We're on the edge of Greatness, turning Darkness to Light
Before coming to Novus, Antiope would not have been able to tell anyone what a costume was. The idea of wearing anything without a practical purpose still doesn’t make much sense to her, but the custom is important to her people. So, she allowed the handmaids to choose something for her to wear.
In the end, the Night Court Queen supposed she looked nice. The majority of the costume was a wrap and cape—sheer and pale, the slightest touch of blue color—it fell across her hips and down toward the ground. It sparkled, like fresh snow or the frosty surface of ice. The garment wraps under her forelegs and up across her chest before flowing back into the rest of the cape, and where it goes over her chest it has been cut into icicle-like shapes that are longer in the middle that on the edges.
A sparkling embroidered snowflake decorated the center, with silver thread and small gemstones. On her head Antiope is wearing a white-gold diadem, inlaid with beautiful blue and clear gems; the largest of which rests against her forehead. All of the blue certainly brings out her eyes, if anything, and there is no shortage of second glances as she makes her way through the markets.
A small voice catches her attention and the sovereign turns to see Maeve bounding toward her through the crowd. Something in her wrenches, seeing the look of complete joy on the filly’s face. Antiope turns her lips up into a smile, and hides the shadows in her eyes with reflections of firelight. “Hello, little one,” she responds.
The striped woman glances up to check the area for Morrighan and sees the regent not far away at a food stand. It eases her to know the girl is not wandering around alone. “An ice queen, I’ve been told,” the description seems accurate of the costume, if not all that exciting. They turned a queen into a queen. Hopefully she’s not a cold one, at least. “And let me guess, you’re supposed to be… a djinn?”
“Speaking.”
In the end, the Night Court Queen supposed she looked nice. The majority of the costume was a wrap and cape—sheer and pale, the slightest touch of blue color—it fell across her hips and down toward the ground. It sparkled, like fresh snow or the frosty surface of ice. The garment wraps under her forelegs and up across her chest before flowing back into the rest of the cape, and where it goes over her chest it has been cut into icicle-like shapes that are longer in the middle that on the edges.
A sparkling embroidered snowflake decorated the center, with silver thread and small gemstones. On her head Antiope is wearing a white-gold diadem, inlaid with beautiful blue and clear gems; the largest of which rests against her forehead. All of the blue certainly brings out her eyes, if anything, and there is no shortage of second glances as she makes her way through the markets.
A small voice catches her attention and the sovereign turns to see Maeve bounding toward her through the crowd. Something in her wrenches, seeing the look of complete joy on the filly’s face. Antiope turns her lips up into a smile, and hides the shadows in her eyes with reflections of firelight. “Hello, little one,” she responds.
The striped woman glances up to check the area for Morrighan and sees the regent not far away at a food stand. It eases her to know the girl is not wandering around alone. “An ice queen, I’ve been told,” the description seems accurate of the costume, if not all that exciting. They turned a queen into a queen. Hopefully she’s not a cold one, at least. “And let me guess, you’re supposed to be… a djinn?”
a war is calling
the tides are turned
the tides are turned