#scha

[lovelyarps]

expression practices and getting used to my computer again with my oc YAAAYYY!!! her beautiful smile with no malice in it whatsoever

[drs101-squared]

when someone asks me who my favorite character is (im pretty sure you already know)

[wally-b-feed]

Grey Scha Bada, 2024 🍕

[drs101-squared]

pls 4 the love of god give I need to find a better paing style on ibis my main painting style is shit some1 help me

(this is me rn)

im losing my shit

if i had the ability 2 draw anatomy i would be drawing 24/7 )jsjjsj)#)#

I CANT SRAW 4 SHIT IM LOSINF IT

porno

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i.must.finisb.requests.skibid.toile

wnuff

i how 2 remove imag e

[yourbasicqueerie]

honestly the road didn’t reveal itself on the lack of coven, because the ballad itself??? mama they ate that thing wholeeeeeee! it was breakfast, lunch and dinner with time for a before bed snack

[ozkar-krapo]

V/A

"Tellus #22 : False Phonemes"

(cassette. Tellus. 1988 / rec. 1985?-88)

[dokyunnet]

Nigo with Scha Dara Parr, taken at NOWHERE. Scanned from H-MAG (Countdown to 2000s)

[nethhiri]

Party on, Kil.

Party on, Kid.

Excellent.

This came to me in a vision this morning.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Can you tell us how the tea-time talk between Regis and Epistéme went? Because I can't imagine she would tell him anything about Galahdian history. And he would absolutely notice that.

The first time Episéme gets the letter, she doesn't even notice. In Lucis she never gets letters that aren't bills, and she knows when they are due. The University simply sends her e-mails that always land in her spam folder, probably in the hopes that she won't show up to whatever they had to invite her to. Well, joke's on them. Genis has the will of a wet paper bag and will tell her when something his coming up, should she ask.

Anyway. Point is, Episéme doesn't check her letterbox nearly as much as she probably should, and neither do her cousins. So she doesn't get the first letter. But oh spirits, does she get the second one.

It's early in the morning. It's cold - well, it's the second Shivata, so that's a given - and she's home. Her cousins thankfully have all gone out to work their own jobs, so Epistéme has the apartment to herself. Papers are strewn all over the couch she's lounging on with a mug of her stongest tea. That stuff is better than any coffee, no matter what those heathens at the university say.

She's supposed to be grading papers, but it's going slowly and in her tiny office she would be constantly interrupted, so she's here when the doorbell rings.

Epistéme nearly spills her tea in surprise. "Fohn," she mutters under her breath. So much for no interruptions.

The doorbell rings again.

"Scha, scha, tila!" she calls.

On her way to the door she nearly stumbles over drawing supplies scattered across the floor. Someone - yes, looking at you Atana - must have left them lying around.

Epistéme fumbles with the door handle - that old thing will break on them one of these days, mark her words - and finally manages to open the door. It takes her a few seconds too long to register the black uniform.

"Episteme Arra?"

In response Episéme slams the door shut in the Lord Marshal's face.

By the spirits. What does he want from her? Had she done something? Had one of those noble snobs at the university finally called the 'Guard on her? Wait, could they even do that? Wait, no. Probably not. So what was Cor spirits-damned Leonis doing in front of her door?

A knock.

"Miss Arra, by order of His Majesty, open the door."

A whine escapes her throat. Oh fuck, oh fuck. What did she do? Epistéme takes a deep breath - or at least tries to. Okay, calm down. There is no use in avoiding the unavoidable. She's going to face this like a true scholar. She makes sure the oversized jumper and the layered skirt sit as best as they can. Then she opens the door.

The Lord Marshal is scowling, clearly displeased. Which, fair. You don't get a door slammed into your face every day.

"Yes?" she asks, doing her best to pretend the last few seconds did not happen.

"Episteme Arra?" he asks again, and again pronouncing her name slightly wrong.

"Yes, that's me," sha says, heart in her throat.

The Lord Marshal reaches inside his uniform jacket and pull out an envelope. Epistéme stares at it. It's a stark black with golden embellishments. Her eyes widen and she feels her mouth going dry.

"Why am I being summoned by His Majesty?" she finds herself asking.

"So you know what this is," the Marshal says.

Now Epistéme huffs. "Of course I do. In this city one cannot escape royal history."

The Marshal doesn't even twitch at her tone. She takes the letter and opens it then and there. Better to get this over with and the Marshal away from her doorstep. Taking in the elegant cursive, she feels her eyes widen. Looking up at the Marshal, the man simply looks at her, frown set in his face.

