Entry tags:
brack water - a verse novel | WIP
They had no rank of which it was worth speaking, none at all.
Now they rule the kingdom, supreme, supreme.
Perhaps her father more so than her.
Perhaps.
Perhaps.
*
They had no rank, but the magic would serve them
and it served them well.
Trees would bow down and waters would part,
the way viscounts and dukes bow to them now,
the way princesses part their legs in a ripple of skirts.
The prince who would become hers, first,
ascends the throne and becomes her father’s, next.
The crown placed upon his head is a puppeteer’s control,
she leaves her father to handle him,
to go to the forest herself.
Thus, the young queen goes to the lake every day,
her reflection in the surface unchanging,
opal eyes,
dark hair,
black swan, Odile.
And the real swans, at least for now, know to avoid her.
*
Court is dark, on grey days damp and on sunny days they all burn.
Odile never bores of the games they play,
the nobility, still thinking themselves secret and unseen.
So sweet, so naïve, she would have them
no other way, but she will have them, yes.
Because she, on the other hand, goes unnoticed
as the chirping tit on their windowsill,
a little bird truly told her.
Everything, it told her, everything,
every single word.
The baron would kill the royal advisor,
oh, if just he’d give him an excuse,
he whines to his wife.
Papa, Odile says to her father,
if you’d just give him an excuse.
As it is, the royal advisor gives no excuses,
but the baron stops attending balls
and audiences and has not been seen
for a long time now.
No one wonders,
at least not out loud.
*
Siegfried is a cowering king,
as before he was a pale prince,
almost see-through, almost transparent.
Odile stands beside him, leading his step
with her father towering above,
leading his mind, the line of his sight.
He doesn’t know where to look anymore,
so he turns where he’s told,
with his eyes closed.
They go to bed among shadows,
when midnight has come and gone,
and only when Odile has come
and gone, too.
She never yields her place
above him, straddling his hips,
for she, like the demon, Lilith,
does not make herself subservient to any man.
Pleasure is brief and she leaves him
in the aftermath of it,
with every incantation and spell she knows
that will prevent his seed from growing in her.
Odile does not make herself subservient
to any other living creature either.
Now they rule the kingdom, supreme, supreme.
Perhaps her father more so than her.
Perhaps.
Perhaps.
They had no rank, but the magic would serve them
and it served them well.
Trees would bow down and waters would part,
the way viscounts and dukes bow to them now,
the way princesses part their legs in a ripple of skirts.
The prince who would become hers, first,
ascends the throne and becomes her father’s, next.
The crown placed upon his head is a puppeteer’s control,
she leaves her father to handle him,
to go to the forest herself.
Thus, the young queen goes to the lake every day,
her reflection in the surface unchanging,
opal eyes,
dark hair,
black swan, Odile.
And the real swans, at least for now, know to avoid her.
Court is dark, on grey days damp and on sunny days they all burn.
Odile never bores of the games they play,
the nobility, still thinking themselves secret and unseen.
So sweet, so naïve, she would have them
no other way, but she will have them, yes.
Because she, on the other hand, goes unnoticed
as the chirping tit on their windowsill,
a little bird truly told her.
Everything, it told her, everything,
every single word.
The baron would kill the royal advisor,
oh, if just he’d give him an excuse,
he whines to his wife.
Papa, Odile says to her father,
if you’d just give him an excuse.
As it is, the royal advisor gives no excuses,
but the baron stops attending balls
and audiences and has not been seen
for a long time now.
No one wonders,
at least not out loud.
Siegfried is a cowering king,
as before he was a pale prince,
almost see-through, almost transparent.
Odile stands beside him, leading his step
with her father towering above,
leading his mind, the line of his sight.
He doesn’t know where to look anymore,
so he turns where he’s told,
with his eyes closed.
They go to bed among shadows,
when midnight has come and gone,
and only when Odile has come
and gone, too.
She never yields her place
above him, straddling his hips,
for she, like the demon, Lilith,
does not make herself subservient to any man.
Pleasure is brief and she leaves him
in the aftermath of it,
with every incantation and spell she knows
that will prevent his seed from growing in her.
Odile does not make herself subservient
to any other living creature either.
Entry tags:
tracker |
texting; laurent.
texting; margaery.
texting; jeyne.
texting; jon snow.
texting; robb stark.
thoughts; anon.
six word stories; tomas.
shipping picture prompts; laurent.
shipping picture prompts; jon snow.
unpopular opinions; kim wexler.
unpopular opinions; castiel.
first impressions; nana.
tag three new people; cricket.
playlist |
 BUT YOU'LL ALL GET YOURS. — KING (florence + the machine); LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO (taylor swift); DARK HORSE (katy perry); LIKE IT OR NOT (madonna); ANIMAL (aurora); KATIE CRUEL (agnes obel); KINGS AND QUEENS (ava max); A LITTLE WICKED (valerie broussard); CIRCUS (britney spears); JOLENE (hildegard von blingin'); POKER FACE (lady gaga); MASTER OF PUPPETS (robyn adele anderson). |
Entry tags:
visuals |
when i first came to town / they called me roving jewel / now they've changed their tune
call me katie cruel.
call me katie cruel.
Entry tags:
info |
She's her father's daughter.
But before all else, she's her own.
He wields magic, so does she, but they're not the same. Rothbart takes the shape of an owl, while she doesn't limit herself so needlessly, owls, tits, meadowlarks and geese, she can transform into a bit of everything. With his help, she can transform into her.
