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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 17, 2018 22:13:20 GMT -5
I'm bored and avoiding doing my assignments - I'm open to any genre ~ maybe a medieval/fantasy kind of thing, but I'm open to other suggestions if you want (:
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 19, 2018 0:55:38 GMT -5
bump ~
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 19, 2018 2:01:35 GMT -5
(Medieval/fantasy sounds good to me~ Do you have any plots in mind?)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 20, 2018 4:34:10 GMT -5
{{ sorry for not replying sooner! we could do something like a thief/guard or assassin/royal if you're into that. i'm happy to work something else out as well if those don't interest you }}
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 20, 2018 18:11:44 GMT -5
(No problem~ Hm, those both sound like good ideas and I do like assassin/royal. Sounds like it has the potential for fun drama. Do you have any plots in mind? If not we can build a basic one together and expand as we go.)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 21, 2018 4:12:26 GMT -5
{{ royal/assassin sounds perfect to me! I don't really have anything in particular in mind - I'm happy to just kind of flesh it out as we go along unless you have something specific in mind? }}
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 21, 2018 5:34:41 GMT -5
(Hm, it could depend on what role you want- I'm good with either, though I mostly write males- And it could be the royal's personal assassin or someone sent to assassinate them, in which case they could somehow discover the plot and end up working together?)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 22, 2018 17:43:02 GMT -5
{{ Hey! So sorry, I forgot to reply to this yesterday!! I kind of want to do the assassin if that's okay, but will do the royal if you really want to do the assassin (: could be interesting to have the assassin be sent to kill the royal, but the assassin's plan doesn't work out and the royal ends up bribing them to tell them who hired them and then they work together to take the person down? }}
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 22, 2018 18:32:10 GMT -5
(It's okay~ I was busy too. ^^ I don't mind at all! I actually have a lot of potential royals that I'd like to try out~ Oh, I like it! I'll go hunt around for some royal candidates and we can choose who would work best~?)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 22, 2018 18:35:44 GMT -5
Sounds good! I've got an assassin I used in a previous rp that would work well for this, I'll try and find the form I used so you can have a description (:
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 22, 2018 18:39:54 GMT -5
Here's the form from the rp - don't worry about trying to fill one out or anything, just a basic physical description and personality is fine!
| υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк | Jocosa Ronnette | 19 | Anyone who pays in gold | assassin | The irony of this girls name is not lost on her. Influenced by the latin word for 'merry' or 'playful' it could be easily said that neither of those words really describe this young female. Sarcastic and straight-forward, she'll tell you what's on her mind in a heart beat, but you better be sure that you want to hear it. She's ruthless and willing to do what it takes to keep herself alive, in this case out smarting her competitors to get the top jobs. For such a young person, she's seen a lot and led a hard life, probably the reason she keeps everyone at arms length and doesn't trust anyone. She cut her auburn hair short, so it just touches her shoulders, a long time ago, figuring it would just get in the way of the job she ended up having to do. Speaking of, no one who's ever asked has found out how she got into the shadowey business she's in, and that's probably for the best. | n/a for now |
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 22, 2018 19:35:16 GMT -5
(A bunch of my royals are new so I'm trying to flesh out their actual characters real quick- Sure! I can do a form after we decide on one~)
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 22, 2018 20:06:49 GMT -5
(I narrowed it down to these three. ^^"
Conqueror King - Measured and commanding, a simultaneously ruthless and honorable king who is a bit too fond of terror tactics centered around his fearsome magical ability. This makes for a kind of decadent arrogance- basically he's incredibly haughty and has never done an honest day's work in his life- Straightforward and strangely poetic in a romantic sense. There is little that would prevent him from his goals, though what exactly they are not even he knows. He currently lives more or less aimlessly; his people neither hate nor love him and his enemies are wary enough not to be immediate threats. He believes his only purpose is to act as a living barrier between his kingdom and all who would seek to harm it. Thus he is often seen on the battlefield and handling other threats personally because that's all he can think to do. He complains of boredom often and causes trouble in court for entertainment. Likely an elf or fey.
