#kakolookiyam

[itsboundtobetragic]

Kakolookiyam

[ilmondoapuntini]

Kakolookiyam.

[tuxedomxsk-blog]

you're not impressing anyone here, friend

[sanctamater]

' Mother, do you have any stories to tell? '

  “A mother must always have a story ready should a child demand it.” Came the curt answer, bright eyes fixing on the boy who was much too old to call the Blessed Mother anything save Lady Comstock. Mother was a title reserved for the little ones who wanted sweets, wanted an ear that would understand their childish woes and frustrations that their cruel parents simply did not understand. For a fleeting moment, Columbia’s children were hers; bright, young things with rosy cheeks that she would gather to breast. The little angels were not hers, would never be; for she was as frigid as a harsh winter, as BARREN as the Sahara. No babe would inherit her eyes, no child would beam up at her with the adoration all children felt for their mothers (For mother was GOD in the eyes of a child!); and the Lady Comstock remained ALONE, surrounded by the luxury and prestige of a legacy that would die with her.   Yet she wove such beautiful stories; gruesome tales of monsters and men that made even the bravest child pale. What was the harm in humouring a boy who had not quite learned to be a man? Her heart held no wives tale for him. No princess would leap off page to be swept away by knight, no dragon would be slain. For a boy who was entering the world of grey, drawn and exhausted faces, she owed him no tale with a happy ending. HAPPILY EVER AFTER was for children’s books; to teach that good prevailed if one tried hard enough. Once upon a time, when she had been green and giddy, Lady Comstock had believed a prince would come and sweep her off her feet; carry her into a waltz and happy oblivion. In a way, she still hoped, still waited. But with every passing year, eyes hardened until they could cut through diamond. Perhaps they matched that withered heart of hers; all wrapped in cellophane to keep each piece together.  Little hands folded together, movements slow and meticulous. She had something in mind; a story of blood and tears, of fools and snakes for the boy who had posed a soft inquiry; wished for a comforting taste of the INNOCENCE she no longer possessed. Red lips parted, jaw slack as she momentarily grasped for words. “Once upon a time…” Yes; that was a good way to start. Her voice was soft, carrying an almost palpable longing with it that flavoured the air; this meant something to her.   “Once upon a time, long, long ago lived a princess. This princess had no siblings, for her mother had died when she was young, and her father ne’er re-married. Though the king loved the princess very much, he did not spend much time with her. Not only did he have a kingdom to rule, but the little girl reminded him of her mother; and he could not look upon her without feeling a terrible pain in his heart.”   Gentle smile soured; became rueful. A breath was taken, and she continued. “The little princess never left her castle; for it was right next to the forbidden forest, where wolves masquerading as men hid and gobbled up fair maidens! As the only heir to the throne, the princess was warned ne’er to set foot outside. But as she grew, so did her curiosity. What could be so terribly bad about that forest? Brave men ventured inside to prove their worth; could she not do the same? After all, when the king died, she was to be the queen; and a queen had to be WORTHY of her crown. The brave little princess armed herself with grace, beauty, dignity; all the weapons women are given in youth.”                                                  Little good they had done her.   “Though the princess was brave, she was FOOLISH; as most girls are in their youths. She thought herself invulnerable; entered with a loud bellow: I AM THE KING’S DAUGHTER, WHO DARES TO CHALLENGE ME!? Now, these wolves were cunning creatures. In the shadows, one could see them for what they truly were: monsters with blood in their maw and between paws. Yet in the light… Oh, they were GLORIOUS; the kindest man one might ever see. Handsome, well-spoken; the sort a woman would fall for upon sighting him.” Little Queen of Heaven dared to smile at the thought (the memory), flexed fingers as she continued with slow, halting words.  One, two, three; she breathed. “Word spread quickly in the woods; the princess wished for a challenger, expected to see wolves prowling around in shadows, thought they would snap at heels. One wolf - a sly and vile creature - enjoyed dining on the HEARTS of innocent maids. The little princess had come with only her airs and graces; oblivious to the evils that plagued the world. While the light was still strong, he approached; a handsome, worldly man who stole her breath away. With crooked grin did he lead her off of the path, deeper into the forest until she forgot what all had told her: Stay out of the woods, child! Flowers, waltzes; time slipped away and the sun went down, and the man who disarmed her with his laughter became a BEAST.”  