esotericas

omg! another auction! yay! i’ve given up on writing good titles folks. i’m back at it again. you know the drill. skins! enjoy <3 starting bids are included in the skin’s title. if an item hasn’t yet been bid on, you’re free to bid the amount listed there. bids must increase by $1 (or 25 mina) and you must be able to pay for the bid when the auction closes (paypal or ingame) (ex. a 225 mina bid is equivalent to a $9 bid. you would need to bid $10 to outbid this) if you don’t respond to my dm within 24 hours of the auction closing, the skin will be passed on to the previous bidder. if a bid switches to or starts with irl currency, it cannot switch back to mina. don't edit your bid, just make a new comment if you are out-bid and tag the previous bidder no non-bid comments auction closes: wednesday, march 23, 5pm EST bidding format skin: bid: discord: STEVE cozy cloak - starts at 150 mina / 6 usd ruskan reds - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd yarr! - starts at 150 mina / 6 usd ALEX peachy drapes - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd vibrance - starts at 150 mina / 6 usd turquoise and rouge - starts at 150 mina / 6 usd delicate golds - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd ragged adventurer - starts at 150 mina / 6 usd dotty - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd plaid and playful - starts at 150 mina / 6 usd ARMOR gerald (steve) - starts at 225 mina / 9 usd jessie (alex) - starts at 225 mina / 9 usd references are available for every skin, just slide me a dm! (@cap'n#4985)

Agnieszka wonders why her signature was removed from the latest Moda.

Cecilya Angelika Ludovar cries about being too young for most of the events.

BIDDING IS NOW CLOSED - thank you all!

Agneiszka Petrova proudly admires her handiwork, and then gets back to work on the next Moda i ve Kort publication.

wowsirs's third skin auction! (i can't think of a better name) i closed commissions, and here's what i made instead! folks, i'm back at it again with my monthly drop of overpriced skins. yay! i closed comms for like two weeks and immediately regretted it, because now i have nineteen skins available for YOU lovely people to purchase! i know this is happening right after sarah's auction post, however i'm going to simply ignore that fact, and pretend that you people still have money. since these skins are of various amounts of pixels and detail, the starting bid will be included in the skin's name. enjoy! ((as usual, credits to the lovely shaydelicious <3)) bids must increase by $1 (or 25 mina) and you must be able to pay for the bid when the auction closes (paypal or ingame) (ex. a 225 mina bid is equivalent to a $9 bid. you would need to bid $10 to outbid this) if a bid switches to or starts with irl currency, it cannot switch back to mina. don't edit your bid, just make a new comment if you are out-bid and tag the previous bidder no non-bid comments auction closes: saturday, february 12, 5pm EST bidding format skin: bid: discord: ACCESSORIES golden sparklies - starts at 50 mina / 2 usd the 'romanesque' - starts at 50 mina / 2 usd sheer kokoshnik* - starts at 50 mina / 2 usd cozy capelet - starts at 50 mina / 2 usd ALEX SKINS armenian dream - starts at 175 mina / 7 usd plum tudor - starts at 175 mina / 7 usd victorian greenhouse - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd ruskan elegance - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd lavender honey - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd extra cozy - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd shoulders aplenty - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd flushed florals - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd brighten up, buttercup* - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd scruffy combinations - starts at 100 mina / 4 usd STEVE SKINS (+ ARMOR) use protection - starts at 200 mina / 8 usd fuzzy shoulders - starts at 150 mina / 6 usd not a vampire™ - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd grellow cloak - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd fuzzy shoulders 2, electric boogaloo - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd references are available for every skin, just slide me a dm! (@cap'n#4985) * - these skins have sheer elements which may not display right on the black base. dm me for screenshots without it!

The prisoner stood alone in the tent, head bowed. If it weren't for the steady drip of blood dripping from his scattered wounds, he could have been a statue.

