27th Oct: Non-human characters // “Can’t you listen to me?”
Title: Tempest in a Teacup
An angry, forsaken heir to an abandoned throne finds unexpected solace in the form of a captive wild sea creature.
——-
The prince watched from the docks, expression impassive, cold, and unimpressed.
Once again, the armada had returned with the Berserker colors furled up rather than on display - much like a beaten dog crawling to its master, tail between legs.
Dagur made sure he didn’t hold back in showing his disappointment, glaring at the ships as they pulled into harbor.
Savage appeared in his direct line of vision first, actually having the gall to make eye contact with his prince, while wiser-seeming men kept their gazes strictly on what their hands were doing.
As they lowered the gangplank, Dagur didn’t move an inch, intent on staring Savage down until he explained why, once again, they’d dared to return empty-handed.
“Greetings, your highness!” Savage called down to him. Dagur scowled and his eyes narrowed.
Was Savage smiling? Why was he smiling? The standards hadn’t been gloriously displayed, which would have indicated that Oswald was aboard with them.
If this was someone’s idea of a ‘fun surprise’, they were going to be flogged. Well, after the joyful reunion, of course.
Unfortunately, Oswald’s figure didn’t jump out from behind Savage and yell a cheerful hullo, which only further darkened Dagur's expression.
“So, what have you all brought me then, that you think I’m going to be so pleased this time, that I won’t throw you in the oubliette for another month?”.
Savage’s smile faltered and he turned a shade or two paler, which appeased the prince somewhat. Nonetheless, he rallied quickly.
“Sir, w-we did not find your father this time either, but we have secured you a way to find him! We could carry it down of course, but it may be a little simpler if you -“
An inhuman shriek of fury, accompanied by frantically swearing sailors, drowned out the rest of Savage’s words. There was a crash and three men ran frantically across the deck of the ship, pursued by what looked like an entire wine cellar’s worth of barrels. They jumped off the ship to avoid being crushed, landing with several distinguished splashes into the harbor.
Dagur’s curiosity was piqued at least.
He stormed his way up the gangplank just in time to see two other Berserker sailors wrestling a netted figure into a huge tub of sea water.
The creature disappeared into its element, going to the bottom of the tub, but Dagur had seen enough to know what it was.
Not that it made any sense. Those things weren’t supposed to be real; they were from fairytales . . .
At a loss, he turned to stare at Savage.
“Is . . . Is that a - ?”
“Yes, my Prince. As the legends say - a creature of prophecy and fortune! If we tame it, you can use its powers to find what is lost. Not just your father, but perhaps even treasures and sunken pirate ships, full of gold!”
Dagur waved off the man’s excitement. “Where did you even find it?”
“We captured it among the rocks, near Caldera C-“
Savage paused abruptly, staring in alarm over his prince’s shoulder. He began to shout an warning, but Dagur had already whirled to face the threat.
An enormous onslaught of water struck him full on, with a force great enough to chap skin and soak his entire body from head to toe. Through salt-stung wet eyes, he glimpsed the merrow’s tail fluke slip back out of view beneath the surface of the tub.
The prince had been wearing an embroidered silk and brocade tunic today, which was probably ruined now. Water dripped from his red hair, running down his face and the back of his neck, and even his woolen socks were drenched.
Dagur spat out a mouthful of seaweed and flotsam and tried to take a calming breath.
It did not work.
“I see. Mm hmm. I get where your tiny little pea brain was going with this, Savage.” Dagur started coldly, winding himself up to scream Savage into the deck.
“And perhaps - by your third month in a cozy little oubliette - you’ll begin to realize that YOU are the WORST EXCUSE FOR A CAPTAIN THIS ARCHIPELAGO HAS EVER —“
Dagur’s tirade was derailed almost embarrassingly prematurely by an uncontrollable and violent fit of sneezing.
“Are you alright, sir?” Savage asked warily, after it lasted more than a few seconds, nearly doubling the Berserker prince over.
A strange noise came from the vat of water, not unlike dolphin chatter. It had a mocking, laughing ring to it, which didn’t improve Dagur's mood one little bit.
