This subject line was eaten by a grue.
Nov. 8th, 2009 01:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stillsostrangeThe Bone Palace
84023 / 100000 words. 84% done!
The winner of the costume/story contest is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
desperance, since I used a good chunk of his idea. My version--as well as an excellent example of how I avoid naming things as long as possible--goes like this.
In Selafai, brides wore red--the color of life and life's blood, virgin's blood, the blood of childbed, blood comingled in children. A color of fertility and fruitful unions. Veils had mostly gone out of fashion, and those who wore them still usually chose gold or silver, or more crimson if their complexions could stand it. Black veils had been made famous decades earlier by the playwright Kharybdea, who chose the color for X in the tragedy Y, the priestess who was broke her vows for love of Z, only to be betrayed and abandoned on their wedding night, after he had stolen her temple's greatest treasure. She killed herself on her saint's altar, and haunted Z in revenge, driving him to madness and finally death. It was probably the most relentlessly miserable story Savedra had ever seen on stage. It took a woman of morbid or vicious humor to dress as X for a masque; that three had done so tonight would surely be called an ill omen.
Now if someone wants to name X, Y, and Z, I'll be all set.
I've had anxiety dreams the past two nights. First I was trying to find a dress in a store full of hundreds of gorgeous dresses, but none of them fit, and the store was about to close, and my friends had already bought theirs. Then last night assassins broke into my apartment and I had to fight them off with a kitchen knife, then was stuck in the apartment with their not-quite-dead bodies waiting for help to arrive. (I got in a surprising amount of violence, since my dreams are the slow-running, crawling-through-peanut-butter kind, with any physical action muted and completely non-tactile.)
Yes, subconscious, I know we have a deadline. Anxiety dreams won't make it any better.
The winner of the costume/story contest is
desperance, since I used a good chunk of his idea. My version--as well as an excellent example of how I avoid naming things as long as possible--goes like this.In Selafai, brides wore red--the color of life and life's blood, virgin's blood, the blood of childbed, blood comingled in children. A color of fertility and fruitful unions. Veils had mostly gone out of fashion, and those who wore them still usually chose gold or silver, or more crimson if their complexions could stand it. Black veils had been made famous decades earlier by the playwright Kharybdea, who chose the color for X in the tragedy Y, the priestess who was broke her vows for love of Z, only to be betrayed and abandoned on their wedding night, after he had stolen her temple's greatest treasure. She killed herself on her saint's altar, and haunted Z in revenge, driving him to madness and finally death. It was probably the most relentlessly miserable story Savedra had ever seen on stage. It took a woman of morbid or vicious humor to dress as X for a masque; that three had done so tonight would surely be called an ill omen.
Now if someone wants to name X, Y, and Z, I'll be all set.
I've had anxiety dreams the past two nights. First I was trying to find a dress in a store full of hundreds of gorgeous dresses, but none of them fit, and the store was about to close, and my friends had already bought theirs. Then last night assassins broke into my apartment and I had to fight them off with a kitchen knife, then was stuck in the apartment with their not-quite-dead bodies waiting for help to arrive. (I got in a surprising amount of violence, since my dreams are the slow-running, crawling-through-peanut-butter kind, with any physical action muted and completely non-tactile.)
Yes, subconscious, I know we have a deadline. Anxiety dreams won't make it any better.
