Koschei awaited her response, yet what Marie did say.. well, it came as a surprise. A brief second passed before the Russian suddenly realized —
He’d used the wrong language entirely.
As the immortal blinked, his lips parted slight. “Ah—-” what remained of his smile paled away, mismatched eyes wide. “Nyet, I—” An embarrassed wince came to his features as Koschei then looked away. Humiliated, he reached a pale hand up to run his thin fingers through his white hair, letting out a quiet groan of a sigh. Despite how hard he’d tried to get his point across without difficulty, he’d failed in the end.
Well, perhaps it was not too late.
Out of politeness, he finished his thought. “Forgive me, I had not realized I was speaking in Russian..” Koschei managed, glancing back to the blonde with a weak smile. “I had been wondering if — perhaps you would like to go to the ball with me..” Brows drawn in concern, pure earnestness could be seen within his gaze. He did not expect her to say yes. He simply hoped her rejection would be gentle enough to not humiliate him further.
The other seemed utterly surprised at the Dauphine's words, and it took a moment for his mistake to register. Suddenly and very obviously embarrassed by his mistake, the snowy haired man stuttered as his smile faded as he tried to form a sentence... But in the end he looked away, running a hand through his hair and trying to regain his composure, and while Marie still had no idea what he wanted but this was terribly entertaining and absolutely adorable.
"It's alright." she reassured, still looking at the other with a smile upon her features-- one she simply couldn't erase, not then. Watching at Koschei slowly rebuilt himself from the fumble, his monochrome eyes connected with her own crystalline blue hues, and the Russian offered a weak smile. His next words were thankfully in a language she understood, yet his request surprised her.
"Oh, Koschei,"
"I would love to!" All of this for such a simply request? Marie had never really tagged Koschei for the shy type, but she certainly didn't mind it.
Her response to his entrance was astonishing, alone. Simply the fact that Marie was so.. so happy to see him — to say that Koschei was stunned would be quite an understatement. He wished to cherish her company, however the more he thought about it, the more he feared that she had other people in her life. Other people for whom she cared more, mortals who simply mattered.
Then again, that wasn’t saying much, considering his own wretched past. As the blonde beamed happily at him, the Russian found himself smiling back, feeling a surprising amount of.. was it hope? Such an emotion seemed rather new to him, yet Marie was easily capable of instilling great amounts of it upon him. Such a remarkable quality only drew him closer to her.
Taking a breath, the Russian gazed upon her, suddenly feeling painfully conscious of his own appearance. If only the scientists had not taken away his abilities… then he would have been able to disguise his repulsiveness behind the appearance of another — someone more beautiful. Someone she would happily accept. Still.. Koschei knew that, selfishly, he wished to ask Marie to the ball. And so he would not be stopped, not now, not by the insecurities that had plagued him for so long.
They were not even matters of self-consciousness. The fact was simple enough; surely no one would truly welcome someone like him.
Marie looked down at the flowers, leaning slightly to smell thing-- a sweet fragrance hit her nose and her smile only grew. They would look so nice in her room, as dour and plain as it was (Hive City needed new interior designers in her opinion), and they held meaning, which made them that much more beautiful/
Yet... she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, the other being alarmingly quiet. Glancing back up to Koschei, she saw that he was looking back down at her, and so her eyebrows raised. Did he have something to say? Just as the blonde was to ask what was wrong, the immortal man opened his own mouth, and what poured out... She did not understand.
He’d spotted her from afar, step faltering immediately as the Russian realized precisely who that figure was —-
Marie.
He’d intended to visit her, and, as fate would have it, the opportune moment had risen. Bouquet of flowers concealed behind his back, Koschei strode closer, smoothly sitting beside her. The blonde was wearing more modern attire, it seemed, a beautifully pale, yellow dress upon her that only further accentuated her lovely features.
“Masha,” he said quietly, a hesitant smile upon his pale features.. and as the immortal shifted closer to her, he carefully proffered forth the flowers. “These are for you.”
The blonde was simply fixated on the book she had borrowed from the library. A library! For all the people! Did they have that back home? If not she would request one to be opened immediately-- books for everyone to read, it was such a delightful idea!
Or maybe they had one already. She needed to know more about the public's conditions...
Just as Marie turned to the next page someone sat beside her, and the blonde paid them no real attention until her name was said. With a small, questioning 'hm?' the blonde tore her eyes from the words on the pages, but before she could look at the other person her eyes were met with... flowers? Crystal blue hues flickering up, a smile came upon her features as soon as she recognized the face-- which was immediate.
"Koschei!" she said, tone full of surprise but rang with happiness. "I-- for me?" It flustered her slightly, getting immediate gifts from people when they were usually sent by messengers in Versailles. This was very special indeed. Removing her thumb from marking her place in the book, the blonde took the bouquet with pink-dusted cheeks. Letting out a small, breathless laugh, she looked back at the snowy haired man.
