──✦ Introducing... ˎˊ˗
INTRODUCTION
WANTED CONNECTIONS & PLOTS
VISAGE
THREADS
DOSSIER
MUSE
INTRODUCTION
WANTED CONNECTIONS & PLOTS
VISAGE
THREADS
DOSSIER
MUSE
INTRODUCTION
WANTED CONNECTIONS & PLOTS
VISAGE
THREADS
DOSSIER
MUSE
styofa doing anything

Kiana Khansmith

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

JVL
dirt enthusiast
art blog(derogatory)

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
h


Discoholic 🪩
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Three Goblin Art
todays bird
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Andulka
NASA
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Claire Keane

seen from France
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from South Korea

seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Philippines

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from Spain
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@nexiliis
──✦ Introducing... ˎˊ˗
INTRODUCTION
WANTED CONNECTIONS & PLOTS
VISAGE
THREADS
DOSSIER
MUSE
INTRODUCTION
WANTED CONNECTIONS & PLOTS
VISAGE
THREADS
DOSSIER
MUSE
INTRODUCTION
WANTED CONNECTIONS & PLOTS
VISAGE
THREADS
DOSSIER
MUSE

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TENSIONS REMAINED DESPITE KNOWING KAVIKA DAS WAS NOT SOMEONE THAT PIET HAD EVER TAKEN ISSUE WITH YET DESPITE THAT BEING TRUE THE NATURALLY SUSPICIOUS NATURE SURGED. It mattered not that Kavika was of nobility or of high status before that as the fact remained that there was an intruder on the premises and nobody of any status would be exempt from caution or suspicion.
Had any of the dubitation felt ebbed away upon seeing the Lady Das then it fast returned with more alarm in the act of the words spoken in defence of the covert attempts. "Had you come to me with an honest approach there would be little need of this sneaking around or the insult of intruding on my business in this late hour.” Placid countenance proved the best course of action but in spite of it eyes of caution gave away the true feeling upon hearing the word pirate. “I would not be a good muse to the items you have listed for your subject and I find it insulting that you would disparage my character by diminishing my life here to a familial rivalry and further cause harm by inferring a pirate shares any similarity with me. I hope that you are lying and have some other reason to being here and if not I should not have you here again.”
Lady Kavika Das...
“I swear! Do you wish to see my notes?” Kavika began rummaging in her cloak for the book and pencil she kept on her person. “Here, see for yourself,” she presented the book. It was the one actually filled with ideas for novels which she kept regularly as opposed to the other notebook which she obviously cannot present to the Dock Owner.
“I find that people are less forthcoming when I tell them, and then there are the ones who inflate everything and ruin the perspective because they believe it’s going to paint them in a negative light.” She huffs. “Much like your stance now. It’s not like I plan on naming the characters after their inspiration. Any parallels that can be drawn shall not be my fault. I cannot control what people think!” People and their egos are a pain, she really shouldn’t be one to complain, but she needs it to sell this story to Mr. Drake.
“You and your character have nothing to worry about anyway. This will never be published if my parents have any say. I’m determined, but not a sorceress." If this were what she truly wanted to do there was no way she would be allowed to do so, along with her secret detective career. “Society isn’t exactly supportive of women who wield pens or have an ounce of gumption. This is why I’ve been in search of Lady Whistledown,” she admits a bit defeatedly. Publicly she’s already been called out by the author for digging into her identity. “I was following a lead.”
MICHAEL B. JORDAN 📷 New York Magazine's Hollywood Issue (2025)
Arthur watched her quietly. He knew this was a struggle for all of them. He knew it was complicated. In the back of his mind, he also knew that if he had moved sooner, things would be different, perhaps he could have prevented the entire mess.
He placed his hand back down at his side, eyes still on his wife. "Alisa..." he said quietly. The two of them never really had a fight about withholding secrets or sharing information. Alisa knew him well, and suddenly he was confused. He furrowed his brow a bit and frowned. "What are you not telling me?" he asked her. His voice was gentle, but there was a more stern undertone to it.
His hand moved up to his face to rub his chin. It concerned him even more. "Alisa, tell me everything. What did he do now?"
Queen Alisa...
After the Oskar revelation she’s not sure how much more interference from her father she can take. At least their experience with Oskar turned out to be positive. Now, he’s one of the people in their lives who they can wholeheartedly trust. “I know we’ve already been through a lot with Oskar, but I’m at wits end with what to do.” It’s been established between Arthur and Alisa that her father is not a good man, never was, and never will be.
Coming clean to her husband, though ill-advised, may be the only card she has left to play. Arthur has not given her any reason to believe he would think any differently of her, but he doesn’t know everything, and she always weighs that when she feels the urge to tell all.
“My father has been making me spy on things here at court, then report back to him,” she began, diving headfirst into it before she loses the nerve to do so. “I have tried ignoring him, but when I stopped correspondence, he made threats…” When her father gets angry, the decisions he makes aren’t the best for anyone involved, including himself. “I will do whatever I have to do, to keep us safe,” she says in lieu of explaining the consequences of crossing her father.
“Every now and then, mixed in with the truth, I feed him false information.” Whether or not he has caught on yet, is up in the air. “He has a network, and Oskar may not be the only person he has planted in my life. There could be many more.” Knowing her father, there definitely is as he rarely leaves any stone unturned. “He is like the hydra from the stories– chop off one head, and two may sprout in its place,” she used her hands for emphasis while speaking.
MAI DAVIKA for bvlgari

