocked on the door.  “We’ve docked, Miss Strick,” he said. “Got your gun hidden away in your corset?”

[trustxthescarecrowxman]

Hey hun! Just curious if I’d missed the book post cause I’ve been flying around in the process of moving lol

//Tumblr must have eaten my ask. >_< Sorry! A cold I had over last weekend turned into bronchitis and I had to stay home. I’ll be going tomorrow instead.

[quod-quartus]

@inviciousx

      She’d given him a time limit of thirty minutes, but he was there in five, having excused himself from the infirmary and the small gathering within. He had found Cortez, the wretched creature of a man who had started this, and promptly lost his temper. It was a mistake. No doubt the Cardinal would seek a way to enact vengeance before long. His schemes to uncover, well, whatever the relationship was that the Papa and Caroline shared would no doubt strengthen in resolve an cruelty. 

      Cortez was lucky he wasn’t dead. As soon as Copia’s influence was ample among the Clergy and he could begin to act without backlash, he certainly would be. 

      Making sure the corridor to Caroline’s room was empty, he quickly ventured down and knocked on the door, clad in a form-fitting day-to-day attire and his skull paint. He quickly ran his hands back through his hair so it appeared less as if he had been involved in a scuffle. As soon as the door was opened, however, he looked at Caroline and found his mind suddenly falling blank.

      “Cortez is nursing a concussion,” he announced, hands wringing slightly at his front. “May I come in?”