tunes-on-a-typewriter

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

“What is done cannot be undone, but one can prevent it happening again” - Anne, 7th May 1944

#holocaust remembrance day #anne frank #her story is so terrible and tragic

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Moved blogs!

@tunes-on-a-typewriter ➸ @veiliza

See you there! Xoxo Eliza

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UPDATE

Hi everyone! I have a pretty big update: I’m going to change blogs. It’s true, darling Lucia inspired me to do this, but it had been on my mind for some time, simply because I had never done a real writeblr intro an also this blog is a complete mess, so it seemed like the right thing to do. 

Of course I’m still going to continue my wips Cosmopolitan and Doll Face! For Doll Face, I will renew the wip intro and maaaaybe the character introductions (to those on the taglist: If you don’t want to be tagged again, please tell me) and for Cosmopolitan, I will continue writing and maybe a new wip intro as well. 

My new writing blog: @veiliza

Just tagging some mutuals here who might be interested: @hildy-dont-be-hasty @poisonedpatchoulis @tragediesoftory @absolute-nonsense-scribblings @buster-keaton @rememberedkisses @purgatorydotexe @svartalfhild @alias-levi @writerlywonders @writingbyjillian @chloeswords @raevenlywrites.

See you!!

#update #new blog #my writing

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

Marco Bozzato by Sofia Goncharenko – Haze Magazine (Winter 2020)

#Inspirational stuff #story: doll face

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

hey for the angst prompts, how about "are you leaving?"

it’s here… i had some fun with this one!

words: 728

warnings: implied abuse, brief talk of death

“Dela,” Maitland whispers, voice barely audible over the storm. “What are you making?”

The just-turned-eight-year-old is wrapped in an old blanket just on the verge of being useless, eyes wide and hyperconscious of every creak of the old wood frame of the bed she’s sitting on. 

Adela turns from her desk, where a jar of something is being heated over a candle, finger pressed to her lips. The candle is the only light source in the small room, casting flickering shadows across the walls and an eerie light across Adela’s face.

“Sh. It’s a secret.”

The candle-light reflects in Maitland’s wide eyes. “Can’t you tell me?”

Adela casts a glance back at the jar, before standing and sitting next to her two-year-younger sister on the ramshackle bed.

“I can’t, not now, but I promise I will soon as I can.”

A thin hand pokes it’s way out of the blanket. “Promise?”

Adela smiles, hooking her little finger with her sister’s. “Promise.” 

The next night, Adela doesn’t even light a candle.

Once she’s certain Maitland is sound asleep next to her, she slips out from under the thin sheets as softly as possible.

She pads to the closet, willing the hinges not to squeak.

In the very back of the closet is a small rucksack, lightly used, stolen three months ago from a pawnshop late on their dues.

Adela glances back at her sister, curled in a small ball under the thin blankets. Every squeak of the floorboards and every raucous laugh from the other room makes Adela start. So long as the thin strip of yellow light spilling under the door isn’t interrupted, Adela doesn’t pause.

She hurriedly throws a few things into the bag. A shirt, a pair of trousers, a few jars of her poisons. Some bread, cheese, and an apple wrapped in a cloth stolen away at the last meal.

Fixing the rucksack closed, she pads over to the window. Fog and smoke curl over the city, and the lights glow eerily through the smoggy sky. The only traces of the rain from last night are puddles, dark and seemingly deep as the ocean in the night. The wind tosses stray mud-streaked newspapers down the street, throwing them against the curb and smacking them into the bricks of the buildings.

Adela shivers as she eases open the window, the wind curling around her like an embrace from a corpse. She hoists the bag through the window, carefully lowering it onto the rusted fire escape.

Perching on the window-ledge, she wraps her scarf around her neck. 

Maitland would have remained asleep if Adela’s arm hadn’t hit the window, rattling the glass panes.

Adela freezes. If Maitland cries out, Adela will be caught and punished.

Maitland sits up, whimpering as she realizes her sister’s warmth is gone.

She doesn’t notice her sister until the yellow lights of a car bounce off the building, illuminating Adela’s silhouette in the window.

“Dela…” 

Maitland’s voice is small and scared. 

“Are… Are you leaving?”

“May, I-”

“You said you’d take me. You said we’d go together!”