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|| open starter || Riya
|| LOCATION || The Barnett Gemstone Ball
She had seen many grand things. Imposing towers and ancient architecture. People of all ages, sizes, cultures. And yet, seeing the grandeur of the Barnett foyer and ballroom was something to tell. Jewels adorned the walls, reflecting off the marbled flooring. Everyone was dressed to the nines and glittered beneath the soft lighting of the room.
Riya was astonished. She felt as if she could fit right in alongside the uppity folks here in Mayfair. Approaching the drinks table, she poured herself a small glass of punch, trailing her eyes along the finger foods. A multi-layered tray filled with desserts reminiscent of gems. Emeralds, topaz, alexandrite, jade, opal, and others she could not quite name. They were much too beautiful to dare eat, though people were snagging them with a quickness.
Feeling someone beside her, she smiled sheepishly. She wasn't always bashful unless it truly mattered. "Is it obvious how much I am enjoying all of this?"
Queen Alisa...
“Very! But that is quite refreshing to witness,” she easily comments. It was the truth, one of her favourite things to see was someone’s face as they attended their first ball. The excitement, the joy, and everything else in between. That hopefulness is something the Queen Consort wished that people would draw on from time to time, but life doesn’t always grant such lighthearted moments. “A lot of the crowd is usually either unimpressed, jealous, judgemental, or annoyed that their latest ploy bore no fruit.”
Katherine had been receiving letters from one Angelique Renoir for months now, starting after the previous season ended. In the letter she had been told many sweet and beautiful things, things that clearly were meant to flatter Katherine. Never one to turn down flattery, she responded. And it turned into many letters exchanged, to the point that Katherine even began to look forward to getting the letters. She would brag about how she had the attention of a beautiful Lady, and she was bound to marry her one day. The only problem, they had never actually even met... Until finally Angelique revealed she wanted to meet in the garden, at the Gemstone Ball.
When she got the note from the Ruby Confessional, Kitty quickly rushed to the bathroom to reapply some perfume and adjusted her dress. Lady Angelique Renoir was sophisticated, funny, charming, and promised her the world. This had to go perfectly.
At the allotted time, Katherine casually went out to the garden and looked around for the mysterious Angelique. Her heart was racing but her face remained posed and confident like it always did. If things went her way, which they always did, she would end up engaged tonight. Plus, perhaps, a little extra.
Lady Kavika Das...
In the darkness the ridiculous grin Kavika sported on her face succeeded Katherine’s arrival. While her expression may read as jovial, her thoughts were anything but. A sweeping gaze regards the other’s attire; hating to admit the stunning visage, as per usual. The play of rose quartz and jade throughout her outfit certainly befitting of the theme, and tactfully done, unlike some others she’s seen who shall remain nameless.
With every fibre of her being she tried her best to hold it together. The temptation to pop out from her hiding place and start cackling was strong, but she had to wait a bit. Giving Katherine time to marinate before she makes her grand entrance is key. Hopefully, it’ll be soul crushing and embarrassing enough to teach Katherine not to mess with her. Kavika’s time in London has truly brought out a new level of petty, or is it simply Katherine Thorne that triggers a disputatious spirit.
Minutes ticked by while the Das heiress kept to her hiding place. Choosing the moment wisely, Kavika emerges once Katherine’s back is turned. Close enough, both arms reach out to cover Katherine’s eyes from behind. The anonymity must last for a while longer. Living up to her fake identity Kavika addresses her in French along with the accent she practiced; it’ll be fleeting but oh so worth it. That year she spent in France has been the gift that keeps on giving.
“Mon cœur, enchanté! We meet at last.” There is joy conveyed in her tone which is a little breathy with anticipation, for all the wrong reasons. The poetry that flows from her lips is one penned by Angelique to her beloved Katherine from their last correspondence. “Outside the sun / has rolled up her rugs / and night strewn salt / across the sky. My heart is / humming a tune / I haven’t heard in years; / Katherine please be mine!” Kavika recited in her lovely French accent. Then and only then did she let her hands fall to her sides, itching in anticipation for when she’ll turn around.
CHARITHRA CHANDRAN on INSTAGRAM
soft moonlight streams over the garden. RAMÓN BESSETTE leans on the railing from the balcony above, cigar dangling between fingers as he watches the glimmer of the diamond masks circling their prey. in the next breath, the swell of music rings louder, and he straightens, dark gaze landing on the newcomer. // accepting replies
"mind shutting the doors behind you?" the night has dragged onward, and exhaustion clings to ramón's shoulders. but his eyes remain bright, steady. he takes a puff of his cigar, smoke billowing around him as he exhales through his nose.
"if you're seeking a moment of escape, i'm unsure how long it will last." he tips the butt of the cigar over the rail and toward the garden. "diamonds are on the prowl, and i think they may expand their hunt up here."
Lady Kavika Das...
“Oh!” Kavika’s hands flutter to her chest in surprise. Initially, she failed to notice that the room was currently occupied so the voice within threw her off guard. Logically she knew that turning around and finding another space would be ideal, but the footfalls she heard coming closer sent her into action. Deftly, she closed the door behind her. For a moment she stood there silent, listening to ensure that whoever was out there continued along.
Diamonds aren’t who she’s fleeing from, them, she can dispatch in her sleep. Nalan, her brother, on the other hand is a whole other kettle of fish. “I welcome the challenge, always. But everyone has their limits, right?” Kavika muses with a knowing grin. Her approach slows before she gets too close to the gentleman at the balcony. “Is that why you’re up here– diamonds aren’t your thing?”
Open starter: The Gemstone Ball | The Pearl Dance
Katherine did not care much for the softer, quieter dances. They could definitely be intimate but that had to be at the right time with the right person. She much preferred the more energetic dances, dances where she could show off her flirty and playful side. That tended to draw people in much better.
She watched as couples twirled around the floor, softly talking and laughing. A small pout on her face as she turned to the person next to her. "I don't know about you, but I wish the orchestra would play something more lively. This is a ball, where people are meant to dance."
Queen Alisa...
Alisa was happy residing in the shadows as she observed the dancing from varying angles. When not a part of the dancing herself, she took to roaming the perimeter of the ballroom, mostly. Unfortunately, she would rarely go unnoticed for long, and people would revert to their poised dispositions in her presence.
While Alisa intended on being inconspicuous, she could not help the light laughter that bubbles free. Thanks to the commentary from Katherine Thorne, she knows that she will no longer be able to continue lurking. Stepping forward, she continues to insert herself in the conversation. “I am inclined to agree. I do believe the livelier dances are still to come.” By Alisa’s calculations they seem to be carded for after the main meal is served. The person Katherine initially engaged in conversation became flustered, and hastily bowed and excused themselves. “I do hope I have not ruined your chances at a dance with them,” she adds with a gesture towards the disappearing figure.