The Swan Queen.
The idea is his, of course. Hers are more erratic, she's a joker if anything. The power shall be mine, he tells her one day before nightfall, this man who already advises courts, and he makes her turn in a circle in front of him. By the end of it, her features that were already similar are now the same. Her neck is long and elegant and frail, her eyes hold lake water that isn't brackish. My black swan, he says.
She laughs. Before all else, she's her own.
He leads her to the ball and he advises her every step, but she takes them by her own accord. She dances with the prince, she turns his head and she catches his eyes, so he forgets to look anywhere else. She is a swan, although it is the one bird she never transforms into otherwise, and she is Odette but not. The prince doesn't see through the smoke and the mirrors. Her father doesn't let up before it's too late.
Promises broken are what Odile eats for breakfast. This one, too, she swallows down and it nourishes her.
Her father and her, they leave together. What they leave behind is turmoil and tragedy.
The stuff they eat for lunch and dinner.
But before all else, she's her own.
He wields magic, so does she, but they're not the same. Rothbart takes the shape of an owl, while she doesn't limit herself so needlessly, owls, tits, meadowlarks and geese, she can transform into a bit of everything. With his help, she can transform into her.
The Swan Queen.
The idea is his, of course. Hers are more erratic, she's a joker if anything. The power shall be mine, he tells her one day before nightfall, this man who already advises courts, and he makes her turn in a circle in front of him. By the end of it, her features that were already similar are now the same. Her neck is long and elegant and frail, her eyes hold lake water that isn't brackish. My black swan, he says.
She laughs. Before all else, she's her own.
He leads her to the ball and he advises her every step, but she takes them by her own accord. She dances with the prince, she turns his head and she catches his eyes, so he forgets to look anywhere else. She is a swan, although it is the one bird she never transforms into otherwise, and she is Odette but not. The prince doesn't see through the smoke and the mirrors. Her father doesn't let up before it's too late.
Promises broken are what Odile eats for breakfast. This one, too, she swallows down and it nourishes her.
Her father and her, they leave together. What they leave behind is turmoil and tragedy.
The stuff they eat for lunch and dinner.
Entry tags:
permissions |
PLAYER
NAME: S.
CONTACT: PM to this journal, ask for plurk.
ACTIVE TIMES/PACE: CEST/CET, usually online my evenings, rarely my nights, thus pretty slow with tags, though I strive for one tag per day at the least.
BRACKETS/PROSE: Brackets preference. Will match, however.
OFFENSIVE SUBJECTS & TRIGGERS: N/A.
CONTACT: PM to this journal, ask for plurk.
ACTIVE TIMES/PACE: CEST/CET, usually online my evenings, rarely my nights, thus pretty slow with tags, though I strive for one tag per day at the least.
BRACKETS/PROSE: Brackets preference. Will match, however.
OFFENSIVE SUBJECTS & TRIGGERS: N/A.
IN CHARACTER
PHYSICAL AFFECTION: Very generous with physical affection, though she prefers to decide when and how she receives it.
PHYSICAL VIOLENCE: Minor things are fine, ask before major injury. As she has some magical and shapeshifting abilities, she can also be difficult to outmaneuver.
RELATIONSHIPS: F/M & F/F both fine. I generally play her as having had something with Odette as well as Siegfried.
PSYCHIC & PSIONIC INFORMATION: Ask.
MAGICAL INFORMATION: As the daughter of a strong sorcerer, Odile has some magical abilities herself, most notably the ability to shapeshift into various bird shapes.
OFFENSIVE SUBJECTS & TRIGGERS: None come to mind. If anything rubs you the wrong way, let me know.
PHYSICAL VIOLENCE: Minor things are fine, ask before major injury. As she has some magical and shapeshifting abilities, she can also be difficult to outmaneuver.
RELATIONSHIPS: F/M & F/F both fine. I generally play her as having had something with Odette as well as Siegfried.
PSYCHIC & PSIONIC INFORMATION: Ask.
MAGICAL INFORMATION: As the daughter of a strong sorcerer, Odile has some magical abilities herself, most notably the ability to shapeshift into various bird shapes.
OFFENSIVE SUBJECTS & TRIGGERS: None come to mind. If anything rubs you the wrong way, let me know.
OUT OF CHARACTER
BACKTAGGING: Will try and backtag as much as possible, but due to RL I can lose drive and/or interest sometimes.
THREADHOPPING: Sure, if everyone's in on it.
FOURTHWALLING: Go for it.
NOT INTERESTED IN: Writing smut.
THREADHOPPING: Sure, if everyone's in on it.
FOURTHWALLING: Go for it.
NOT INTERESTED IN: Writing smut.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
VISUAL: A long-limbed, slender woman with dark hair, dark eyes.
AURAL: Light and breathy, sounds a little bit like she's chirping when she talks.
OLFACTORY: Expensive perfumes with an undercurrent of forest and air.
DEMEANOUR: She is the daughter of the advisor to the queen, a powerful sorcerer, and knows her worth as such. Is seductive and scheming, the OG femme fatale.
AURAL: Light and breathy, sounds a little bit like she's chirping when she talks.
OLFACTORY: Expensive perfumes with an undercurrent of forest and air.
DEMEANOUR: She is the daughter of the advisor to the queen, a powerful sorcerer, and knows her worth as such. Is seductive and scheming, the OG femme fatale.
☆ code by kimmiserate ☆