день 3
гильдия Ёжик в тумане

Эльза вспоминала тот бал в недавней юности, когда выбирали Мисс элегантность. В отличие от других участниц бала, которые шуршали криолинами в пол, она пришла в скромном голубом платьице, которое сшила сама в ночь перед балом. Это был ее первый бал и первый фурор! Она сыграла на контрасте, и ее выбрали Мисс элегантность.  Эльза сохранит это маленькое платьице цвета васильков, чтобы передать своей внучке вместе со вкусной историей о том, как на балу она познакомилась с ее дедушкой…

Подпись автора

Даже тигры любят игры!
Ррррррр! 🐅
f1ec22

Maryam 5b79b2
Level 459
Guild 🇷🇺 Отчаяuнные 🇷🇺
Day 3:
Lady Everette chose a rather simple ethnic gown to attend the annual ball. She was looking forward to enjoy the usual splendour, the beautiful costumes, the music, the dancing and the exchanging of gossip. Soon after she entered the Great Hall, a handsome stranger approached her requesting a dance. As they twirled around the room to the sound of a waltz, the stranger whispered in her ear: “Your husband is about to commit a grave mistake. You cannot even begin to imagine the consequences it will have for you and your family. A friendly advice, stop him before is too late.”
She was stunned, a chill ran through her veins. What did he mean? How could she possible stop her husband from doing something when she did not even know what it was?
That was the last time Lady Everette was ever seen.

Подпись автора

Maryam 5b79b2

Guild: Double D’s
DAY 4 — Always On Heels

The Path of Sandals
The silver sandals seem too fragile to have carried anyone anywhere, yet they pulse with motion's memory. She wore them the day she chose to leave everything behind—the war ended, her officer lost, the house sold. These sandals carried her down the marble staircase one final time, the chihuahua under her arm, then to ships and new countries where no one knew her grief. But here's their secret: forty years later, these same sandals brought her back. An old woman now, she returned to find this dressing room somehow preserved. She placed these sandals in their box, beside the gown, beside the tie, beneath where the chihuahua's ghost keeps eternal watch. The sandals had led her home, intentionally, to finally rest.

Подпись автора

LBB 

39e8b4

Guild Quest Day 4  Always On Heels
Guild:  Double D’s

The beautiful red evening shoes had waited years for Domika to slip into them again.
And on that last night—when the Manor's corridors seemed to hold their breath—they guided her as if they knew she would never return. The moment her feet touched their worn silk lining, a warmth rose through her, and the shoes tugged her gently toward the east wing. Past the silent portraits, past the pantry door that always creaked twice, down the narrow servants' staircase they had once traveled in secret.

They carried her out into the moon-lit gardens, to the old stone terrace overlooking the lake. It was there, years ago, that she had met the one person the Manor never approved of—her quiet, bright-eyed tutor who taught her more about freedom than about books. The shoes remembered that night, the shared laughter, the promise whispered but never kept. Now, they led her to the very spot where his hand had first closed around hers.

Bare branches rustled as if calling her name, and for a moment she felt him there beside her, as though time had folded in on itself. The shoes seemed to sigh, relieved to have brought her back to where her story had begun to change. And as Domika stood at the edge of the terrace, looking out over the rippling dark water, she understood: the shoes hadn’t taken her to relive the past—they had brought her to reclaim it, before she stepped into a life beyond the Manor’s reach, forever.

Double D’s Guild

DAY 5 – HOURS & KEYS  (and the thing that doesn’t belong)
Ticking softly beside the gold mechanical watch—which still refuses to leave 11:57 p.m.—lies something that has no business being there: a tiny, ornate gold key no longer than a lipstick. It isn’t Domika’s. No one in the dressing room claims it. Yet every night at exactly 11:58 (when the watch desperately tries to rewind), the key warms, rolls across the velvet cushion, and inserts itself into a lock that doesn’t exist… yet.
The dresses swear they’ve seen a faint door-shaped shimmer appear in the mirror on the far wall, just for a second. The sparkly sandals insist the key once whispered, “Third husband, zero annulments, happily ever after—guaranteed.” The black shirt snorts that it’s probably for a safe full of better decisions Domika never made. Pugsley the pug simply growls, “If that thing opens a timeline where I’m not chipped, I’m taking it and running.” The key, naturally, says nothing. It just waits, patient and golden, for the night Domika finally gets tired of fabulous disasters and decides to see what boring, blissful love looks like.

Conclusion
So the dressing room keeps its chaos and its punchlines, its ripped hems and runaway grooms, its drunken proposals and 3 a.m. weddings. Every catastrophe is lovingly pressed, folded, and displayed like couture.
But now there’s a key. A quiet, gleaming maybe. A door that might appear if she ever wants it.
Domika opens the wardrobe each morning, fingers brushing past the disasters she adores, and pauses—just for a second—over that impossible little key.
Some day she’ll try it. Or some day she’ll toss it into the pug’s velvet box with a wink and say, “Not today, darling. I’m still collecting stories.”
Either way, the wardrobe will be ready. It always has room for one more secret.

&del&

Отредактировано Lala (Вчера 06:37:53)

Подпись автора

LaLa a3d26b