Arctic air condensed as white smoke filling the underground dark Onyx stone Chambers. The stone was cold as ice, slippery and pit black. The cavern formation underneath the snow fields was the coldest place within the nation. Part of the carved stones made to simulate pointed arched walls where covered by pyramid form crystal ice on floor and ceiling. The main current of air moving the cold mist through the different natural corridors or small rooms, revealing entire walls, covered in different precious gemstones, as Tanzanite, Amethyst, Lapis lazuli and Zircon; all preserved in their natural state on the semi circular formation. However, several if not most of the other small chambers and rooms where pure Onyx with layers of ice. This spaces held inside beautiful ebony furniture collections: Hand carved chairs and matching tables or desks, frames of folding screens and resting couches or small beds. The tables had smooth silks of light colors to cover them from the extreme temperatures, the couches and small beds were filled and covered with alpaca white fur, and many other different species of fur as cushions, blankets or carpets. But, the main bed that belonged to the owner of such dreamy chambers was pure ebony wood carved in circular form with two realistic looking wings as the borders surrounding it, heading the masterpiece with the long neck of a swan folded gently to one side. The insides of the bed were made by swans feathers for the pillows and alpaca's white fur for the blanket. Over the swan bed, falling from the stone ceiling, cascade a black lace over velvet veil.
On the insides of the veil, resting in pure darkness, a breath of air was inhaled from a dead body awakening alive. The pale lids were still closed framed in dark black brows and long curved lashes, which waved by the few blinks the sleeping creature did when awoke from the long dream. The soft cherry lips opened a slit from where the air entered the empty body filling it with the iced air.
The veil was lifted, revealing in the center of the white fur an almost indistinguishably pale face with long wavy cascading black locks of hair. Although, the scene so far seemed to be breathtaking enough for any mortal eye, it had yet to meet the light slate gray eyes popping wide open from the petite doll face.
It took Luthiem several minutes to leave the comfy of her swan bed. The stone room was now lit by the silver light of a hand chandelier of three white and long candles. Her steps could not be heard as she walked over the fur covered stone to the Bath, which, to be more accurate, was more an underground aqua lightened lagoon under white crustal stalagmites that reflected the light of the candles creating an ghostly auroral ray. Her night gown of Roman style gauze fell to the smooth stone floor when she untied the lock over her right shoulder. Her long legs took her to the border of the water, letting her feet inside the cold water, which climbed in temperature as she commanded so, not too hot, yet not too cold, a perfect balance according to her taste. The waters licked in welcome her body as she submerged herself inside, swimming a few yards away to emerge again over surface, allowing the water strings she created to wash away any impurity on her skin and hair.
. . .
A white Victorian blouse with long puffy sleeves and ruffles cascading from the short turtle neck with a pinned dark background and white rose cameo was covering her chest, over it, a white satin underbust black laced corset stopping at the end of her hips was tightly tied up covering a long white gauze ruffled skirt and a black long scarf used around her hips over the corset. These where her wears by the time Luthiem entered the small circular stone formation which walls were encrusted with smooth mirrors. The diamond bracelet that never left her wrist was shining brightly in the mirrors room, filling it with sparkling light while she approved over her attire and walked outside to her bedroom to grab the long and thick black fur cape with the blue rose brooch that was now placed over her shoulders as she ascended the spiral stairs that leaded to the Castle.
Once arrived in the surface, where the moon could greet her with the touch of her light silver rays followed by the gently bows and salutes from the servants and maids. Her pace sped up through the hallways and corridors, climbing stairs and opening wide doors and doors till she reached the double hand-carved doors of the Throne Hall that were now standing before her. Both hands over the white gold handlers, proceeding to twist them and step into the magnificent Hall.
- Mood:
Adoration - Listening to: Goodbye blood and roses - Malice Mizer
- Reading: Luthiem's journals.
- Watching: The screen?
- Eating: nothing T^T
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Lulu-land! ~ Rosenblau Garten...
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Anya, the crazy hat lady!
I take commissions on hats, dreadfalls and portraits!! Note me. ;D
"Chase the morning, yield for nothing." - Sarah Brightman in Repo! The Genetic Opera
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--Artist is not the lable you wear...not the style you have...Nor the thing you do...it is the very fabric of your existence...To deny it would be foolish, to embrace it is freedom, to steal it is certain and sudden death.
[link]
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Lulu-land! ~ Rosenblau Garten...
--
--Artist is not the lable you wear...not the style you have...Nor the thing you do...it is the very fabric of your existence...To deny it would be foolish, to embrace it is freedom, to steal it is certain and sudden death.
whats up?
i like your work
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