“Take that thing to the bathhouse beneath the palace and chain it there if you have to. I’ll deal with the rest of you idiots later,” Dagur snarled when he was able to, wiping his face. He sniffed, tried pointlessly to wring out the tail of his soaked tunic - which was yep, definitely ruined - and stomped angrily back down the gangplank.
The effect of his furious departure, while honored by the dutiful silence of his armada, was completely ruined by the squeaking slosh of wet boots.
——-
Truthfully he hadn’t expected to see the creature again that night, but by the time Dagur reached his rooms in his soaked-through clothing, his sinuses had swelled shut and he had caught a chill that no fireplace could seem to warm.
He set aside the half finished mutton stew, having no stomach for it, and made his way down to the baths, hoping that steam and hot water would help drive out the sickness.
The bathhouse looked more like a palace than where the actual throne was kept. Ceramic tiles glazed in deep indigos, sharp azures and shimmering blues added a calming effect, while having the added benefit of making the area easy to clean and able to trap steam.
The place had been crafted beautifully and efficiently by local artisans in the village. It was easily the most luxurious structure Oswald had ever commissioned, and Dagur had to admit, one of the few he made use of consistently.
The water came from the island’s natural hot springs, piped straight into the tiled tubs with the direction of a lever. Cold well water could be added with a bucket to bring the bath to a lower temperature, but Dagur liked his baths near-scalding. Right now an uncomfortable ache was attempting to seep into his muscles and lymphs, and he’d just as soon boil it out of himself.
He had all but forgotten the merrow was down here, and went about undressing to his small clothes as the tub filled.
A series of clicks followed by a dismayed trill made Dagur whirl, snatching up a scrub brush and a wooden bucket as an impromptu measure of defense.
No wave of water came at him this time; Dagur saw that the merman had been chained in place as he commanded . . . and somewhat more cruelly than he’d intended.
The creature stared at him miserably through long fronds of greenish gold hair, with eyes the color of storm clouds over the sea. Several of his scales were bent the wrong way or missing altogether, and bruises the size of fingerprints showed where he had been held still for the men to restrain him in place.
The tiled archway and shelf had been put there for decoration and usefulness, as a place to utilize the steam of the baths after one was finished soaking.
Currently, the chain wrapped around the main joist beam was holding the merrow half off the ground, not quite allowing him enough slack to recline. His wrists were shackled together behind his back and chained to the beam, forcing his body to bend forward in an uncomfortable bow.
Someone had found a heavy weighted chain to snap around the base of his tail where it fanned out into bluish fins. Dagur had to wonder how many men had been slapped stupid until they thought of that.
He tossed down the scrub brush and walked toward the merman, losing his apprehension. Dagur wasn’t interested in causing him any pain, but the creature made a noise of alarm and writhed in his bonds, eyes going wild with panic.
“Calm down, it’s okay,” Dagur grumbled, not used to being soothing. He wanted to see the merrow up close, as this was probably the only real chance he’d get to examine him alone.
There was a collar of metal around his neck and the merman tried to twist away when Dagur reached for it. Ignoring his attempts, the Berserker managed to grab a hold of the collar’s lead.
An ear splitting shriek was his reward. He cursed and dropped the lead as his head throbbed with pain, and covered his ears until the merman finally quieted.
Dagur cautiously lowered his hands, and reached out again - this time to gently touch the creature’s shoulders. He tried to make the merman lift his head so he could see his face better, and paused when he noticed the red tinge on his fingertips.
The merman was bleeding . . . ? They weren’t stupid enough to have damaged him on purpose, Dagur reasoned, but then what - ?
It didn’t take him very long to find that the collar around the merman’s throat had a cruel ring of sharp metal spikes on the inside. It had obviously been used with some force earlier, possibly to literally drag him down here. Dagur’s earlier light tug must have aggravated existing wounds.
So they hadn’t been trying to hurt him, but they hadn’t been trying to not hurt him either. Dagur scowled and made a note to have a few words with whoever had been in charge of transporting the merrow.
For all his gruffness, his fingers were gentle and quick at finding the release on the collar. He carefully pulled the gruesome thing away, eliciting a trill of relief from the merman.