“Vonce upon ein time...” The memory hit Friedrich like a punch to the gut. “Vonce upon ein time vhat, vater?” Freddy asks. He’s nine again, in his little windmill bedroom. Pink sheets, muddy boots by the door. Plush lamb clutched against his chest. “Shh, mein boy. Let mich tell it.” “Sorry, sorry.” Lying in his bed, it startled Friedrich how well he could remember his father’s face, even then. Two decades after his death, every crease and smile-line was still etched into his mind. “Vonce upon ein time..” --- Every night, Patroclus watches as a wounded Achilles returns to their tent. Each time it’s the same. The golden prince, struck mortal by unknown enemies. Red, mortal blood. Red, mortal cuts, as unnatural on his perfection as a snowstorm in summer. Patroclus says nothing. He welcomes his lover back with all the softness he can muster, and keeps his private curses to himself, as he has always done. You see, Patroclus and Achilles have known each other since their earliest days. Since they were just two boys running on the beach. Two boys sneaking sips of ale when nobody was looking. Two boys sneaking furtive glances at each other across rooms. Two boys, hands laced tightly together out of sight. Two boys sleeping curled up in a bed with red sheets, red as blood. One day it’s different. Achilles stumbles back to the tent bandaged, his very life leaking from a near-fatal wound. This time Patroclus can’t swallow down his anger. --- Nine-year-old Freddy wonders if his father knows. He wonders if his father understands what he’s really asking when he says, “Vater, did Achilles und Patroclus love eachozer?” His father’s answer is a slow one, but Freddy is patient. Friedrich stared at the ceiling, throat tight with dry tears. It had been a long time since he’d thought of this day. He had no clue if it was his last moment with his father, no way of remembering anymore. It was long ago. “Zhey did, Freddy. Zhey did.” --- It is only when Achilles has fallen into a fitful sleep that Patroclus allows himself to be angry. It was wrong. Achilles, a great warrior. Son of a god and nearly a god unto himself. And yet there he lay, half-dead before Patroclus. Hot, wet rage spills down Patroclus’s cheeks, and he does what he has sworn to do every time that Achilles returns to him with red blood spilt. They look nothing alike, but Achilles’s armor fits when he puts it on. --- Achilles, no- Raggy slept soundly next to Friedrich, bandages peeking out from underneath his shirt. Friedrich watched him sleep, grateful that the ever-present furrow in Raggy’s brow was fainter than when he was awake. He couldn’t help himself when he reached out to lift his lover's hand, the iron ring still secure in its place. Friedrich wondered if it will ever be accompanied by another. He had heard promises of yes, of ‘someday’ from Raggy, but the promises had been coming for years. Freddy can’t sleep, his mind awhirl with questions. He tiptoes past Erwin’s bedroom, careful not to wake the only sibling he’s seen in years, and softly knocks on his father’s door. “Vhat ist it, mein boy?” Freddy looks up at his father, plush sheep clutched to his chest. “How did zhey love eachozer, vater? Zhe men at church alvays tell us it ist vrong.” It’s a long time before Freddy gets a response. --- When Achilles wakes too-early one morning, Patroclus knows that it’s time. He softly ushers his lover back into bed, calming him with a gentle palm on his cheek and promises to wake him before the battle. Inside, Patroclus sends prayers of apology up to the heavens. He never lies. Just this once, however. Just this once, it’s for something worthwhile. Patroclus is not a warrior, but with Achilles’s helmet obscuring his face, he finds it a bit easier to pretend. The generals don’t notice when Achilles doesn’t speak. They don’t notice that he never removes his helmet. They don’t notice that his grip on his spear is too tight, too far down. All they see is the angry red path he cuts through the enemy, a sea of bloody mortality swimming around his feet as Patroclus finally lets his anger free. --- It wasn’t until Friedrich was on the other side of the room that he realized he had gotten up at all. As he stood in front of his mirror, it wasn’t his own face that stared back at him. When he took off the helmet he hadn’t remembered putting on, the face that looked back at him was Freddy and Friedrich and Patroclus. All three of them stared through the glass, nine and thirty and centuries beyond death. The weight of the helmet was a comforting one when Friedrich put it back on. --- Patroclus is not a warrior. When he reaches his destination and turns back to look - just once - at the river of anger, he knows why. Achilles stands across the battlefield, visible even beyond the bloodied men. Patroclus turns to face him. A mortal red scar, neatly slicing them in half. He waits, and the gods themselves must know that this moment can not end yet, because the battlefield falls into a singular breath of silence. Patroclus removes Achilles’s helmet, holds it high. Achilles sees him, and even from this distance, Patroclus can see the betrayal in his eyes. The son of a god, a prince and a warrior and perfect steps down onto the battlefield, heedless of the blood spilling around his bare feet. Patroclus doesn’t have time to return the helmet to his head before the world goes dark. --- When Ragnvald ( @Javert ) woke, the other side of his bed had long gone cold. [OOC:] NOT a pk, Freddy sure is missing tho... alternate music:

Friedrich Henrysson sat anxiously at his fiance's bedside, rarely leaving for longer than it took him to get a drink of water. Although he trusted that Ragnvald would make a recovery, he couldn't help but worry anyway.

