#guards! guards!

Lady Sybil Ramkin sat off to one side, wearing a few acres of black velvet. The Ramkin family jewels glittered in her fingers, neck and in the black curls of today's wig. The total effect was striking, like a globe of the heavens.

Guards! Guards! - Terry Pratchett

Here it is to live on my blog and yours forever:

Even shorn of her layers of protective clothing, Lady Sybil Ramkin was still toweringly big. Vimes knew that the barbarian hublander folk had legends about great chain-mailed, armor-bra’d, carthorse-riding maidens who swooped down on battlefields and carried off dead warriors on their cropper to a glorious roistering afterlife, while singing in a pleasing mezzo-soprano. Lady Ramkin could have been one of them. She could have led them. She could have carried off a battalion. When she spoke, every word was like a hearty slap on the back and clanged with the aristocratic self-assurance of the totally well-bred. The vowel sounds alone would have cut teak.

Vimes’s ragged forebears were used to voices like that, usually from heavily-armored people on the back of a war charger, telling them why it would be a jolly good idea, don’tcherknow, to charge the enemy and hit them for six. His legs wanted to stand to attention.

Prehistoric men would have worshiped her, and in fact had amazingly managed to carve life like statues of her thousands of years ago.

For the this year's celebration of the Glorious 25th of May let me present to you my latest project.

Lady's Sybil Ramkin leather corset for a stage adaptation of sir Terry Pratchett's Guards! Guards! From sketch to final costume with lovely Errol the Dragon.

Corset made from genuine textured sheepskin and a lots of brass details like buckles, eyelets and studs. Straps has functional buckles and can be adjusted if necessary. Corset has cotton lining with lilac blossom print (I'm not sorry, I can't help myself, I wouldn't miss this chance for a little Easter hard-boiled egg). All creative processes was under strict supervision of my copilot Jarvis, as usual.

Lady Ramkin made herself a cup of cocoa and listened to the rain gurgling in the pipes outside. She slipped off the hated dancing shoes, which even she was prepared to concede were like a pair of pink canoes. But nobbyless obligay, as the funny little sergeant would say, and as the last representative of one of Ankh-Morpork’s oldest families she’d had to go to the victory ball to show willing. Lord Vetinari seldom had balls. There was a popular song about it, in fact. But now it was going to be balls all the way.

lol.

also, i have a headcanon that at some point, vetinari is compelled to organize some kind of ball, but it turns out the facilities at the palace just aren't up to snuff at all. perhaps he's left them in disrepair ever since the Dragon Incident -- really! that long! or just uses it as extra storage space. there's some bits & pieces about him maintaining the Bloody Stupid Johnson garden, and the zoo, and the racehorse stable, just because he's reluctant to change things; & that he keeps leonard around just because he likes hanging onto anything that might be useful later. so i think the palace unfortunately has a bit of an Old Furniture Problem bc vetinari is not in favor of throwing things out. thus -- it ends up in the ballroom. thus -- there is no ballroom, so much as there's a very big, fancy storage room

so, anyway, upon being compelled to arrange a ball for visiting dignitaries, he's got no place to put it. luckily, it turns out sybil, although about as much of a packrat, has managed to maintain a fairly decent ballroom at ramkin manor, it'll be lovely with a bit of fresh paint & some airing out (to get rid of the dragon smell). it's a great idea. the big fancy ball goes great. vimes shows up for about half the night before slinking off, sybil charms everyone to bits, vimes & sybil & vetinari are all sort of in the capacity of being each other's plus-ones...