He would have to rinse out those wounds if they were going to heal. Dagur grabbed a bucket and dipped it into the hot water of his bath. He returned to the merrow’s side, and carefully poured its contents over the lacerations on the merman’s neck, most notably the sensitive looking slits on either side.
Wait, those couldn’t be wounds - they were far too symmetrical. He moved the merman’s long hair out of the way to get a better look. Soon enough the slits moved on their own, trying to breathe through the humidity and moisture in the air.
Dagur tsked. The merrow was going to need better than a steamy room to live in while he was here; he was a creature of water for pity’s sake. Whoever had done this was an absolute hack, and the prince was going tell them that - right before he tossed them off the highest watchtower.
He undid the shackles on the merman’s wrists and tail, keeping him propped up against him with an arm around his waist. He began to drag him to the nearest tub, only for the creature to start struggling violently. The tail came up and Dagur let go swiftly to dodge the slap, causing the merrow sprawl hard across the tiled floor.
At the impact, another of the creature’s wild inhuman screeches made his head throb anew.
“Would you SHUT UP!” Dagur roared, trying to block his ears and quite forgetting his temper.
The result was instantaneous and not at all what Dagur was going for.
The merman began to wail despondently. Tears fell from his eyes, bouncing and rolling across the floor in every direction, as though someone had snapped apart a necklace of beads.
It took Dagur a few stunned moments to realize the ‘tears’ were genuine pearls. Huh. Well, he hadn’t heard of that ability in any of the tales, but at least the awful shrieking had stopped.
Dagur rubbed at his temples, watching in consternation as the merman’s fit continued. The creature cried inconsolably until at least two pillowcases could be stuffed with pearls. At length, the crying finally tapered off, leaving him to just lie there - a soggy keening mess.
The Berserker prince looked him over, feeling strangely wretched. After a moment of indecision, he knelt down cautiously to gather the limp merrow up into his arms and carried him toward the filled tub.
The water was still hot, though it had cooled significantly, and the prince sighed in blissful relief as he stepped in. He lowered the merman gently into the pool, who - despite the earlier tantrum - was clinging to him like an otter pup to its mother.
The merman flinched at the heat of the water, but Dagur remained calm and didn’t drop him. “It’s okay, see? It’s not burning me and I’m just a mortal human of Midgard. Have you ever been in a hot spring before?”
The blank stare made Dagur wonder if the merrow could understand human language. He lowered both of them deeper into the water, suppressing an involuntary laugh when the merman hid his face against Dagur’s neck, tickling his throat with whiskery fronds of hair.
His mother had told many stories of merfolk, and the one thing common in all of them was that they caused storms, sang beautifully enough to wreck ships, and foretold futures. It was also common wisdom that while a mermaid might reward you for being kind to them, it would also cause vast misfortune if you were to mistreat one.
By degrees, the merrow uncurled and allowed himself to sink down into the hot water so that his gills were submerged. He kept his webbed fingers on Dagur’s arms, looking up at him with a wary, guarded expression.
“It’s okay,” Dagur sighed, “I won’t order those idiots to chain you up again. Just don’t attack me.”
The merrow looked relieved at that. He tilted his head and looked at Dagur calculatingly.
“What? Oh. Are you hungry or something?”
There was a pause and slowly the merrow shook his head, long hair following the currents of the motion.
Encouraged by the fact he was getting answers, Dagur gave him a rare smile. “Do you have a name?”
Another pause, and a short burst of dolphin chatter was his reply.
“Didn’t quite catch that, sorry. Try again, but slower?”
The merman repeated himself and though Dagur tried his very best to pronounce what he’d heard, he just couldn’t make those particular noises with a human tongue. Eventually, the merrow took Dagur's hand and turned it so that his palm was facing up.
Dagur recognized the first rune he traced into the palm of his hand, and then the second one, and so on. “Tuff? Tuffnut? Odd name for a merman. I guess I thought it would be more intelligent sounding or something.”
Tuff scowled, and slapped the water with his tail, clearly offended.
“Okay, look - it’s not a bad name. It just doesn’t suit you. I just figured you’d have a way cooler name, like Grendel or Marbendlar or something.”