A SILENCE OF THREE PARTS [PK] ((OOC: TRIGGER WARNING)) This post contains non-graphic suicide, suicidal ideation, and mentions of blood. If any of these topics could upset you, please click away. I - A Silence of Held Breaths Released A tired old man in the body of one much younger stands where home used to be. What was once home is now fields, farms, and a lonely winding road. The man is cold, his thin body chilled as the winter wind bites through his coat. His frozen feet lead him on paths now overgrown, paths where once he walked every day. This way to the tavern. Up the hill to his old home. Through here to the park. To the swing and the gardens and the tree. The sight of the tree hits him like a fist in his gut, and the man realizes this is where he must meet his inevitable end. Aruan Jay Ferinn is too many things. A sparrow, a shepherd. A father and a lover and a teller of stories and yet none of those things. He is a man who is everything but himself. Long ago, in another time entirely, Aruan wrote a note to a lover on this tree. The note remains there still, carved into the worn bark. Aruan’s chilled hands shake as he pulls out his knife, knowing this act will hurt him far more than his death will, although that moment too is fast approaching. - Once his love note is gone, Aruan allows himself to breathe again. His first mistake is finally gone, and the weight on his shoulders lifts the slightest bit. (The note was written to a woman who no longer saw him as anything other than himself.) He wonders what she could have been without him. He wonders if she knew, even then, how he was going to end. Aruan Jay Ferinn has always known. It has been an ever-present hum in the back of his head, whispered in his own voice and his mother’s and the voices of countless others. Aruan kneels in front of the tree, carving a new message below what used to be his love note and is now a mess of chipped bark. Here Lies A.J.F. A stranger to all. 1760 - 58 S.A. Aruan marks it with today’s date. He cleans the knife of tree bark with the cuff of his sleeve, and is comforted in the knowledge that someday this inscription will fade. After allowing himself the relief of one final breath, Aruan Jay Ferinn is finally, finally free. II - A Silence of Things Changing A hush falls over Elysium. It is the time of night and morning that is both things and also neither of them. A note sits on the kitchen table in the Ferinn home, placed where Aruan’s children will see it. The note is brief, with a stack of letters next to it. This is what it says. By the time this letter reaches you all, I will be dead. I hope that you, my children, will not hate me for this. But I understand that you might. I am sorry. I hope that I see you again one day, in a life beyond this one, but I hope that it is a long time before any of you leave this life. Aruan. Each letter is addressed to one of the Ferinn children. III - A Silence of Messages Received Aruan’s living doll August works tirelessly, delivering letters to those whom he has instructed it to. To Rosalind @Generi: To Adelina @LuxyLucy: To Arcelia @marslol: To Andora @Generi: To Eugeo @Suicidium: To Lotte @marslol: ((OOC NOTE)) Thank you all so, so much. I hope to never forget the memories I’ve made on Aruan, and I hope you all don’t forget me either. Aruan was my first ever persona, and he's stuck with me in ways I never realized a character could. I feel like there's something symbolic in the death of one's first character, especially one so emotionally significant to them, but I don't have the words, so I won't try. May the sun smile upon you, Wowsirs. IV - Epilogue

Agnieszka reads the missive with pride, although she reminds herself to teach Isabel some better spelling during their next lesson.

gorgeous gorgeous girls cover their sinful heads headscarves, kokoshniks, hijabs and more! all my lotc egirls out there know how terribly hard it is to find a nice head-covering for your lovely demure young ladies, and wowsirs is here to help! i have for you today a whole eight headcoverings of various cultures and levels of fanciness. enjoy! for all of you lovely haeseni ladies, i would advise you to only purchase kokoshniks fitting your rank, about which information is available in the most recent moda i ve kort publication, found here! i am not liable for any trouble you may get into for not following these rules ;) ((stole this part from shay so thank you for that <33)) bidding starts at $6 USD (or 90 mina) bids must increase by $1 (or 15 mina) and you must be able to pay for the bid when the auction closes (paypal or ingame) (ex. a 225 mina bid is equivalent to a $15 bid. you would need to bid $16 to outbid this) if a bid switches to or starts with irl currency, it cannot switch back to mina. don't edit your bid, just make a new comment if you are out-bid and tag the previous bidder no non-bid comments auction closes: saturday, january 8, 5pm EST bidding format skin: bid: discord: 1: mushroom scarf 2: sushi cosplay 3: fur hat 4: midnight blue 5: icy 6: silver kokoshnik 7: white lace 8: grass head

Adelaide reads the gossip with a hum, the paper worn from the long journey it took to reach her in Yong Ping. She can't help but raise a brow at the surprisingly... favorable? reaction to her 'death'. It's certainly a welcome surprise.

