orlainoirsolise

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And make death proud to take us.

Cleopatra, Anthony and Cleopatra - William Shakespeare (via bretontee)

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fahuxed :

Anniesa Hasibuan for NYFW 2016

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virulentignis :

Royal Aquarius Sun & Mercury  Leo Moon, Aries Mars, Pisces Venus Requested by: @cherry-cocoa

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Adwoa Aboah by Emma Summerton for Vogue Spain April 2017

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official promotional photography for the tudors - 57/?

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roseydoux :

Moulin Rouge! (2001)

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queenbloodspice :

At the Taj Mahal.

(Photography by Ami J. Sanghvi)

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official promotional photography for the tudors - 31/?

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Gabriele Salci (1681-1720)

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Henry Clay Frick House, 70th Street Garden.

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Five anything-but-basic ways to wear your hair up this summer.

Photographed by Patrick Demarchelier, Vogue, May 2016.

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vermiliongraves :

“I could. I might, if, during this mission, he regards me in a way that I don’t appreciate. But, alas, Okot isn’t the problem,” Vermilion replies. “It’s the idea of power that poisons him. It’s the pedestal he is placed on, and it is the fear his throne inspires. Destroy those, and he is only a man with an annoying bark, unable to harm anyone.”

The Empress defied all of Vermilion’s prior expectations. She had imagined a power-hungry tyrant, searching for another sharp-edged tool with which to gain more power, more dominance. Out of all the people with power she read about, Orlain was the most grounded, with the most valid concerns. She was open, candid, caring…Her society does not deserve her.

But even with her openness, the cup of coffee is still more forward that Vermilion was expecting. Her offer to exchange cups causes Vermilion to pause entirely. Many customs of seniority, many royal protocols had passed beneath Vermilion like common rugs, ignored and bypassed. Drinking from an Empress’s cup stands in front of her as the first real societal hurdle she has to acknowledge.

And yet, according to the Empress, Vermilion is worthy of it when only a few others were.

Cautiously, Vermilion reached for the cup, pulling it closer, though reluctant to bring the cup to her lips. “What does such a tradition entail…?”

Orlain smiles at the novel experience of finding the Shadow a little unsure. “It’s quite simple sweet, you just drink.” She raises her own exchanged cup a little by way of encouragement before she takes a sip. “It is supposed to be a gesture of friendship and equality, but the Lords know I’ve had to go through this gesture with a hundred people at a hundred formal events who I’d sooner have poked their eyes out.” She gives a dark chuckle.

Her gaze remains distracted for a moment, like she is remembering something. “There was once a time when I appreciated Okot, many years ago. Maybe he even appreciated me. But now he does not even afford me hatred, it’s like he doesnt see me at all. I think he believes that if he wished hard enough he could just walk right through me.” Her gaze comes back to the room and she shakes her head. She sets the cup down and gets to her feet. “I think I will dispense with the usual rigmarole today.” The Empress pulls an impressive silk kimono down from a rail and swathes herself in it, pulling the Obi belt tight around her waist with deft hands. Her feet find a simple pair of obsidian beaded sandals. “I’m afraid we’re due.” She extends her hand once more for the little Shadow to take.

By the time they are out of the Empress’ apartments the warm evening is well and truly drawing in, and the sky is like a water and ink painting with red and yellow inks. Dozens upon dozens of swans and other water birds have come down to the immense pools in the pleasure grounds to roost. The man made forests are alive with the sounds of birds and other creatures calling out their last cries before the night.

Two pairs of guards step out of the way as the two pass on their way to Okot’s apartments. “Of course we may be unobserved by the eyes of man.” The Empress comments lightly. “But I need not tell you that once inside we will be observed and recorded by other means.” The last pair of guards near the top of a short flight of stairs moves out of the way and the Empress swipes her hand over the panel near the door. The lock disengages.

Within, they are alone for the moment. The Emperors quarters are much like Orlain’s, only at least five times bigger, and designed with a far more garish eye for interior decorating. Near the foot of the bed two eight foot high golden swans entwine. The tables are made of glass and gold, not wood. Every piece of furniture gleams, the wooden parts gleaming with gem studs.

The Shadow envoy

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vermiliongraves :

Vermilion struggles to find the answer. 

She was given a command, told to prove herself, and sent to Orlain to do just that. Even if she feels her base drives, she wasn’t asked until this moment to voice them.  “A verbal contract was drafted between you and my creator,” she replies, “that’s why. But no one would have to force me to help you and your children.”.

Vermilion sighs, taking a seat across the table and letting her fingertips grow warm against the cup offered to her. “All aspirations die at the hands of oppressors. So the situation of your children strikes a particular chord with me. All I have ever known is a life without choices, and loving parents, and their fate, even if they escaped from here, was to have that same life. Although you didn’t ask me to spare them that fate in the beginning, I aspire to do so. Not because of any order or request, but because I wish I had what they stood to lose–loving parents and childhood. A chance to be anything I wished to be” She carefully took a sip, letting the warm coffee course down her throat into the pit of her stomach.

“I was born in an artificial womb, and childhood was stricken from my future in an instant. My mothers were DNA samples stored in a freezer, chosen because of their ruthlessness on record. One was precise, cunning, and calculating, like a knife between two vertebrae. The other was just…destruction personified. I was made to be the best of them both, I was forced to study their tactics and find ways to marry their approaches. Being sent here upon your request is my creator’s way of testing what he’s made. The more I succeed, the more he lets me out of that white room I’ve seen for most of my life…”

…and the more he trusts me, the easier it becomes for me to escape him. To find my own life outside of those walls. 

“But for this trial, his impression isn’t the only thing that matters.In fact, , it doesn’t matter. Not to me. This duty matters to me. If I am to be a weapon, I want to see if there is any good that can come of my choices, not just my obedience.”

Briefly, she sits the cup down. “That’s why it’s not Okot I’m killing. It’s the idea that he’s superior at all to the woman who’s heart extends beyond her chest. I meant what I said quite literally: turn the system on it’s side, shake it, and see what falls out. Give me time, and the idea of Okot will collapse around him. E” Lifting the cup again, she inhales the scent. “Whatever happens to his flesh and blood body is up to you.”

Orlain’s brow furrows and she looks over her coffee cup at the Little Shadow with concern. She feels a familiar sorrow. Her own childhood was a very short one, since she herself was born, raised and trained for the role life had already made for her. She takes a sip from her cup.

      “I’m saddened to hear that.” She replies simply.”And as I said before, I would not chose to benefit from your oppression. I should hope that eventually you turn your blades on your creator. I understand that may sound appalling. He may be your creator - but that does not mean he is benevolent. My own parents sold me off at age fourteen. I love them, how can I not? But they were not good to me, and had I had the ability I might have cut myself free. If you can extract my children from this world I would be more grateful than I could ever put into words, so I shan't try. But I’ll be honest...” Her gaze falls a little, sadly. “...I fear horribly for their fate.” She sets the cup down, a light breeze from the open balcony drifts through the room and soothes her. She smiles softly. “You do not mean to kill him? Well, in that case I’ll be very interested to see what you have in mind. I trust you Vermilion.” She nods with a sure smile. “I dont think you make promises or proposals that you fail to live up to, in that spirit...” Orlain pushed it toward the Little Shadow, then held out her own hand. “Exchange a cup with me? It’s a silly old tradition, but I’ve always rather liked it, and found relatively few people worthy of it.”

Outside the sun was going down rapidly, the time for Orlain to visit Okot was drawing close, but she was unconcerned, perrhaps this evening she would keep him waiting a while for a change. 

The Shadow envoy