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|| open starter || Princess Genevieve
|| LOCATION || The Barnett Gemstone Ball
Genevieve was not impressed attending balls anymore. Perhaps when she was a child and marveled at the grandeur chandeliers and elaborate decorations, but now, it was all crude. People with too much money using things they did not need for a gathering that did not matter. It was an agitation, a tumor that would never cease its festering upon people.
It was Edgar who made it all the more better, though. She wouldn't have admitted that she detested balls as much as he did, then he wouldn't have possibly shown up. He would make this an exciting ordeal, something to remember.
The one thing she would give credence to is the fashion. Everyone looked marvelous. There were some people who Genevieve eyed curiously, wondering if they'd gotten dressed in the dark. But aside from those outliers, her gaze remained on the crowd. She spotted someone in particular and approached them. "You are quite the dazzling gem, though I cannot tell which one you are."
Lady Kavika Das...
Capturing the eye of a Princess causes Kavika to subtly adjust her positioning for more her adoring gaze. Balls and parties are truly where Kavika shines. Dressing up and indulging in fashion is one of her favourite things. The best thing is the themes have thus far been in alignment with her expansive wardrobe. “That’s precisely the effect I was going for,” she grins, rather proud of herself. “Thank you, Princess,” she delivers a well-practiced curtsey that comes off naturally.
The play of lighting also has been a big help with portraying the gem’s diverse colouring. The Princess has not been the first person curious as to the gem she’s embodying. “My gem is the intriguing, colour changing, and stunning, Alexandrite!” Kavika has done the gem justice with the similar hues that adorn her hair, hands, ears, and lehenga choli. “Was that on your list of guesses perchance? Only a handful of people have come close in their estimations.”
who: Anyone in the Ton where: The Barnett House(for the gemstone Ball)
Junho could feel the tenseness of everything at the ball. It always surprised him how a simple ball could have tension. He thought balls weren't meant for fun, but no. English society always needed to cause trouble whenever they are. How pitiful. He's settled next to the rows of sweets.
He hadn't even realized he didn't really know anyone. He knew of people, but friendships weren't his strong suit. He can talk and treat people like friends, but that was different from having real friends. It didn't trouble him most days, but being in a social event showed the evidence of it.
He's chewing on a sweet as he looks at the crowd. He felt someone standing next to him, and he slightly perked up and looked over. He was eager to speak to whoever was nearby. "Enjoy yourself this evening?" he always speaks as if he knows the person next to him, whether he actually did or not.
Queen Alisa...
Even the manner in which the sweets are arranged seems thoughtful, matching the hues of the various gems on display tonight. “I am having a splendid evening,” she smiles in turn. “I appreciate you for enquiring.” Judging by his mood, she hopes this is the same for the gentleman.
“You are Mr Lytton, yes?” Alisa presumes, though she is certain that this is the railroad heir, Junho. In the days leading up to balls and other events, many of her days are spent freshening up on members of the Ton. Everyone deserves to feel valued among the kingdom, so she does what she can with the portrait cards and accompanying blurbs. So by the time the event happens, she is kept abreast of who’s who, and knows enough. It usually provides more depth to her people watching, and of course her interactions with the Ton.
She was reluctantly ushered towards the dance floor, a stern hand to her lower back and knees to get her to stand up straighter. Squinting, Harriett looked out onto the space in front of her and glanced around. What was it her older sisters said about a dance card? She looked at the piece of paper tied neatly around her wrist with a pink ribbon and sighed, biting her bottom lip. Well, at least the band was lively enough. Sneaking away to one of her secret hiding places in her own home was not in the cards right now. Or... maybe she could. She turned. "Oh, hello," she blushed.