A New Tailor In Town A young seamstress slips into Yong Ping late one night, met only by a few. The city sleeps as she sets up her wares. Not a creature breathes except for her and her cats. Her shop is small; friendly and open, and racks of dresses hang along one wall. Even those who don’t wish to purchase clothing are welcomed inside with a warm smile and a fresh cup of tea. Three gray cats sleep in various positions around the store, rarely doing more than opening an eye, even at the busiest hours. Although the streets outside may be bustling, the cozy dress shop has an air of quiet homey-ness, cluttered and cozy. And it’s open for business! [OOC]

Adelaide watches as a nondescript brown bird enters through her window, bringing news from Haense, as it often did. As she reads the missive, her shoulders slump, and she rests her head in her hands, mumbling to herself. "Why did I throw this all away?"

New Endings, Old Beginnings The Nikirala Prikaz is quiet when Anya is finished setting her scene. It needs to look believable, at least somewhat so. A smear of blood on her pillow, drawn from her own palm. Her dagger on the nightstand, still dirty from slicing her hand. A few curly blonde hairs, just in case. And the note. Anya has never written a suicide note before, and she imagines it would be even more difficult if she was actually intending to kill herself. But she isn't. The note is simple, written on her personal stationery. It reads: ‘To whomever may find this first: I am dead. Do not mourn me, although I doubt many would anyways. The weight of my sins, known and not, has crushed my soul. The best thing I can do now is leave you all with the satisfaction of knowing I am gone. I hope I see none of you in the next life. Anya' Anya flicks a few drops of blood onto the paper for emphasis, and then bandages her bleeding hand. She sets the note on her pillow, next to the spotted blood. After taking a step back, she nods to herself. Good enough. It will last long enough for her to escape, at least. She's packed the most important of her belongings, and left the rest to be found by whoever enters her room first. After a moment of silent contemplation, Anya sits down to scribe a single letter. She sends it off with a wave to her bluebird, and then settles in at her vanity to complete her final task. Hair dyed and cut, Adelaide contemplates her reflection. It's strange, for certain, but she thinks the color suits her. With a final glance around at her room, she hefts her bag and slips out the door, protected from sight by the darkness above.

A MOTHER’S MADNESS Anya Ludovar and her twin sister Acadia as young children, enjoying the gardens of Elysium. 12th of Vzmey and Hyff 403 E.S. Anya Ludovar wakes up and the morning- noon- afternoon- sometime sun is bright bright bright through the window in the clinic and Anya’s babies (her babies, nobody else’s. Not him with his little frown and his you-don’t-love-me) are sleeping soundly against her chest. Her toes are cold because the blanket has slipped off of them and there’s a draft. Everything smells like sweat and vomit and sad. Very sad. Anya Ludovar’s cheeks are dry and feel funny when she moves her face and she’s worried she forgot to moisturize, but then she remembers she was crying yesterday after she had her two perfect beautiful babies. She puts her cold toes back under the blankets and thinks about why she was crying. Anya Ludovar (Not de Astrea anymore, she still has to remind herself. She wonders when it will feel natural) is feeling better. She tells herself that this is true and not made up as she sits in her bedroom in the Prikaz and wonders why she’s here. Here Haense here Karosgrad here the Prikaz here... not Elysium. Sometimes the weak winter sun hits the dying potted plants on her windowsill and she thinks about if she should go home. Home home. But it’s not home because even though her babies look just like her mother, papa won’t come out to see them. She knows he won’t. Anya Ludovar wonders if her papa is still alive. Anya Ludovar is not sure if she will like the answer. Anya Ludovar is not feeling better. Anya Ludovar is cold. Anya Ludovar remembers when she was pregnant and everyone was happy and excited and he thought he loved her, but he really loved his son inside her who was actually two perfect baby girls. Anya Ludovar’s perfect babies are asleep and they are as perfect as they have always been. But the babies made him sad and now he is not in love with her, but Anya is pretty sure he wasn’t in love with her anyways. Anya Ludovar wonders if she should try again. He thinks she does not love him (because he does not love her because they are just a transaction and Anya is just like everyone else, that’s what he told her) but maybe she will have his son this time and - Anya Ludovar wants to go home. suggested listening: :)

copycat smh

Anya Ludovar took the paper, reading through the descriptions of open court positions. "Do you think I have a chance at Mistress of the Robes? It would be quite the honor."