“I- I know- I… I figured, if I went out ahead, I could find some place that was safe. And then come back to get you.”

Maitland clutches at the blankets.

“You promise?”

Adela smiles, even if her sister can’t see it.

“Promise.”

Adela slips out the window into the night, scrambling down the fire escape and vanishing into the shadowed streets of London.

Mother is furious the next morning.

Maitland is sent to her room, cheek stinging for not saying something sooner, for wanting to leave.

That afternoon, Hunter comes, grin sly and eyes full of gleeful malice as he oh-so-causally announces he found Adela’s body while he was out. The police had taken it and she ought to be in the morgue by now. He shrugs his shoulders, saying something about her probably getting caught in the gang war that happened last night, oh, hadn’t anyone told Maitland and Adela? What a shame they didn’t know in time.

That night, Maitland sobs into her sheets, wishing she and Dela had hooked fingers because they always make promises like that and if they had this wouldn’t’ve happened.

She wishes, deep down, that Dela hadn’t left without her. They would have been safer together. They’re always safer together.

She wonders why Dela didn’t tell her.

#SO amazing!! #other people’s writing #i can imagine everything

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION /// MARIONA LISELI CORIA-SALDO

( she/her [mtf trans] | pansexual | 18 | autistic | othean-asparori | 5′6″ )

tropes:

bookworm

brainy brunette

girly girl

pretty princess powerhouse

so beautiful it’s a curse

ah, mariona liseli coria-saldo. princess of othea and next in line to the throne, descendent of the moon god luchisanio. what a girl she is! isn’t she, standing at about average height, her skin a tawny light brown with warm, coppery undertones? there is a certain expressiveness to those large, long-lashed brown eyes of her set against her heart-shaped face, framed by richly brown hair often pinned away from her face in the elaborate ringlets that are considered so fashionable today.

being a future queen, mariona was taught quite a bit on how to act proper. and she certainly does, doing her best to be polite and charming to all she meets. of course, even though she is a genuinely sweet and well-mannered young lady, she is certainly prone to being spoiled and insensitive every now and then - which isn’t entirely surprising, she is a princess raised in the lap of luxury, after all. her insensitivity is in no small part due to the fact that she is autistic; her world unfortunately doesn’t have a word for that. 

though she may be a kind young lady, she is most certainly not a starry-eyed idealist - that would certainly make for a ruler of questionable quality. mariona is actually quite ambitious and book-smart, preferring the company of old works of literature and small intellectual discussions over bread pudding and spiced tea to large crowds. alas, her intellect and other positive traits are often overlooked in favor of her appearance. mariona is acutely aware of this. she does not wish she was ugly - in fact, her current appearance is actually a tremendous contributor to her gender euphoria! - but she is not viewed as much more than just a pretty face, and wishes she were taken more seriously for her intellect and other positive qualities. she’s going to become queen in the future, after all!

the royal family of othea are direct descendants from the moon god luchisanio, and every firstborn child is the next in line to inherit the magic that comes from such an ancestry. mariona is the only child of the royal coria-saldo family, she only grew up with her mother and grandmother. her father, the king, was an asparori noble who died at sea when she was a toddler. fortunately, mariona grew up living a comfortable life with her mother and grandmother, beginning to transition when she was in around her early teens and forming a childhood friendship with the royal siblings of asparora. when she hears the old stories of the legendary flower of liroa, she jumps at the opportunity to seek it - perhaps if she can be the one to find it, people will realize that her face is not her only fortune after all…

taglist ( please ask or dm me to be + / - ): @austrohungarianwriteblr / @blueinkblot / @fields-of-ink / @metanoiamorii / @ollieoxen-freewriting / @partlyparchment / @pe-ersona / @tunes-on-a-typewriter