Queen Alisa...
Alisa recognised someone trying to escape better than anyone. The immediate about-face upon entering, the furtive glances at the exits, the throng of people being tracked so as not to cross paths with them– she knows it all. “Harriett, delighted to see you,” she smiles in greeting, attempting to smooth over the other’s faux pas. It’s bad enough being caught trying to flee, only for it to be compounded by the Queen being the one to bring the escape to a halt. “I was just in search of a Barnett who could accompany me outside.” Neither of them wanted to be stuck in here, putting on a face for the Ton, so why not take a reprieve in the balmy night air? “It seems like I am lucky to have found you. I do hope you are free.”
There was nothing so tedious as being forced to sit upon a dais, watching the party unfold while being a silent spectacle for others to gawk at was not the princess’s idea of a good evening, but she had to endure it. With Nic running away and Arthur’s debts, of course it fell to Alisa and Sophia to maintain the perfect image that was on the verge of breaking. “And what if I intend to come out of it with my dress in disarray and my hair a mess? Will that be a suitable thing for a princess to do or are such scandals only reserved for the males of our family?” When Sophia was bored, her temper was quick and her patience short and tonight was no different. All she had wanted was to enjoy the evening and yet she was to be a silent spectator while her brother and others had all the fun. Such a thing did not seem fair, but that was the way of the world it seemed. “I hear there are masked people who are casting judgement upon others, do you feel brave to hear what the people think of their queen, dear sister?”
Queen Alisa...
There was no ‘winning’ when it came to Sophia, and Alisa has made her peace with that. “Well then, you are free to do what you wish, Princess,” her tight-lipped smile faded before she added: “Disarray and all.” The onus isn’t solely on Sophia to be the paragon of royalty. Regardless of if she meant the statement or not, she should be allowed to be human even if the Ton simply won’t understand or accept it. “Who am I to stand in the way of your intentions?”
Dear sister? Alisa arched a brow, there has been nothing sisterly between them aside from in name only. “My bravery is not in question.” Her peace of mind is another thing altogether. “Why would I volunteer for something that is already a part of my daily life?” Alisa is accustomed to heavy scrutiny, harsh words, and distasteful treatment than her sister-in-law is aware. Despite their inability to gel, Alisa wishes that Sophia will never know such unfortunate circumstances. Ensuring that her match and their family isn’t of that tainted ilk is very important to the Queen Consort. “I fail to see what may be enticing about it. However, do not let that stop you from indulging in the fun.” Alisa is more than okay with being by herself up here for a spell.
Before coming back to London, she’d been the opposite of a wallflower and had too much attention. She’d enjoyed it too. Reveled in it. It led to a much more complicated life though. “Mr Bruce,” she says with a slight dip as she’d seen many of the young ladies do. “It would be a shame to miss out on the dancing especially in my own work. Have you danced yet?”
Mr. Nathaniel Bruce...
“It must feel extraordinary to see your creations among the glittering lights.” The theme of the night’s ball has been woven through everything with thoughtful touches here and there. Everyone has donned their finest and under the shimmering lights they seem to be having a splendid time. “I have taken a turn or two already,” he comments with a smile. He’s looking forward to dancing some more with his wife, and others. “Is the next song to your liking?” The band has been playing quite a repertoire of dances. Aiming to tailor to everyone is a task, but perhaps the song and dance style scheduled next is familiar to them both. “Perhaps we shall dance?”