Tuffnut seemed to consider that for a moment, then wrote something else in the palm of Dagur’s hand.
“Garffiljorg is okay, but it’s not a better name for you,” Dagur snorted. “It’s okay, we’ll stick with ‘Tuff’. My name is Dagur, son of Oswald.”
The merman said something. In porpoise language, his name sounded rather nice.
“Thanks,” Dagur grinned. Tuff gave him an exasperated eye roll and wrote something else in his hand.
{No, I said your name sounds stupider than mine.}
“Huh?! It does not!” Dagur snapped, yanking back his hand. “I’m a Berserker and the leader of our tribe - which means my name is far superior to yours!”
Tuffnut’s response was to go beneath the water and yank Dagur's ankles out from under him.
The resulting scuffle flung water every which way as the two of them wrestled for dominance in the tiled tub. Dagur captured Tuff firmly into a Berserker chokehold, only for the merrow to arch just slightly and whack Dagur in the back of the skull with his tail fluke.
The blow was a little too hard. Bright pretty colors exploded in his vision and Dagur fell forward, his weight also pushing Tuff down to the bottom of the tub.
Frantic porpoise chatter brought him around, and he was suddenly flat on his back on the smooth tile, with a long heavy weight on his chest and gray eyes staring down into his. Even upon his waking, Tuff didn’t slide off him, just burbling with what sounded like concerned affection and gently patting his cheek until the prince seemed fully aware of his surroundings.
Dagur blinked as he realized the merrow had dragged him out of the tub after knocking him out, apparently not willing to let him drown for some reason.
Tuff watched him, folding his arms across Dagur’s chest and resting his chin over them.
So apparently . . . the way to win a merrow’s heart was by losing a wrestling match to him? Huh. Dagur supposed there could be weirder methods out there.
He also couldn’t deny the fact that he felt better than he had in years, since . . . since Mom died, and his little sister went missing, and now his dad . . .
Tuff’s soft understanding trill didn’t help the moisture building up in Dagur’s eyes a bit.
The prince tried to sit up and shove Tuff away, like he always pushed people away when grief threatened to get the better of him.
As scrawny looking as the merrow was, he had enough strength to prevent Dagur from moving much. Tuffnut wrapped his arms around Dagur’s body and held him in place.
He opened his mouth and softly, began to sing.
The song had no words, as siren songs never seemed to in legend. That at least made sense. What didn’t was that the song somehow had emotions more poignant and real than words of any language could give justice to.
There was the pride and gratitude of an old man as he cradled his newborn great grandson. A woman’s bewildered shock as she reunited with a lover she’d long thought dead from battle. There was the relief a lost dog felt upon finally catching the scent of his home, followed by the wild bursts of joy the family’s children felt upon seeing their beloved pet safe and sound, running to meet them from the woods.
There was the unrelenting heartbreak of a mother dragon returning to find her nest raided, eggs smashed and half-eaten. The hopelessness of a lone surviving child, as she surveyed the open graveyard a tsunami had made of her entire village.
Dagur could not hold back his tears under the onslaught of that song, but he was sobbing too deeply to order Tuffnut to stop. The merman stroked his face and held him close, but he sang until the prince had no more emotions to fear encountering.
Tuff’s song eventually tapered down and he lifted Dagur's face to kiss away the salt of his tears.
He leaned into the caresses, accepting the comfort for once. Tuffnut turned his palm over and wrote a question.
{Do you want me to show you? I can look for his future, to see if he has one. Or I can look at yours to see if he ever gets found.}
Dagur looked at him through exhausted eyes. “You can’t just tell me where he is, can you? W-Where - even if he is dead - we could put him to rest?”
{Sorry. We can tell the future, that’s it. The vision won’t bring you a lot of details. It can save you a lot time, though - to know whether you still have time. Otherwise, wouldn’t you just be sending out ships full of Berserker men and women all the time for nothing? I mean, it can’t be great for their families either.}
Dagur winced. He’d actually never thought of that . . .
He took a breath and nodded. “Please. Show me.”
Tuffnut got off him and crawled back to the tub’s edge. He touched the waters surface and beckoned for Dagur to come see.
