Thorn and Bone jewelry set by sofiaviolet (Etsy shop here).
Necklace: silver-plated chain, a green agate thorn, and a piece of bone with a garnet drop of blood.
Bracelet: a piece of bone, black onyx leaves, green agate branches, and garnet.
Earrings: bones, green agate thorns, and black onyx leaves on silver-plated leverback findings (which can be swapped for sterling fishhooks if desired).
Click here to bid!
Was there ever a princess? Did a beautiful girl ever fall under a bad fairy's spell, lose herself to curiosity and a spindle? Or was it all a lure to trap young princes, third-born sons, ambitious merchants? A kingdom for the having - simply come through the thorns and kiss the girl!
Ah, the thorns.
They twist tightly around the palace (was there ever a palace, or is the castle-shape just mimicry?), sprawl over the moat, slither thick and spiny across the land. The impenetrable wall of thorns.
When the wind blows, you can hear a soft chiming for miles. Swords and shields, sickles, spears, shears, daggers, slivers of rusting metal thorn-pierced and dangling, glinting in the sun.
A soft chiming - thorn-pierced bones, too, flesh long-gone.
You enter, sword in hand, ready to rescue the princess. The thorns part before you, rustling, let you in just far enough to seal off your escape. They let you in far from their last meal, so as not to alarm you.
And the thorns close in. The thorns tear through your skin. It's the blood they want - you can see it rush through them, dry and cracked vines growing thick and glossy, dark greens and blacks, pulsing with life.
Your life. And hers. If there ever was a princess.
Blood first, all of the blood, and then the flesh, and then the marrow, and it leaves the bones - does not bother to drop them. Leaves them hanging like obscene flowers, long slender thighbones and delicate fingers. Rattling against each other for all time in a susurrus of dry bone.
In the wind, it sounds almost beautiful.
I've been stalled at $1,097.24 for much of the day. *twitch* *twitch*
When you start getting cranky over historical inaccuracies in Facebook quizzes, it's time for more coffee.
Annie: *lists her fandoms, searching for a topic*
Kat: "Oh! Do my favorite Doctor Who pairing: The TARDIS and the suit!"
Everyone: *wary yet quizzical look*
Kat: "See, at night, the Doctor takes off his suit. And puts it in the TARDIS. And they make sweet love all night. And that's how he gets more suits."
This is a really good Blogathon so far, guys. I mean, I am fervently hoping to raise more money! But I am calm and have energy and am relaxed. By this time last year, I was already wanting to punch people. Not trying to write spontaneous fiction while hostessing helps, clearly. And we have a great group. (We do miss slipjig and his hat, though!)
Do the flashbacks ever stop?
They slow. They can stop. They don't always. But they get less and less frequent.
I have not had one in ages. But that doesn't mean I never will again. This one doesn't have an objective answer, unfortunately.