Tumgik
#palace chapel
ancientsstudies · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The palace smelled of stone and paint, of people and food and beeswax floor polish.
The garden smelled only of flowers and earth.
19K notes · View notes
virtuallyinsane · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Photo by Lorenzo Gerosa
274 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Royal Chapel Versailles Palace
176 notes · View notes
artschoolglasses · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
The Royal Chapel
Versailles, France
56 notes · View notes
fatalism-and-villainy · 9 months
Text
Half-formed thought here, but. Usually in my mind I assume that the topic of Abigail goes almost completely unspoken between Will and Hannibal post-canon, but... man. What if they were even more unhinged about it than that. Like, what if they displayed a massive portrait of her on the mantlepiece or something, as a symbol of Will getting Hannibalpilled and buying into the idea that her death was a sad but inevitable consequence of the force of nature that is Hannibal. And then everyone who visited the house assumed she was just a beloved relative of one of them or something, without knowing anything about the details of how she died (or even that she was dead). And whatever murder buddies/protégés/frenemies/pseudo-children/sexy little thirds/[whatever unholy combination of those things] Will and Hannibal acquired would piece together some very idealized understanding of her as the Perfect Dead Sister-Daughter that they could never measure up to, whose ghostly presence hangs over them... and then coming to the very macabre discovery that Hannibal was the one who killed her! I think that'd be neat.
63 notes · View notes
mypepemateosus · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
15 notes · View notes
wolfephoto · 1 month
Video
The Royal Chapel - Palace of Versailles, France
flickr
The Royal Chapel - Palace of Versailles, France by John Wolfe Via Flickr: La Chapelle Royale, Château de Versailles, France
17 notes · View notes
fabien-euskadi · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The private chapel of the Palace of the Homem Family, in Crato. This XVIII Century chapel was dedicated to Our Lady of Consolation of Utrera, here represented with Saint Fracis of Assisi and Saint Francis of Paola (first and last images). The altar is made of marble instead of gilded woodcarving (the most usual choice during the Portuguese Baroque period), a detail that reveals that the wealth of this family during the XVIII Century,
Oddly enough, Our Lady of Consolation of Utrera is the patroness of sailors, and that's a rather odd choice, considering that the town of Crato is very distant from the sea.
Nowadays, this Baroque-Rocaille palace is the home of the Municipal Museum of Crato.
24 notes · View notes
adini-nikolaevna · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
Alexandra Memorial Chapel at the Alexander Palace
28 notes · View notes
rabbitcruiser · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Puebloans captured Santa Fe from the Spanish during the Pueblo Revolt on August 21, 1680.
10 notes · View notes
cr-inge · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
21 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A Royal Recycling (part 265)  
Catherine Walker
33 notes · View notes
skysousleciel · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
The Royal Chapel Château de Versailles May 14th, 2022
7 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Saint George's Chapel, Windsor Castle, London, ENGLAND
88 notes · View notes
artschoolglasses · 10 months
Photo
Tumblr media
The Rich Chapel
Residenz, Munich
125 notes · View notes
recitedemise · 6 months
Note
ooh wax poetic please!! ♡
Send ‘wax poetic’ for Gale to work some poetry; his muse is you: still accepting.
There is something about him that goes beyond age, isn't there? Watching how the cracking of dawn scorches him golden, silhouette blazed and amber-torched, Daemos looms like those palaces of old. He's its bailey by the sunset; he's its view to the east.
You're the wonders of a kingdom at its mightiest of heights, unwithering in the face of time's vast scourges. He is tall and stony, magical in skill, and you have only preserved in spite of it.
Yes. Gale, abandoning his tent, starts, by the gods, I would brave your parapets. I trust you, he thinks. His past is a mystery, mind stone-archways that would fold to a maze, but Gale knows luster; he hales from Waterdeep. And neither cowed by greatness nor bottomless riddles, where this man will guide him, he will follow.
(Even should his halls take him to a chapel.) "Morning." (There's a corpse at the altar and the dead at his feet.) "Slept well, I hope?"
6 notes · View notes