Men's Second Style

No shepherds here. No wise men. No baby. No stable, either. No bright, bright star up in the sky. Just an angel. Read the rest of this entry »

Marie was late.

In and of itself, that was nothing new. Vraiment, she was always late. He ws convinced that this was not because she could not keep track of time (and anyway, she had ladies-in-waiting for that sort of thing). No, it was clearly a power play on her part. If she could keep you waiting, she was the one in control. And Marie liked being in control. In any case, if Marie expected you to wait…of course, you waited. Read the rest of this entry »

ow I know The Answer.

The Answer is Corbie Suit by hyasynth Tiramisu of Silent Sparrow. If I have to be more specific, Corbie in Ash (or limited edition Ghost).

Here is The Question: If you had to exist in Second Life with only one outfit, what would the outfit be?

For every-day walking around, I leave off the jacket and wear the jacket layer sweater like this. It is the balance of simplicity and character that I seek — simple rich black, but the interesting pattern of raven and vine on the left leg, on the right trouser cuff and on the back of the sweater.

The look of the sleeves — puffed but with elasticated wrists — is acheived by wearing the shirt layer and jacket layer together. The shirt layer arms are puffed but short, you use the jacket layer (or the tucked-in undershirt layer) to provide the wrists.

But if the occasion calls for a more formal look… Corbie also has a jacket. And it’s a great jacket! Read the rest of this entry »

Although it wasn’t specifically stated, one of my goals with this Winter Formalwear 2010 series was to present formal suits in a variety of styles, with little if any overlap. And so, having previously featured a tuxedo from RFyre, I found myself hesitating at first to include this beautiful suit from Lapointe Bastchild. However, since Raven Pennyfeather’s Wintertide tux was not specifically gothic in tone or execution, I felt justified in including another formal suit with distinctly gothic styling and detailing. Paul Lapointe’s Modern Black Ornate Tuxedo is outrageously luxurious, with a profusion of embellishments that catch the eye and intrigue the soul. Read the rest of this entry »

You’ll find TriloByte Zanzibar’s BlakOpal mainstore at BlakOpal (99, 102, 23).

It’s unlikely (although just barely possible) that you require an introduction to Lapointe & Bastchild, the collaborative goth brand by Paul Lapointe and Bastchild Lotus. After all, the brand has been around since, oh, somewhere around forever in SL terms. Why, even I myself have worn the occasional L&B design, whether shoes, jewelry or what have you. But woe unto me—for whatever reason or combination of reasons, before now I haven’t shown off any full outfits or significant clothing items. It’s more than past time for me to correct this error in my ways. Read the rest of this entry »

Belial was one of the four crown princes of the Underworld—or was it seven?  He could never keep track—and his pride knew no bounds.  He was especially proud of his own appearance, metaphysical though it might be.  He was constantly tweaking and re-working his more fluid aspects, looking for he knew not what, at least not quite, but he was confident he would know it when he found it.  This fascination set him distinctly at odds with all the rest of the legions of Hell, who rarely if ever made changes to their settled appearance.  Even the Morning Star, Lucifer himself, seemed to have grown tired and jaded.  It had easily been a thousand years since he had last been seeing wearing the shining, supernaturally beautiful face that had made him so famous in Heaven, before the Fall.  And that, Belial was pretty sure, had been for a Samhain party or some other costume thing Persephone had put on. Read the rest of this entry »

Plague never rests for long.

The plague doctor moves through dark cities, his heavy cloak rustling with each step, his leather shoes a whisper on the damp streets.  The world groans with sickness, and where there are labored breaths, aching shivers under blankets, and disease-dizzied minds, the doctor will go. Read the rest of this entry »

He did not know his own name.  It was an interesting conundrum, but neither entirely uncomfortable nor, it seemed, wholly unfamiliar.  He felt that he floated somehow in a peculiar limbo of personality.  He knew some things—what languages he spoke, what foods he enjoyed, that he had never known his parents—but little about his own self.

He did not know his own name, but he knew that he could fight.  His mind might be all but blank, but his sense memory was strong, and his body could do things he did not remember learning or training to do.  He felt his muscles tense and thrum as he moved, wanting to defend, yearning to engage, aching to attack.  He pitied the ill-advised fool who attempted to draw him into conflict; his day would not end well. Read the rest of this entry »

Mortis was bored.  He hadn’t gone anywhere in ages.  Well, unless you counted going to and fro on the earth, and walking up and down upon it.  Which he, himself, did not count.  He couldn’t believe he had ever let Lucifer talk him into that one.  When you came right down to it, it was hardly an enjoyable pastime—in fact, it was worse than jogging—and it wasn’t like he needed the cardio.  No, he wanted to go out and have some fun.  He wanted to go dancing.  Goth black boots or no, his feet were nimble and he knew how to trip the light fantastic.  If you asked Mortis, dancing hadn’t been the same since the end of disco.  That Travolta was one mortal who knew how to move.  Well, he had some moves of his own, if he did say so himself.  God, but the Seventies had been great.  On earth, anyway—everywhere else they had kind of sucked. Read the rest of this entry »