Fingers twitched, balled into fists until knuckles whitened, straining to escape from paper-thin skin. Voice, which had once been as gentle as summer breeze hardened; flattened until it became monotone. She had to finish. “Stunned, the little princess realized that no pretty words could save her, and was powerless as the wolf lunged at her, went straight to eating her heart. Too late, she realized her err in trusting him; screamed until throat was hoarse. Yet the princess was BRAVE: her father had raised her to be a queen. Thinking quickly, she reached up; gouged her nails into the wolf’s eyes. Stunned, the creature halted; and the princess was able to run; a broken, bleeding mess. Oh, how she ran! Through the pain of it all, the princess ran back to the safety of the castle, and ne’er did she look back.”  Oh, she could not stop now. Teeth ground together, she continued softly. “The princess did not tell her father; or anyone, for that matter. Instead, she sewed her heart up with red thread, then her chest. T’was a messy job, and the princess had ne’er been the best seamstress. Though she had been patched up, the princess still bled; for the wolf had taken a piece of her heart, and without that little piece, the princess’ heart turned to ICE. Nothing could make her feel; and when her father died and she became queen, she could not muster even one tear to mourn his passing.” How cruel; who would weep when she was gone?  “The little queen who carried ice inside of her went back to the forest every moon, daring the wolf who held the piece of her heart to come back; to finish her off or be finished off by the queen who now carried a dagger. He did not come, but others did. Every day, she waltzed off of the path; laughed with them. When the moon rose, she fought them; carved out their hearts to replace the piece she had lost; yet with every fight, the ice in her grew until it reached her limbs, her head. The kingdom believed their queen had become a wolf herself, and came to fear and loathe her.”   Eyes shut, she squeezed back the tears that blurred vision. None had seen her weep: this boy would not be the first. “Eventually, a man came calling. He was not handsome, but when he spoke, even the birds stopped to listen. The whole kingdom fell in love with his voice, and word spread until it reached the queen who reclined upon her icy throne. Curious, she attended a session; and fell in love. He had a face she could trust, a voice she could worship. In private, the little queen revealed herself to him; and the man with gold in his words claimed he could make every trouble, every woe vanish with the wave of his hand. The ice in her heart cracked, melted; and she allowed him to MARRY her.”                                 Now, she tread on ground that could be remembered.                                                          Remember, she did.  “And as he promised, her husband, her KING, took the queen away; far away from the kingdom and the wolves she had slain. For a time, he was gentle, kind; the ice in her limbs melted, then her head; heart finally began to beat freely as she surrender herself to pleasures she had long since forgotten. Flowers, dances, jewels; he made her FEEL. Yet the little queen’s new husband ne’er showed himself when the sun went down. Upon asking, she was told ne’er to seek him out during the twilight hours. Just as she had done long ago, the queen disobeyed; entered his chambers when the moon was full. Once more, the queen had come armed with only poise and elegance; suitable shields for a married woman. Gone was the man with honey on his tongue; in his place was vicious WOLF; teeth bared and eyes a gruesome yellow. The queen knew her husband’s secret, and that would not do.”  Promises were made to be broken, vows were made to be severed. She had learned that after so many years of SORROW. “The brave queen found herself unable to move, and the wolf took his chance to finish what the first had tried to do. The beast lunged at her, ripped apart scarred chest to find the battered heart she had had half a mind to give him. Talons cut thread, and the wolf gobbled his bride’s shattered heart up in one gulp. Silenced, his secret was safe.”  Fluttering breath betrayed her nerves, and the Lady Comstock dared to cast a glance towards the other; found him pale and drawn. Yet despite the weight which now burdened his shoulders, curiosity sparked in his eyes; a question that could not be ignored.                                         What happened to the brave, little queen?  The mirthless, vacant smile she gave him was more than enough evidence. Happy endings were for FOOLS; for the soft-hearted who believed in them. 

