Dany gasped. They were the most beautiful things she had ever seen, each different than the others, patterned in such rich colors that at first she thought they were crusted with jewels, and so large it took both of her hands to hold one. She lifted it delicately, expecting that it would be made of some fine porcelain or delicate enamel, or even blown glass, but it was much heavier than that, as if it were all of solid stone. The surface of the shell was covered with tiny scales, and as she turned the egg between her fingers, they shimmered like polished metal in the light of the setting sun. One egg was a deep green, with burnished bronze flecks that came and went depending on how Dany turned it.
▪Ewer with Scene from the Triumph of Scipio.
Decoration designed and executed by: Thomas John Bott, Jr. (English, 1854 - 1932).
Made by: Worcester Royal Porcelain Company, Ltd. (Worcester, England, 1751 - present)
Place of origin: Made in Worcester, England
Medium: Porcelain with enamel and gilt decoration.
The Dinner Partyis a table set for 39 female guests of honor. Each place setting has a unique plate with vulvar form imagery, an embroidered runner executed in a style appropriate to the individual being honored, as well as handmade cutlery and a chalice. The Primordial Goddess setting, the first in Judy Chicago’s iconic artwork, celebrates female creator gods of the Paleolithic. On this theme, the coil around the letter “P” on the calfskin runner represents early baskets and pottery made by women.
[scene takes place after the laptop scene and before S’s death]
-“it’s okay-I’m okay… just give me a minute..
She dragged her feet through the bathroom.
The basement was suffocating.
She turned on the switch.The bulb was
burned out . Οther than the fainted light coming through the glass blocks, the
darkness was engulfing. Humidity was everywhere. From the sticky droplets on
the mirror, to the porcelain enameled steel of the bathtub.
Steaming hot water was cascading in the
bleached oval surface while she was silently undressing.
It felt more like a ritual. Peeling off her
First, her rings. Then her necklace. Last,
her scattered clothes left on the heater.
Imperceptible music was coming through the
half closed door.
unspeakable question.Or a silent invitation.
Abstract downbeat sounds were gradually calming
her and damn she needed a joint.
The water was rising, cocooning her, as she
was sinking in the tub ungracefully.
Her glasses steamed up and the atmosphere was so heavy she could
actually feel herself evaporating.
She tilted her head, leaning behind, trying
to grasp and control her tangle of emotions.
a 6 digit number?
rather a disposable label..?
life just a footer in a confidential
paper and you, desperately trying to escape.
Two hands grazed her skull.
Too gentle. Barely noticeable.
hit you inexplicably hard, made your pulse racing like a maniac.
to yell “feel me. Touch me.Get inside.”
You say nothing instead.
-“Talk to me..” she begs and you open your
mouth but no words come out.
Everything is unfocused and her voice makes
you weak. You close your eyes losing yourself in the process.
Her palms barely touch your jaw while she
takes off your glasses.
You feel vulnerable.
She breathes out, slowly cleaning your lenses
as if they were her most valuable possession.
You get fixated with her bottom lip-always
trapped between her teeth when she’s worried.
-“Dis moi ce que tu veux..” she whispers and
you don’t even know how to answer..
You sink deeper into the tub ‘cause for the first fucking timeyou’re free and you don’t know how to deal
feel greedy-want to make up for the time lost- and at the same time you seem
is too much and your reluctance is ruining the moment.
You start biting your nails, unable to look
her in the eyes, but suddenly she’s calm.
She’s barefoot so you can’t hear her footsteps when she
leaves the room.
Two minutes later she returns, toying with
your favorite lighter and a smile.
You recall the day you taught her how to roll- both totally baked and intoxicated.
It was the first time you let it slip past your lips.
i love you.
notes: oook guys don’t be too harsh cause that’s my first fanfic attempt in a non-native language (i am greek yo)…i got no betas so pardon my grammatical/syntax errors.. i truly tried my best :P
thanks for reading and any feedback is really highly appreciated, love ya all <3
Martial Ambitions Aside, Do Not Forget Breakfast: Morning Rituals detailed off a pair of Chinese Enameled Porcelain Cups of Early Qing Dynasty ( 1636-1644), the Qing Dynasty was the last to rule China, prior for China to turn io a republic form of leadership in and after 1912… Eggs Are Good for You!