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Her breath trembled and her hands shook as she gently released his hand, knelt in the dirt at the roots of the tree, and began to dig. It took several minutes, eight years worth of dirt and trauma between her and the treasure she sought. It took several minutes, but she found it.
A small, battered sealskin bag, finely embossed with the crest of her family, water tight after all these years. She had checked the papers just once, only once, after dragging herself from the sea. The night she had spent under this tree with her lineage clutched to her chest, her mind at war with her heart. Leaving them here in the dirt had felt like ripping a part of her heart out and burying that instead. But it had kept her safe. She did not regret it. She would not allow herself to regret it.
Brushing the dirt carefully away, Renata stood and unwound the bindings of the case. She could feel herself falling back into the posture drilled into her since infancy, the straight back and high head of nobility.
“I am the farthest thing from a highwayman you are likely to get, my love.” She said and her voice wavered even if her posture did not. Surely he would still love her. Surely he would find a way to forgive this. He was the best man she had ever known.
“My birth name is not Vitoria. It is Renata.” She took a deep breath and held the papers out to him. “My name is Princess Renata Vitoria Zehra Bruce Saxe-Coburg, daughter of King Alfonse Rafael Davide Saxe-Coburg and Queen Clarisse Maria Zehra Mueller Saxe-Coburg, seventh in line to the Portuguese throne, cousin to Queen Alisa Godwin of England; presumed dead at sea."
Mr. Nathaniel Bruce...
“Wh–” Nathaniel’s confusion rendered him speechless as he watched her digging in the dirt. The sheer determination he read from her actions made him shut up and continue watching. He thought that by letting her unearth whatever she’s searching for would shed some light, but it only deepened the frown upon his brow. Nathaniel took the papers from her, but barely glanced at them. He was trying to wrap his mind around the revelation. “I don’t…wait…” his free hand rubbed over his face for a brief moment.
“You’re a Princess!” Furthermore, she was that Princess whose sad tale he vaguely remembers from years ago. Nathaniel looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Cousin to the Queen?” He echoed. “Fucking hell!” Nathaniel's gaze drops to the papers he held, albeit shakily. There in the black and white was the proof which she had no doubt buried here, his head snapped up then, looking towards the sea. It took a moment for him to connect the dots before he spoke again.
“This is where you…” he was still looking at the water when he spoke. For all the joyous times he’s had at the Cornwall seaside, his wife’s experience was not the same, especially her first. “Why?” His gaze returns to her now, a host of emotions visible. “Why did you hide? You could have returned home.” He knew that meant they would have never met, but he thinks only of the people that have mourned her.
Mr. Nathaniel Bruce...
“Miss Thanvi, it’s a pleasure to see you in attendance.” He greets her with a warm smile. Their paths had crossed weeks prior when he shopped at Thanvi Silks. The modiste’s shop was smaller than others but he found no qualms with the quality of the items. He believed that in time to come, she would certainly make her mark upon the Ton, and possibly grow to rival the other modistes. “Are you happy here in wallflower land, or do you plan on getting a dance card?” He teased.
// @thanvisilks