Miraculous as it was, Koschei could not deny the truth that was laid before him. Partly, he found himself pleased to be within the great, buzzing metropolis, however odd it was in comparison to his true home. After all… if little had changed, then perhaps he would have the pleasure of being reunited with one he held rather close to heart.
Heart —— Such a thought brought a faint smirk to the pale man’s features. Nevertheless, he did not intend to relax so soon, mismatched eyes gazing about his surroundings.
Not everything was the same.
The Russian stepped forward, warily eyeing the door that remained before him. He’d unfortunately missed the previous announcement, yet the fact that such an object remained there so blatantly was enough to give him reason to suspect the scientists. He had no way of knowing what laid beyond, as his own sorcery had been sufficiently sealed away, however Koschei felt no fear in turning the knob and stepping through the portal.
Getting out of her own door was no simple or easy task, but with help she had managed to do it-- and the blonde couldn't help but feeling stronger than before. She knew she needed to take matters into her own hands now, no matter the consequences or rules she faced in Versailles-- she couldn't allow her country to fall so quickly. What kind of queen would Marie be if she allowed such actions to take her country when she knew of them? A terrible one-- worse than she was apparently destined to be in the first place...
But it left her wondering if she would change. In her time between the blondes appearances in Hive City, when she was back at the palace, she remembered absolutely nothing of anyone. She didn't remember who K was, or Arthur, nor the things that had happened-- the large storm, the ball... nothing. It was as if it never happened. Marie could only hope that when she was back, before she arrived, she could carry something on her person-- a journal! Yes! To remind her of everything. She would always keep it close.
Yet as she walked back to her apartment the blonde froze, hearing the clopping of a galloping horse and smelling fire, and upon turning she was met with a door. It stood like hers, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and smoke seeped from underneath it near menacingly. Did... someone need help? Hesitantly the Dauphine touched the handle, but flinched back finding the fire had made it terribly hot. Bunching up the sleeve of her dress, she was finally able to open it, a large cloud of black smoke making her cough and tear up, stinging both her eyes and lungs. Perhaps against her better judgement, the young woman took one, two steps in before continuing on.
Heels clicking against marbled floor, Marie held her arm against her mouth and nose, trying to filter the fiery air as she walked on-- when suddenly she was nearly knocked over by a galloping horse. Concern written on her features, the blonde look around, trying to spot the animal once more, but instead hearing a voice echo-- a terribly familiar one at that.
“One would think you would know better than to confront me once more, foolish Ivan!”
"Oh no..." Koschei. It was him? When had he gotten into Hive City? Picking up the hem of her dress Marie ran as fast as she could to where she heard the voice come from, and slowly the fire had become hotter and hotter. She was getting close. Sweat prickling at her brow, the Dauphine breathed in and out smoke, her eyes burning and tearing up as her lungs felt as if they were to burst-- but she held back any coughing or tears, for now wasn't the time.
When the scene played out before her, Ivan slowly encountering, yes, Koschei, the blonde's heart nearly stopped and everything seemed to speed up without her permission.The blade raising, glinting red and orange and yellowing nearly blindingly as the metal stood in the air. Yet before Ivan could bring it down, before he could strike t he young woman did only what first came to mind-- and it could have been foolish as well.Nearly throwing herself, Marie covered Koschei with her own body, breath heaving in the thick, hot air as she clutched tightly... And there was no blade upon her back.
// Good evening, Hive City. It’s come to the attention of some that this holiday season has started.. rather grim. There hasn’t truly been any sort of merriment or revelry to be had by all. So let’s change that, shall we?
On Saturday December fourteenth, a large ball will be held in this city, courteous of Prince Edward. This is a very formal event, everyone is expected to wear their best. Invitations will be sent out and are required to gain entry. Upon arrival, guests will be given a blue ribbon to tie around their wrists as both a memento and a means to show you may come and go as you please.
This city has seemed to sap the joy out of it’s residents, spend an evening enjoying yourselves and simply being happy. We hope to see you all in attendance.//
—-
[[Alright, people, here’s the deal. This city’s been sad as hell because of the latest event and I think it’s time to have some fun, so here’s what’s gonna happen. Reblog this post once, just once, and your reblog will count for an RSVP of sorts. Once you’ve reblogged this post, MAKE SURE YOUR SUBMIT BOX IS OPEN. You’ll be sent an invitation that way.
Obviously, not everyone’s going to be here on Saturday, so the next week of replies will count towards the ball. Just tag your open with #Citta winter ball or #Citta mini event. It’s not an official event, it’s just something fun to do for the holidays to get rid of the pain and sadness of breaking our muses for a while.
If you have any questions, feel free to contact me or Kat! I can be found here, here, and here. Kat can be found here. If you need a skype, just ask! We hope to see guys enjoy yourselves!]]
"Pardon me sir, I meant not to do it." [EVENT/OPEN]
A chance to go back... and Marie wasn't even sure if she would take it.
In the passing months between her time back at Versailles, only to be returned abruptly to Hive city once more, the blonde looked at the ornate white door before her with hesitant azure eyes.
Should she go back?
