|the beginning of something BIG|
Luciia and DorianLuciia and Dorian by thepolishgirl
- Stand! Down! Lestat O'Sharoewen! she hissed, as she struggle to conceal the effort it took to hold back both his scimitars with both of hers. Lestat's eyes were fixed on the black-haired prince, the yellow peace-lover who never even probably held a blade in his hands. The prince who had the nerve to turn down the arranged marriage with princess Luciia, daughter of the greatest warrior in history of Sirdon, who was now holding him back with her scimitars, trying to make it appear like it was easy. Lestat pulled back just enough to make it seem she's pushing him back, she'd been humiliated enough for the day already. As always, her face was inscrutinable, a stone mask, except for her eyes, which burned like two pools of molten gold.
- You dare to insult the princess to this extent? You insult not only her but the country of Sirdon! You insult King Razuul himself! yelled an
|artist's work I admire|
At long last! |
Demetrius Naryvonchyk, 25, current resident of Rubezhnoye, Ukraine, lover of Aviator sun glasses.
Current Residence: Ukraine
deviantWEAR sizing preference: LG
Favourite style of art: Photography