#so glamorous! #this is how I aim to be one day #other people’s ocs

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

Trembling, Zoyka closed the door behind her. She heard the last sounds of the dance band fade away and breathed a sigh of relief. She had endured four dances, two of them with Lillian, one with her brother Olivier and one, of necessity, with Camir, because it was appropriate and she didn't want to make a bad impression on the Sandinos right away.  After that, she had sneaked out and wandered around the tall, imposing house until she was far enough away from the celebrating guests. She looked around to see where she had ended up. Tall stone pillars hushed her from the twilight of a long, stone hallway. The only light came from the candlesticks standing around. Straining, she looked at the opposite columns. Wasn't there something there? She felt strangely observed. Suddenly she heard slow footsteps coming from the darkness and the high, slender silhouette of a man appeared behind one of the columns. "Hello?" Zoyka called out, trying to sound as brave as possible. A soft giggle was the answer. "Hello, little girl," the shadow man replied and Zoyka realised with surprise that it was quite a young voice. "Shouldn't you be downstairs at the party?" he asked, stepping into the light. He wore a snow-white wig, a terribly colourful skirt, frilly gloves and, strangely enough, a half-mask, a colombina, the kind usually only worn by women. The whole lower half of his face was painted green and gold and his curved red mouth stood out like a drop of blood. "Cynthian Prósper Romeu," he introduced himself, took her hand and touched it very lightly with his lips, always maintaining his mocking smile. "P-pleasant," Zoyka stammered. "I'm-" "Zoyka Doriana Abraxis, granddaughter of Camir Eliyah Abraxis and fiancée of Lillian Onora Sandino," he completed her sentence. “Don’t ask. I know everything.” Zoyka closed her mouth. It seemed to her that she had heard his name before, but she could not remember when. She only recalled that it had been in connection with something utterly outrageous. "Well, what are you doing here, Mademoiselle Zoyka?" "I just wanted to look around a bit. The party was so frightfully boring." "Then I won't bother you any further," said Cynthian. He put a long, slim finger under her chin and lifted it so that she had to look him in the eye. Strange pale blue, soulful eyes they were. "Don't let the wolves bite you. There are plenty of them in this town." "I know," Zoyka said, "but surely not here in the house?" "Here especially." Cynthian laughed his quiet laugh again and Zoyka had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew something she didn't. "Goodbye, little Zoyka," he said as he moved away. "I think we'll be seeing a lot more of each other." She heard his footsteps until he had disappeared behind the column, then they fell silent.

This was quite long, but I had to introduce Cynthian in a proper way!

taglist: @poisonedpatchoulis @tragediesoftory. If you want to join/leave the taglist, just ask or dm me! :)

#doll face #writing excerpt #i love Cynthian i hope yall noticed that #my wip #my writing

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION: PHYLLIS

Phyllis laughed, somewhat humorlessly. She took a cigarette case out of her purse, extracted a cigarette, and raised it to her lips. “Got a light?” she asked Larry. He tossed her a matchbook without looking up from his crossword puzzle. “Thanks,” said Phyllis, lighting the cigarette. She turned back to Margaret. “That’s true. Your mother doesn’t like me, does she?” Margaret didn’t know what to say to that.  “Why do you say that?” was all she could manage. Phyllis took a drag from her cigarette and looked straight at Margaret. “No use being polite. She doesn’t like me. Mothers usually don’t, though, so I’m sure it’s nothing personal.”

full name: phyllis carolyn schuyler

age: 22 (born january 19th, 1914)

gender and sexuality: female (she/her), heterosexual

family: one older sister (jane)

appearance: 5′4″, blue eyes, hair dyed platinum blonde. always very well-dressed, wears a lot of makeup. her hair is always perfect. 

personality: phyllis has acquired the reputation for being catty, but whether or not that is justified depends on who you ask. it’s true that she can be prickly, that she has a manipulative streak, and that she holds grudges, but phyllis has her soft side – not that many people get to see it! 

biography: growing up in the same high-society circles as the kittredges, phyllis schuyler seemed to have an easy time of it. she enjoyed parties and pretty dresses and fit in well with her peers. she knew she was being groomed to be a model wife, and unlike her childhood friend, margaret kittredge, she saw no problem with that – except the choice of husband! by age twenty-two, she had gone through three fiancés (one of whom was larry kittredge), and her mother had more or less given up on matchmaking. this was all right with phyllis: if she was going to be married, she would much rather choose the groom herself. spending the summer of 1936 in france, her trip was interrupted by the arrival of two acquaintances: an old friend and a former fiancé. this should have made the vacation unbearably tense, but phyllis had some tricks up her sleeve. after all, she knows something about larry kittredge, and he’s not overly keen on having it be public knowledge. and if she can just figure out how to manipulate that to her advantage…

taglist (please dm, send an ask or leave a comment if you’d like to be added or removed): @tunes-on-a-typewriter @rememberedkisses