anyway i think there should be a downvote button just so u guys can downvote my angst

FORESIGHT OOC: HEAVY, HEAVY TW if mentions of/implied self harm or suicidal ideation make you uncomfortable, please do not open the rest of this post.

brrr!! it’s starting to get cold outside, and you know what that means! that’s right, spending money on things that you probably don’t need. i spent the last two days grinding out a truly horrifying number of winter / christmas-themed skins, which are now up for auction! enjoy :) ((i stole this part from shay so thank you for that <33)) bidding starts at $4 USD (or 60 mina) bids must increase by $1 (or 15 mina) and you must be able to pay for the bid when the auction closes (paypal or ingame) (ex. a 225 mina bid is equivalent to a $15 bid. you would need to bid $16 to outbid this) if a bid switches to or starts with irl currency, it cannot switch back to mina. don't edit your bid, just make a new comment if you are out-bid and tag the previous bidder no non-bid comments auction Closes: saturday, december 4, 5pm EST bidding format skin: bid: discord: FOR THE LASSES 1: modesty is key 2: warm furs 3: a cup of cocoa 4: red dream 5: cold arms FOR THE LADS 1: chocolate pianist 2: ruskan chad 3: santacore 4: green velvet 5: colonial cozy

Anya de Astrea sits in her bedroom, hard at work on the finishing touches of her wedding dress. She tries not to think too hard about anything, but anxiety about her future swirls unbidden in the pit of her stomach.

❀ A ROSE BLOSSOMS ❀ Her Ladyship Anya de Astrea, enjoying a stroll in the gardens of Karosgrad Goodness Gracious, Heavens Above, Is That Another Young Debutante? Indeed it is! The young Anya de Astrea wishes to welcome all who consider themselves friends or family--or those who wish to become such--to celebrate her coming-of-age in the Nikirala Prikaz. Praise Godan! What A Lovely Young Lady. The debut will follow Haeseni tradition, beginning with a whole ton of flowers! Don’t believe me? The Lady will be gifted a wreath of flowers, representing her virtues and the virtues she is to aspire towards throughout her life as an adult. (Mostly the latter - aim for the stars!) Enough, Enough. I’m Hungry. Never fear! After the Lady is decked out in her wreath of aspirational blossoms, there will be a feast! Those who attend only to fill their stomachs will be welcomed with nary a glare (well, maybe one or two, we of course can make no promises,) and a meal will be served for all. Oh No. Is That... A Speech? RUN. Just kidding! This will be a nice speech, promise. Lady Anya’s guardian, Ser Reinhardt Barclay will give a lovely talk about how great Lady Anya is, and then give a toast to our lovely debutante! Bored Yet? You’d Better Not Be! After eating (and hopefully a few minutes to let dinner settle) there will be dancing! What’s a party without dancing? Nothing, absolutely nothing. The dancing will begin with a dance between Lady Anya and her guardian, and afterwards all are invited to join the fun. Am I Invited? Yes! SIGNED, Her Ladyship Anya de Astrea [OOC] Saturday, November 20th, 5:00 PM EST The Nikirala Prikaz

Aruan Ferinn read Amicia's letter to his wife over her shoulder, his face slowly falling as he realized what it meant. He didn't cry, not yet, but he let out a soft, shaky sigh that spoke of future tears. "I'm going to miss her," He says to Emerald, and then stands up to return to his work. Anya de Astrea had barely noticed her mother's illness, her cheerful temperament and deep dislike of serious conversations leading her to easily believe the hushed stories of 'lots of work to do' and 'just needs to sleep.' When she returned home one evening to find her mother dead, Anya couldn't bear to even look at her body. It was something truly wrong, she thought. Mama laid out in bed like this, not drinking tea in the gardens or fixing people in the clinic. Not with her or Acadia or papa. At this thought - She will never see mama and papa together again, not with their sweet little whispers to eachother, not holding hands, - she did go up to her mother's body. Anya picked up Amicia's hand, her gaze falling on her blue dress. Anya and Acadia had always been a pair with their parents. Anya on Christopher's shoulders, Acadia walking next to them, hand clutched in Amicia's. Anya wondered why she had been the one Amicia put in blue. "I suppose there's no way of knowing now," Anya whispered to herself, and then broke into a bout of tears. She curled over Amicia, intending to give her one last hug, but instead just sunk down onto the floor, the edge of the blanket clutched in her hands.