                                                             ”She DIED.”

[rottedhope-archive-blog]

kakolookiyam replied to your post: “This is Elizabeth’s phone.”:

Time. Can u male sick beats sister?

i can beat u with my phone if i have to

[eyesofwater]

"Care to tell me what your kingdom has to offer in regards to decent entertainment?" There's a crafty smile that curls her lips as she eyes the companion seated beside her.

[alamxt]

Settled under the tent, arms folded behind his head, Dastan watched the light of the moon gloss them through the cloth. ' Tamina..' He uttered, breaking the silence. ' Have you ever wondered about other times? Other worlds? '

From her slumber she arose, before rolling over onto her less dominant side to come face to face with him. A slight frown teased her lips, before she huffed and seceded to the inquiry at hand. Having her head come to rest against his chest, before her own gaze peeled up at the moon as well. 

❝It is nearly drawing late, and now you pick to ask this question, you are hopeless Dastan. I suppose it has glossed my mind a few times. Why do you ask? ❞

[amortean]

kakolookiyam replied to your post

please return those to his desk

...... bounces a paperweight in her hand and lobs it

at his face

[templiere-blog]

▲ = ABOUT USING GOOGLE TRANSLATE.

send me ▲ for an unpopular opinion

My opinion on using Google translate: Do. Not. Use. It. Ever.

Yes, it has it’s uses for short phrases and words you might need in a different language, but I can guarantee that 90% of the time it’s going to be really off, and pretty obvious to anybody who knows the language. Trust me, people who speak whatever language you’re trying to use, or who are at least a little bit familiar with it, are going to either laugh or cringe when they see the google translated version of something on dash. It’s that obvious, believe me. Now, if you want to use google translate in any capacity, don’t use it as your final source for a word, look it up in an online dictionary, try and find as many resources for the word as possible, and if you can, ask a native speaker. I guarantee that whoever that person is would be more than happy to help you, believe me, they’ll be glad you aren’t just going off of Google translate’s version. I know for me, who doesn’t speak a word of French other than ‘Je suis calme' (thank you duolingo), asking my friends for help is never an issue, and they're always more than willing to help. Now as someone who is familiar with high school level Spanish (aka really really watered down Spanish, like I'm no expert trust me), and a tiny bit of Arabic through familial exposure, I can definitely tell when someone is using translate for either language.

From personal experience alone, I can tell you, using google translate is not good.There have been so many times where I’ve looked at a post, and had to scratch my head wondering as to why they were saying that, what they were trying to say, and why in the hell did they use that wording, one instance in particular, though, further reiterates my point about using translate. Waaay back when I first started my Aveline account, I was roleplaying with someone whose character was Spanish. Naturally, they had the character speak Spanish to Aveline, and they said to her ‘buenas noches, angulos encantadores.’ For the most part, the wording of the phrase is really off, and as kakolookiyam pointed out to me, doesn’t really make sense context wise? It’s not necessarily wrong, but just an odd way to say it. The biggest, most blaring mistake, is the really obvious typo they must have made while they were trying to translate this, and because they used google translate, it was pretty unforgiving an didn’t correct them or change it to something that would make sense, and just translated what they put. The word ‘angulo’ is definitely different than the word 'ángel,' as in you use one for math, and the other is a divine being, unless of course, they really do call people charming angles.

There are other instances where it becomes obvious the person’s using translate not from the wording itself, but just the lack of knowledge on syntax and punctuation? Now this isn’t to single anybody out in particular, but Arabic is the only other language I can sort of know what’s going on with, and I do see some people using Arabic on dash, and it’s pretty obvious to me that they’re not native speakers, and are using translate. So I’m going to just give a basic run down of things that I actually do know about Arabic, even though I’m not fluent in any way shape or form. Despite my family being native speakers and all that, my Arabic is limited to like three words, but I do remember very clearly my jido sitting down with me and teaching me the Arabic alphabet and basic rules of the language. For starters, Arabic is not like English, it is a completely different letter system and has different rules as far as word structure goes. Arabic is read from right to left, not left to right, and here’s how I can tell people are using translate. When they put the translated sentence in, they add the punctuation afterwards, but it’s on the wrong side. For example (and yeah I’m using translate for this, but I don’t have an Arabic keyboard so bear with me) the sentence should look like this:

'مرحبا، كيف حالك؟'

Note how the question mark is different, as is the comma, and that if you read it from right to left, it is a super rough translation of ‘hello, how are you?’ What I usually see instead is this:

'مرحبا كيف ,حالك?'

This reads as ‘?hello how are, you’ when read from right to left, and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense punctuation wise. If you were reading it the way you read English, as in left to right, it’s ‘you, are how hello?’ which, unless your character is some kind of Middle Eastern Yoda, doesn’t work. This also applies to two sentences in a row, once again, look at the punctuation, it should be like this:

’.حافظ على الهدوء. حمل’

Not this:

'حافظ على الهدوء .حمل.'