#why m i only seeing this now?? #anyway i cant wait!! #other people’s ocs

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION /// CASIMIRO LUIS LUNAO

( he/him [cis male] | asexual panromantic | 26 | autistic | asparori | 5′9″ )

tropes:

broken ace

nice guy

tall, dark, and handsome

the pollyanna

stepford smiler

alright, let’s get ourselves acquainted with the prince of asparora! commonly referred to as the most handsome of the three royal siblings, casimiro is a bit on the tall side. his dark, charcoal-black hair contrasts boldly to his fair skin. perhaps his most striking feature is his eyes: a distinct, dark green staring brightly from behind his spectacles. take away the spectacles and he’s the spitting image of his father as a young man.

those who meet him say that he will make for an excellent king when the time comes. indeed - casimiro is a seasoned diplomat and an experienced combatant, both of which are ideal traits for a future king. he has a very sweet demeanor, too - charismatic and well-mannered to everyone he meets, with an ever optimistic and hopeful demeanor. he’s quite popular with the lords and ladies of asparora in no small part due to his sunny, charming personality.

…if only the casimiro inside matched the outside, too. beneath his gentle smile and insistence that a positive attitude and strength of hope is necessary at all times lies a tired, fragile young man. he is well aware that he’s got quite a legacy to live up to, and worries of “what if i am not good enough” plague him - not to mention that since being hailed as a child prodigy, he’s experiencing what qualifies as very slow, very draining burnout. of course, he has to keep all that to himself - surely, hope and kindness will triumph if he tries hard enough, right?

this is in no small part due to his upbringing. while santino goncalo lunao may be an ideal ruler, he is… not entirely an ideal father. casimiro was subject to abuse and extreme pressure from a young age - he had to provide a good example for his younger brothers. in our world, he would be labeled as autistic. showing an interest in older material at a young age got him labeled as an “old soul”, a “child prodigy”, yet through all of their most fraught moments he dearly loves his father and younger brothers. so when casimiro hears of the flower of liroa, he sets out to find it because he knows that if he does it will surely unite the kingdom. besides, he’s got the goddess of life - dama vivia - as his patron, who assures him that his unwavering, unfaltering hope will help them succeed in their quest… won’t it?

taglist ( please ask or dm me to be + / - ): @austrohungarianwriteblr / @blueinkblot / @metanoiamorii / @ollieoxen-freewriting / @partlyparchment / @pe-ersona / @tunes-on-a-typewriter 

#i love him #he reminds me of Alex and that is the biggest compliment im capable of #other people’s ocs

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

#inspo

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

Letting everyone down would be my greatest unhappiness.

MARIE ANTOINETTE 2006 – Sofia Coppola

#marie antoinette #inspo #story: doll face

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

Farhiya Shire by Nelly Mirabel

#inspo #story: doll face

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

Thank you very much for the tag! Sorry that it took me so long!

I’m going to do this for doll face, hope you don’t mind!

 “Träumerei” by Robert Schumann

“Fantasia in f-minor” by Franz Schubert

The Nutcracker: “The Christmas Tree” by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

“Nocturne op. 32 no.1″ by Frédéric Chopin

“Piano Sonata no. 13″ by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Very ✨classy✨, this selection!

I tag  @poisonedpatchoulis (I know you said in your description you don’t want to be tagged, but take this as a symbol of appreciation and by no means pressure!), @stuff-lucie-wrote, @alias-levi @writerlywonders @writingbyjillian and anyone who wants to participate!

WIP PLAYLIST TAG

thanks for creating this + tagging me @keira-is-writing and please ignore the awful title.

rules: list five songs that most encapsulate your wip/the most essential songs on your wip playlist.

awake & dreaming by lucy daydream.

smoke signals by tessa violet + cavetown.

mystery of love by sufjan stevens.

time alone with you by jacob collier.

my future by billie eilish.

the full playlist is HERE. can you tell that soft, dreamy songs are the vibes. tagging @piyawrites @andiwriteunderthemoon @shaelinwrites @harehearts @avi-burton-writing @howdy-writes @occiidens @sophiewritingstuff @ahowlinwolf @thegreyboywrites @aartemide @radiomacbeth @kitblogsthings [only if y’all want to!!]

