Karnaca
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Nobody does know if they will find their proverbial whale on the coast, for them a-waiting, open ribcage cornucopia overflowed with the fruit of connaissance. He is not sure himself that he believes in the possibility of sticking his head there below whitebone arcs so as to pluck that shiny pearl of acumen, round as an eye and twice as small.
He will learn quick enough that when nature plays tricks, there is little man can do but kneel.
[On strange events observed at a remote fishing hamlet, 1859]
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There is something of the mythical in how the dim carves his body; statuesque, monstrous a little (surely no man ought to inspire another like so). In the curve of those sharp-drawn ribs he would find refuge, if he dared, and what of the marble-veined strength of his arms, or the tired sloping of his shoulders imitating a hill at rest? It’s only a soldier, wearing on himself his share of scars. It’s only a soldier. No one taught him soldiers could be beautiful, in the right light.
[Captain Jezal dan Luthar learns a thing or two about war.]
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He shuts his eyes for a spell, only to see the imprint of it on the back of his lids. A backlit silhouette and his warhorse, the dizzying pinpoint blast of sun on the tip of a cavalry boot. It makes him sick.
[On Major Collem West and his loyalty to golden men.]
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Beyond the house, only the high wrought iron gates still stand as they always have, proud, looming, with that splendid bearing the scion of the family was known for. Look at him now, slumped in his chair. Look at him lying in bed and asking for a helping hand to get up and stumble to his desk, look at him withering, an old man hardly thirty.
Still, on the inside of West’s closing eyelids, he is young, and beautiful, he moves with a dancer’s grace.[Major West visits his former commanding officer, much diminished, after his late return from war.]
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He had fine bones all over, not only his face— something mathematical and pure about the sketch of his ribs under pale white skin marbled with spiderveins. Something Alexander liked, and wished to like some more. Beautiful was not a word for men, but then he’d never seen Victor Kain’s bare body, and so could not have known.
[The rulers, ungoverned— Saburov and Victor Kain, after the pest.]
Recent bookmarks
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The night Asper Lindley met Lord Galing (and the origin of the silk).
Bookmarked by Karnaca
11 Sep 2025
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The world is Hell for you and me
But what a Heaven it will be
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Lumacchio comes to Véronique for sex, and she can’t help but obligeBookmarked by Karnaca
08 Sep 2025
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The container doesn’t matter. He wants only to join it. For dissolution. To be the soft grey sands of an hourglass, running through Laurence’s fingers.
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On death, and how to earn it, in the Hunter's Dream.
Series
- Part 2 of Dim-lit Halls for Ancient Dogs
Bookmarked by Karnaca
25 Feb 2024
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The Three Courtships of Lady Boyle by Smaragdina
Fandoms: Dishonored (Video Game) - Fandom
24 Mar 2013
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"This is why she is painted wearing white." The Ladies Boyle are not interchangeable; Hiram Burrows approaches and loves them in three distinct ways. Drabble.
Bookmarked by Karnaca
16 Jul 2025
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Gehrman and Maria are to accompany Micolash in the Fishing Hamlet, at the Provost's behest.
Bookmarked by Karnaca
03 Sep 2025