With more bravery than he felt, the Berserker prince came to the merrow’s side and looked into the darkening pool.
He saw nothing. Not the bottom of the tub through clear water, and not the dark behind one’s eyelids when they didn’t want to be awake - simply the concept of nothing itself reflecting back at him.
Which meant . . .
Tuff’s arms opened for the prince once again as grief and numbness overtook him. This time the warmth of companionship and understanding was there to cushion the blow. It didn’t stop the pain, but it helped him move along.
After what seemed like hours, Tuffnut reached back into the water and touched its surface, dispelling the last vision and replacing it with a different one.
In this one, a girl’s hand reached out to a small silver form, cowering in the corner of a cave. Blind and helpless, it crawled into her arms and curled against her chest, allowing her to give comfort.
She spoke to the hatchling gently . “You’re going to be alright, little one. I’m sorry I couldn’t help your mother, but I can take care of you.”
Dagur raised his head at the girl’s voice, blinking. The vision changed - now the girl was seeing her village, her island from far up in the sky - whooping as great silver wings carried them both through the clouds and currents.
“Who is that?” he asked quietly. He felt like he should know, but he hadn’t seen her face; just what she had yet to see and experience.
{Your sister. Sorry, but while you were crying earlier, I . . . I sort of felt that you still missed her. I understand - I miss mine too. Anyway, I figured if she was also gone, the pool wouldn’t have changed. And you’d already accepted her loss a while ago . . .}
Dagur stared and reached for the vision, trying to figure out from what she was seeing on dragon back where her island was.
{Sometimes we get lucky, with the visions. I’ve never foretold a dragon rider’s fortune before. Also, I know where those islands are. They’re very close to my home, near Caldera . . .}
A few pearls dropped into Dagur’s lap. He stared at them, and then touched the merman’s face. Tuff’s eyes were brimming over.
“I promise you,” Dagur said, cupping the merrow’s face. “We’ll sail for Caldera Cay first light tomorrow, and I’ll release you into the waters of your home myself. If Heather’s near, then I know where to start looking. You’ve done more than enough for my sake.”
Tuff blinked and gave the prince a watery grin before tackling him into a hug that nearly sent both of them headlong into the tub.
After the fierce embrace, the merrow pulled back and once again took Dagur’s hand.
{I’ll come with you to find your sister. Its okay, I trust you now.}
Dagur was shocked for a moment. Then he grinned, touched. The merrow was choosing to go with him? Also, nobody had ever said they trusted him before. He pulled Tuff into another hug, and didn’t let go for quite some time.
——-
The island was beautiful and lush, looking untouched by human hand at first appearance. It took some careful study through the lens of a telescope to see that there was a village there, hidden well by the trees.
At first, it seemed like it would be impossible to navigate the ship into the harbor. They sailed around the entire island before Tuff took it upon himself to dive into the waters and find the ship a big enough inlet.
When the Berserker ship showed up in their midst, it caused quite a stir. Villagers came out of their boathouses to stare, though not at the merman - who kept beneath the surface and out of sight.
Dagur made every effort to meet the protocol of politeness his father had attempted to teach him a while ago, honestly spooking some of his men. The villagers became far more welcoming once they realized the newcomers had no ill intentions.
Heather’s parents were sent for, and after exchanging stories the mystery of how Dagur’s sister had wound up on their island was solved.
It was Tuff who found the girl first.
Heather was by the brook side, all of ten years old and absolutely enamored by the merman, chattering at her in dolphin a mile a minute. Tuff turned to see Dagur and Heather’s parents, beckoning to them excitedly.
Heather’s mother stopped in her tracks and grabbed her husbands bicep. “Is . . . Is that a . . ?”
“Merrow. Yep,” Dagur said proudly.
“How did you find one? I searched for them all the time when I was a girl just Heather’s age.”
“Oh, we found each other. And trust me when I say your daughter and my little sis is gonna find something all on her own that’s at least twice as awesome.”
Heather looked up at their approach, her green eyes going from her parents to Dagur.
“Who are you?” she asked, no trace of fear in her voice.
Dagur was here to make sure that never changed.