Google also tends to leave out the vowel marks when it converts the English into calligraphy, the only reason I know this is because when I translated my own name (just for fun and because I actually do know how to write that), it didn’t have any of those that are used in formal calligraphy. So my advice to anyone who wants to use Arabic in a reply but doesn’t know how to speak it, or write it:  don’t use it. It’s a super complex language, and is actually one of the hardest languages for native English speakers to learn, and I get that it’s just rp and stuff, but like calligraphy is something Arabs are super proud of, and is often regarded as an art form. To use it incorrectly is kind of, I don’t want to say insulting or offensive because those are too strong, but let’s just go with bad. I get that it’s pretty, and that if your character is Arab, you want to show it, but even if you put their dialogue in English, it can be assumed that they’re speaking Arabic. There are also several regional differences in the language and it’s all dependent on where you’re from as to how you speak it. Like someone from Lebanon is going to speak differently than someone from Egypt, if two people from Lebanon and Egypt were to speak to each other, they could still understand one another, but certain words and pronunciations will be different. Think of it like Spanish, where the accent for words and certain words are different in Cuba, than they are in Mexico, and even in Mexico itself, depending on what region you’re from, the language is a bit different. If you really really need to use Arabic for whatever reason, make sure you’re using multiple sources to look up the correct calligraphy, or instead of calligraphy use the English alphabet version of it, like with ‘thank you’ don’t use شكرا, say ‘shukran’ instead. It flows a lot easier, and won’t be the google translate version of the calligraphy, and is probably more right.  

So to make a long story short: don’t use translate for anything. Look it up through other sources, ask your friends, anything, just please, don’t use translate. 

[sxmniarchive]

Five times kissed -- i have no clue how this would work but here you go.

send five times kissed & i'll write a drabble on five times our muses kissed o vo

       rescue.

     ❝ Are you hurt ? ❞ the stranger asks as they come to a sudden stop, and she barely manages to prevent herself from barreling into him. Aurora gasps for air in their brief respite, her heart racing with fear & exhaustion. She's covered in dirt and she's been scratched by more than one obstacle tonight---- but she, for the most part, is unhurt. Perhaps it's the adrenaline that makes her feel that way, however.

     She dimly realizes that he intends for her to answer---- another sharp inhalation in an attempt to shake this breathlessness from her weary frame. Aurora shakes her head wildly, tangled locks sprawling out across her shoulders. ❝ n-- no. ❞

     There's relief in his expression, despite the fact that she's sure they've never met before. Why has he saved her ? Aurora stares at the man ---- has father finally hired a sellsword to pursue her captors ? ...Perhaps he notices her pointed stare, and he smiles a little bit sheepishly. 

                 ❝ Forgive me, ❞ he says, and he takes her smaller hand in his. He presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles in greeting, continuing, ❝ I should introduce myself. I am-- ❞ A sudden pause, and he tenses, gaze settling on something behind her in the alleyway they've ducked into. 

                                               ❝ We have to leave. Now. ❞

        travels.

     She suffers on the long journey home. In the expanse of a month Aurora has gone from princess to captive to vagabond. Dressed in rags, she's trudged what she can only assume to be dozens of miles with Dastan on foot. There's one evening where she becomes so miserably exhausted that the delicate girl collapses mid-step. He takes care of her that night, nurses her back to health.

      At one point, she thinks she recalls his lips pressed upon her forehead.

        injuries.

      There's an evening in their travels where the men who took her find them. She hadn't realized before this evening that he was such an accomplished fighter-- yet despite his ability to dissuade their pursuers, he doesn't escape unharmed. She bandages him that evening to the best of her ability, and she kisses the bandage that she wraps about his arm too.

        camaraderie.

      They become friends. Why wouldn't they ? Aurora's kind, and he can be quite friendly. They sit beside the fire, laughing at the hardships they've faced and musing about what else might await them on their travels. She rests on his shoulder for comfort, and he kisses the top of her head.

        gratitude. 

      Feeling properly clean for the first time in forever is amazing. Aurora, with her hair no longer in tangles and her dresses clean and made of silks approaches Dastan with high spirits and simple relief at having been returned home. He doesn't seem as at-ease in her father's kingdom, however.

      Little princess perches upon the balcony beside Dastan, she supposes he intends to leave soon. ❝ I do not think I could ever repay you properly for saving me. ❞ 

      ❝ There is no need to. ❞

      She kisses his cheek. 

[alamxt]

Chin & waist

Touch my muse! Touching is a quiet way of conveying your feelings, so tell me how you feel with your touch!

Waist:Possessiveness/”You are mine.

Chin:Beauty/attractiveness

❝I always knew that you did have felt a  particular way about me Dastan, but never imagine this. ❞