"One moment, please," she says and slams the door shut again.

***

Regis is very pleased when Cor calls to tell him Miss Arra will join him for a late morning tea. It's a bit short notice, but the servants manage to get the Black Salon ready - the one usually used to entertain important dignitaries. Regis smiles. He can just imagine the servants talking. Clarus keeps shooting him looks.

"I know what you are thinking, old friend, but it cannot hurt to ask," Regis says.

Clarus sighs. He clearly swallows down his protests - knowing they will fall on deaf ears - and instead recites the information him and Cor had gathered yet again.

"Episteme Arra, Galahdian refugee, 32 years old and living with three cousins in an apartment in what is now colloquially called Little Galahd. She is a researcher and assistant teacher at Crown University. Her focus point there is early Lucian history. Her collegues say she keeps to herself and is hard to get along with, but she is a dedicated worker. Also she has some reseach projects that she does in her own time, however no one can tell what they are. She has applied to visit the Royal Archives a total of 38 times and was denied each time."

Regis nods to show he has been listening.

A knock sounds and a servant slips inside the room, bowing deep to the two men.

"Your Majesty, Miss Arra is here and has been guided into the Black Salon."

"Thank you. You may go."

The servants bows again and leaves the room.

"Regis," Clarus says, the tone of his voice carrying the meaning of a whole sentence.

"Not ot worry," Regis says. "This is only simple curiosity."

Clarus clearly did not believe that, but kept silent.

------------------

Regis steps into the Black Salon. It's a splendid room, with a black marble floor, beautifully patterned rugs, and walls and ceiling made of black stained wood. The furniture is classic Lucian with silver embellishments. Sadly it is too cloudy for the sun to give it that special glow.

Miss Arra rises from the plush chair she had been sitting in. She is tall, with skin a few tones darker than his and long black hair. It holds the characteristic Galahdian braids and adornments. She wears a dark grey turtleneck and a red skirt with orange and white patterns Regis cannot decipher. Her shins and knees are covered in what his research has uncovered as traditional leg warmers. She curtsies, and it would be perfect, if not for the shortness of her skirt.

"Your Majesty, it's an honour to have received your invitation," she says.

Regis believes her as much as he believes Cor when he says he likes paperwork.

"Miss Arra, thank you for agreeing to this meeting," he says. "Please, sit."

She waits until Regis sat down. So she knows her etiquette. Interesting.

The moment they sit a servant enters with a cart, carrying the tea and snacks. It's Blue Star tea along with nuts, dried fruits and chocolate tart with bamohn. Regis did his research. It all is served with one of their best tea sets and his grandmother's black porcelain. Miss Arra looks a bit wide eyed at the proceedings.

"Now then," Regis says once the servant is gone, "I must apologise for the scare my Marshal gave you this morning."

"No, no! It's- well, thank you," Miss Arra says, stammering a bit. She eyes the tea and the snacks in front of her, her posture stiff but perfect.

"Did he tell you why I wanted this meeting with you?"

"No."

Of course he didn't.

Regis reaches for a thin foulder on a small table next to him and slides it towards Miss Arra. It contains a copy of the diary entry mentioning the Conqueror sailing towards Galahd, as well as a few pages containing notes pertaining the diary the entry was from, as well as notes of the prliminary research that had already been done in his name.

"I believe, Miss Arra, you might be in the unique position to answer a few questions I have concerning this," he says.

"Oh," she says as she skims over the diary entry. "That."

[demonstars]

I can watch other stuff but anyone who’s been at all negative to Dream I can’t

sorry for having dsmp demons for the most ungrateful of his nepo kids. cTubbo is the love of my fucking life.

[three-smiles-and-a-unicorn]

so, uh… guess who saw our beloved winner perform in an opera and guess who is going to see the next song contest live (I hope so at least)??

JJ you are the best also what is going to happen to our taxes now

[reminiscense-lost-media]

Qué nostálgico suena...

Me dan ganas de ver cascadas mientras extraño a alguien.

[joffartac]

Konya Wa Boogie Back (Smooth Rap Version) · Scha Dara Parr featuring Kenji Ozawa

[halas1]

The electro-acoustic ensemble,

this time played by Alex Drol, Eran Zaks and Dodik Oppenheim, come to distill and dim the space with amplified machines and objects.

CEUMSCadaver EyeAlex DroolDudik OppEran SachsRain Machine