“Sweetheart, this is your older brother - Dagur, son of Oswald, King of the Berserker Tribe.”
Heather blinked, first at the red haired stranger she hadn’t seen since she was four, and then back at the merman. She pinched herself, eliciting a chuckle from her mother and father.
“Heather, you’re not dreaming,” her mother assured. “And you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”
Dagur stepped forward, dressed in white gold armor, hair neatly braided and trimmed. “Hello, little sister. You probably don’t remember me, but it’s okay if you don’t. It . . . It was such a long time ago that you were on our island.” He had to swallow a lump in his throat.
Heather offered him a shy smile. “Hi.”
“. . . Hi.” Dagur returned awkwardly. Tuff chattered something and beckoned him to come closer, looking slightly exasperated. When Dagur and Heather stood a few inches apart, both looking flustered and unsure, Tuff rolled his eyes.
He picked up two sticks of driftwood and held them up, indicating they represented the Berserker siblings, then put the two together in a hug.
Heather broke out into giggles and obliged, stepping forward to hug her brother close. Dagur gave a hitching rasp, swallowed, and then grinned, hugging Heather back hard enough to lift her off her feet. Impulsively, he whooped and swung her in a circle, causing her to giggle to become outright laughter.
Tuff burbled fondly at them both.
——-
The time to say goodbye had come.
Heather had opted to stay with her parents, but with plenty of visits planned. She had yet to find Windshear after all, and the merrow had told Dagur it was best to let the future take its course.
The village was now under the protection of the Berserker Clan, and it would become widely known throughout the Archipelago not to harm so much as a blade of grass on that island, unless you wanted the entire Berserker Armada breathing down your neck.
Wisely, most tribes decided not to risk it.
Tuffnut put his arms around Dagur’s neck as the prince lifted him to carry him to the railing. Below, the small rocky islands of the Cay teemed with life. And occasionally the bewildered faces of peeping mermaids and merrows.
Upon seeing Tuff in Dagurs arms, several of them called up. One scolded like a seagull, another barked like a seal.
The sound of dolphin chatter made Tuff grin and it didn’t take long to pick his sister out from among the bobbing merfolk. Ruffnut scowled at him and gave Dagur the hairy eyeball, then chattered a fierce command at Tuff.
He didn’t need it translated. “You better get down there before she bites my nose off,” Dagur teased.
Tuff rolled his eyes, grinning. He gave his sister a cheeky look and then cupped Dagur’s face, kissing him deeply.
This of course caused an absolute cacophony below; the seagull mermaid abruptly sounded like she was choking on a ship biscuit, while the barking selkie’s tirade cut off with a startled yip.
Tuffnut gave them all a shit-eating smirk and gave Dagur one last soft peck on the cheek before diving down to join his friends and sister.
The dolphin chatter was the last to fade beneath the waves and it sounded like Tuff and his sister were having quite the argument.
“Where to now, sir?” Savage asked.
“Home,” said Dagur, without hesitation. “We go home now. There’s a lot of work to be done for our people before winter, now that Berserker Island has a king again.”
Startled, the Berserkers looked at each other and grinned. It looked like they were going to get to spend a lot more time with their families from now on.
End
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Beauty And Elegance: Primary Considerations When Planning For A Classic Home Interior Design
During the 17th, 18th, and first part of the 19th century, interior design was one of the particular concerns of middle-class society. Its popularity rose during the industrial revolution, making people fascinated with its different designs for a much better home improvement. The primary Egyptian practice of interior design should be one of the 300 wtf facts you should know.
During the reign of their Egyptian dynasty, “soul houses” played a vital role in tombs for food offerings. This known fact could be one of the sources of the interior design of most Egyptian residences. Past centuries standards created a significant impact on today’s version of the interior.
Today, there are hundreds of interior designs that hook everyone’s eyes because of appealing aesthetics and a perfect combination of colors. One of those known and most-used interior designs is the classical type.