#tagged✨ #absolute-nonsense-scribblings #tag game #story: doll face #my wip #my writing #playlist #music

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

"Have you been out again?" said Camir reprimandingly when Zoyka came running to the breakfast table a little out of breath. "You know you shouldn't go barefoot in the snow, least of all today!" 

Under his grey eyebrows he gave her a grim look, but smiled. Then he opened one of the giant books he always had with him when he ate, and began to read. He doesn't look like a typical magician, Zoyka thought as she looked at him, more like a slightly crazy uncle. He wasn't wearing a wide coat full of symbols and a pointed hat, but a slightly worn velvet jacket and only a little golden colour around his eyes, fats so little that it seemed rude. Zoyka didn't mind, but Camir often got wry looks because of it. 

Tonight, however, he too would get dressed up, because firstly he wanted to make a good impression in front of the Sandinos and secondly there was Miss Sweltenham present. Miss Eleonora Sweltenham was hated by Camir.She was of indeterminate age and undoubtedly an idiosyncratic beauty, but she always liked to cause intrigue and resentment.  Apart from that, she was a very capable magician herself and would be happy to find a fault with Camir. 

"Don't think about that silly Sweltenham now," said Zoyka when she noticed her grandfather looking gloomy. "We’re going to have the most spiffing time!”

taglist: @poisonedpatchoulis @tragediesoftory. If you want to join/leave the taglist, ask or dm me! :)

#doll face #writing excerpt #zoyka abraxis☆ #camir abraxis☆ #my writing #my wip #yall going to either love or hate miss sweltenham just you wait

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

#inspo #doll face

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION *LILLIAN*

full name: Lillian Onora Sandino 

orientation: bisexual (she/her)

age: 18

appearance: about 5′9 (c. 175 cm); not too slim; dark brown skin; black eyes and long black hair (in fact, it is so long that she does not wear a wig for official meetings like others); appears to be very athletic; likes to keep her distance; has a wide smile; could wear anything and still looks elegant as hell, has two little piercings above her left eyebrow

personality: (maybe) a bit arrogant; has a heart of gold; very stubborn and proud; knows all about her and her family’s influence and how to use it; can be reckless when she needs to be; fearless and a warrior; loves all kinds of animals; always fights with her brother, but loves him very dearly; likes to pretend to be the pretty young girl, but knows about every intrigue going on

Oh yes, Lillian Sandino! You can hardly imagine a more beautiful, proud and noble girl, more appropriate to her position. She has never known anything like sadness, pain or injustice and you can see it on her face, which lights up like a star when she smiles. Just like her mother, a Hexan Fairy, she has one black eye and one golden eye, but you can't see the real power her mother passed on to her, namely a small extra part of her brain that allows her to draw secrets out of others in the most skilful way. Party life is made for her. She seems to float on clouds and shines like the top of a Christmas tree. But no one but her brother really knows her, she has always made sure of that, because she despises the predictability of her parents and her whole family. You always know ten sentences in advance what they will say and their beautiful heads seem to contain nothing of sweet air and candyfloss. Then she found out about her planned wedding with the strange Zoyka Abraxis, who is as rich and highly respected as she is, but without doubt much more extraordinary. Although it's actually against the grain for her to let herself be married just like that, perhaps she will make an exception in this case, because since her earliest childhood she has wanted nothing more than an adventure.

taglist: @poisonedpatchoulis @tragediesoftory. If you want to join/leave the taglist, just ask or dm me! :)

#lillian sandino☆ #character intro #my writing #doll face #i love her tbh #this is how i aspire to be #my wip

[tunes-on-a-typewriter]

…ladies and gentlemen and distinguished folk that exist beyond the confines of the gender binary, i present: the crescent-moon princess, but in the form of a comic sans powerpoint.

taglist ( please ask or dm me to be + / - ): @austrohungarianwriteblr / @blueinkblot / @fields-of-ink / @metanoiamorii / @ollieoxen-freewriting / @pe-ersona / @tunes-on-a-typewriter

#this sounds honestly so cool #also you have the BEST oc names and nothing’s gonna change my mind #the crescent-moon princess #other people’s wips