Well, yes, she should. After all the King was dying and she was nearly about to become Queen-- just like they had all said before, just as they had all predicted... All those strange people that seemed to know her life before it even happened, and the one man who was impossibly angry at her for it... For her terrible job as Queen...
Did she want to go back?
No. Of course not. She was without an heir-- a daughter nor a son, and she was already 4 years into her marriage to Louis... The people would gossip and hiss dirty remarks behind her back, saying how she wasn't doing her part as a wife and a Dauphine... No, in the eyes of the French she was merely an Austrian spy with a high title. The public was even starting to grow tired of her 'antics', but it was Louis who--! No... they would never believe Marie, not if she blamed her husband for all of this. Even if her own mother believed her, they way she chided the blonde in her letters about her lack of 'relieving' news was disheartening at best, usually sending the teen into a fit of tears.
She was only 19. What more could she do?
She pressed her head to the door, feeling the gold-painted wood press into her skin and threaten to make marks upon her powder-pale skin, to leave small indentations and expose her anguish to the people. She had a duty to carry out, she had children to bear and a public to be presented to like a pretty little porcelain doll. She had to be fleered upon by the people, the ones without responsibilities, and could judge her from afar all they wanted without any remorse because everyone agreed.
They hated her.
But she had a job to do.
Immediately the door slammed behind her, causing the blonde to gasp and look back... But if she went back through, would Hive City, her secret paradise of crumbling buildings and strange friends, be on the other side? It nearly brought her to tears. Taking in a sharp break the blonde turned and walked down the marbled hall, stopping short as her husband walks through the doors and... two small children. But whose were they-- she had never seen them in Versailles before. It was when they smiled at her, ran toward the young woman with rosy cheeks and the word 'mother' on their lips that her heart froze.
She was... a mother?
Louis smiled at her as well, gently, lovingly... And the Dauphine was left bewildered at the turn of events. It was actually as if she had a family now, an heir and a daughter and for the love of God she couldn't recall their names, she couldn't... Understand why these children who looked so much like her were clinging to the skirt of her dress, why they smiled at her so familiarly when she could hardly speak back to them... While she looked back with only confusion.
"There you are."
With a small gasp Marie whipper her head around, golden locks of hair fluttering with her sharp movement as she looked back to see an open cell door, the marbled walls replaced with crumbling concrete, a burly man frowning at her with hatred in his eyes. Why? Why was he so angry at her? Looking back she was only faced with more cell, and her dress was replaced with tattered rags... With the children were nowhere to be found. Before Marie could speak her arm was grabbed roughly, causing her to gasp as she was pulled down the dilapidated halls until she was outside. Arms tied behind her with rough rope, tight enough to make her fragile bones ache, tears burned the backs of her crystalline blue eyes.
What in the world was happening?
Practically dragged by her hair this time, now long and ragged as if she had been like this for some time, it was cut haphazardly, blonde locks falling to the floor as her breath shook and tears blurred her vision. Hoisted into a cart with a man behind her, the horse let out a whinny as its' reigns were whipped. They moved with a slight jolt against the paved road, and when they turned a corner... She saw it.
The French people raving, cursing, yelling at her for being such an atrocious queen.
The guillotine.
This is what they had been talking about in Hive City, all those people who actually knew her-- the man who had berated her for being such a terrible leader before she was (and still wasn't-- what had happened? Where was her home the scientists had promised?! She never had kids!), it was all leading up to this. Unable to wipe her tears Marie simply squeezed them out of her now dry eyes, the droplets streaking her pale cheeks as she looked upon the public. Marie did not raise her chin in pride, for this was a humiliation, and if it was what her people wanted... Then so be it. With a shaky sigh the Dauphine-- no, former Queen simply watched as the road beneath the cart moved, tracing cracks in the road with her eyes until they were too distant to make out.
She felt hollowed out, empty inside. One moment she had everything-- a satisfied husband, two children and by God one was a boy. An heir she had finally produced, an heir! But now... Now that was all gone, and all Marie was left with was the constricting sensation in her throat and the weight of guilt in her chest for things she had not yet done, crimes she hadn't committed... And it nearly caused her to cry again, the burning returning, but she realized now it wasn't in her eyes or nose-- it was in her heart.
Now at the center of the Place de la Révolution, how appropriate, the blonde swallowed thickly and was led up to the elevated platform. She looked up at the shining blade as it glinted in the sun, the chilly autumn air making Marie shiver slightly as the crowd continued to roar and cheer and-- yes, even a small few she could see cried. Well, at least not all was lost. Feeling drained the blonde let herself be led forward-- but by completely accident she stepped upon the foot of her own executioner. How ironic. With a small apologetic smile upon her chapped lips, Marie opened her mouth and spoke, her words clear and tone genuine.
Marie Antoinette on the Way to the Guillotine
Jacques-Louis David / 1793 / Pen and Ink / 150 x 100 mm
The Louvre
Stripped of the color and richness of his acclaimed paintings, David’s frenetic sketch from the moments just before Antoinette’s beheading highlights his skill of form and proportion.