People find pleasure with its elegant, robust, and clarity-style of aesthetics. Its fashion and distinct version of beauty never get old. However, to achieve this interior style, there are essential considerations you must know to avoid future disappointments. Here are some of them:
Appropriate Pieces of Furniture
Exclusive furniture is of the vital elements you should always consider when choosing a traditional interior style. Like all elements in classic interiors, all furniture should fit the entire design. Classical furniture includes geometric shapes, quality wood like patterned birch, mahogany, and walnut, and traditional flowers and vases motifs. One of the best furniture that will surely fit the interior is the recliners for sleep due to its elegant and fashionable style.
Nature-Like Colors
The right combination of colors is vital for a classic interior. Nature colors should be evident in most of your internal space. Shades of brown, deep blue, gray, yellow, and green should be appropriately visible and combined with creativity. Burnt clay is the most popular shade. Pastel wall hues add some art. You can also consider dark colors like dark blue and dark green to emphasize the particular part of your interior.
Luxurious Decorations
Consider adding beautiful arts on your walls, curtains, and furniture upholstery by using luxurious materials such as velvet, cotton, damask, silk, non-glossy products with apparent patterns. The taffeta or silk gives you a livelier interior ambiance.
Curtains that are laced with decorative patterns are standard in the classical interior. Fancy designs of laces add the uniqueness of the whole interior, especially for smaller rooms. Wavy lines of laces work great for upholstery decor. These offer you a feeling of comfort and softness. The natural materials used for floor decking are marbles, stone, wood, or slate. Others also used tiles and formed them into geometric patterns.
Symmetrical Arrangement
What makes the interior style exclusive is its antique-style fireplace, which is common in every household following the design. It can be the center of attraction of your whole classic interior design. Some people choose a large dining table, kitchen island, and chest of drawers that define their version of the style.
Without busters, Roman columns, and big patterned vases, a classic interior is impossible. They are one of the main attractions of the house. Aside from this exclusive furniture, you should also be concerned with the whole arrangement. Everything should be symmetrical. The room should be divided symmetrically. All the furniture, including the lamps, and bookshelves, and other elements in the interior should be symmetrically arranged to get the ideal classical feeling.
Traditional Design Textiles
There are various classical textiles you can choose from that affect the entire interior mood. From riotous color and antiques-like patterns, there are plenty of choices you can freely enjoy with. Chintz, conjuring flowers, antique tapestries, and fresh gingham are some of the great options you can freely blend for an attractive and refreshing design.
Room By Room Decorating Style
You already know the fundamental considerations when designing a classic interior. Now, let’s proceed to the essential room by room style ideas to achieve a classical theme fully. From traditional kitchen to your bathroom, here’s what you must know:
Kitchen
Most conventional style kitchens are associated with light gray and green colors, taupes, or muted creams. These give every homeowner a more elegant and classic feel. You will likely spend an extended time designing your kitchen interior, but the product gives you an unexplained satisfaction.
Dining Room
An old-fashioned and polished dining room is one of the significant features in a classical interior because of its sense of formality. Keep symmetrical designs to highlight the theme. Also consider practical furnishings, straight lines, and clean finishes for an ideal traditional dining area.
Bedroom
To create a relaxing classic style bedroom, take a look at your flooring and walls. The elements you will include for your bedroom should be complementary to the whole bedroom features. If you have surrounding light colors, try to use calming putty hues as your main bedroom highlights.
Living Room
The classic living room style is all about the right combination of designs and eras that work together harmoniusly. You can work with attractive base colors, a wide variety of antiques, and some ornate extras for a luxurious traditional style.
Bathroom
Consider adding a more fabulous and lavish effect to your bathroom area for a more sumptuous private zone. Crystal features, gilt details, mesmerizing walls, an Art-Deco inspired features to give you glamorous bathroom space. The entire bathroom interior will always speak for itself.
Conclusion
We all have our dream home interior. Whether you prefer classic or modern design, it’s all up to your taste of fashion and the availability of the resources. Our option of an interior theme speaks a lot about us. You can freely choose what will satisfy your sense of fashion and what can represent you.
Classic or traditional interior is an unusual choice of design as most of the houses these days are dominated by a modern theme. However, following this style gives you a different fashion feel. Its beauty and elegance always justify everyone’s pleasure. From its unique variety of furniture and antique-style decorations, classic interior themes set an exceptional standard.
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