Courtesan Prince - The former crown prince who was passed over as a playboy disappointment. On the surface, at least- It was actually revealed that he's an illegitimate heir and needed to be removed from the running. He'd much rather be dancing than fighting anyway, with a preference for the arts and more frivolous pursuits. Playful, flirtatious, and with an indomitable fondness for sweets, many mistake him for a mere courtesan or entertainer. A useful strategy- as he has the combat prowess, intelligence, and ambition to be a threat to the current monarchy. His cunning is surprisingly honest- He rarely if ever lies outright and always has others' best interests in mind. Though he wears a mask, it's usually just a brighter representation of himself as he feels he must always be a source of strength and positivity. Illness puts a strain on his magic, so it's used sparingly. Likely an elf or fey- he and the Conqueror are distantly related.
Figurehead Prince - He seems to be the only one who believes himself to have any power over things- Not that you could tell with how often he avoids lessons in favor of playing with the village children, feeding strays, planting flowers, singing with birds- Basically just being an effectively ditzy ruler. Disney Princess His father is sick and his mother has begun taking on more responsibility in his name, while his cousins clamor for power in the shadows. This too, he seems oblivious to. He's bubbly, compassionate, and eager-to-please, often seen helping out horrified servants and running errands for people who are meant to be miles below him in station. Idealistic and ever-bursting with sunshine, sparkles, and flowers that appear to bloom whenever he smiles- It seems a matter of course that he will die shortly before or after he becomes king. He's too soft and naïve to live, really- Or so it's believed. In actuality, he's much sharper and slightly less childish than he lets on. The machinations of court and efforts of others to manipulate him amuse him greatly. His reputation as a healer also does much for established underestimation of his abilities. Possibly a changeling.
(I'm not sure what kind of relationship you're going for-? but regardless, I think the Princes might have the best chemistry with Jocosa. Sunshine Meets Ice are always really fun interactions to read/write/play with~ The Courtesan is more concentrated sunshine and so will actively tease her & respond to her sarcasm while my Disney Prince will pretend that he doesn't understand it whilst getting her back by taking everything she says literally and responding in roundabout ways. Not because he's ever offended- He's just a troll. It's up to you though~ I'm okay with writing either.
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 22, 2018 20:24:52 GMT -5
I love the courtesan prince XD I think that would be hilarious!! And as for the type of relationship, I'm kinda happy to just see where it goes tbh with the courtesan prince I feel like there's a lot of potential for all different kinds of stages of relationships they could go through. Like sarcastic snarky, funny quick-wittedness, the ambitious streaks but also like a flirty, teasing relationship.
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 23, 2018 0:42:09 GMT -5
(Haha, great~! cx I thought he might click well with Jocosa in the way that they're opposites- Because he suits her name better than she does and is very roundabout to her straightforward nature. They'll be fun~ Oh! And on the relationships bit I meant that I'm not sure if this is meant to be a romance? Because I honestly believe these two can go through all of those~ From sarcastic snarky to funny quickwittedness, ambitious, flirty, and teasing- It would be more like different facets of one relationship than just one kind, as all of that applies to my prince- Whose name I have yet to finalize- Let me start on that form, then~)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 23, 2018 22:47:19 GMT -5
{{ ah! okay I misunderstood with the relationships bit (: We're on the same page with those things all being facets of one relationship, but I'm happy to see where it goes in terms of it develops into a romance. I think it could be interesting if it does, but I'm not sure if it's something that I would want to focus on right away (: and with the form - just his name, age, physical description and personality will be great - you can do a picture reference if you want, but you don't have to }}
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 24, 2018 0:02:06 GMT -5
Viscarian Ajacis Varisviel | 21 | Former Crown Prince of Esterra | Fey | Viscarian stands at a few over 5'10 with the svelte build inherent in most aristocrats. Flowing, often gold accented, clothing effectively hides sinewy muscles, the scars that he's accrued from many instances of combat, and his many magic-related tattoos, the most notable being golden interwoven runes linked to form a single chain that winds up his right arm from the heel of his palm to his shoulder before wrapping once around his chest and ending over his heart. His hair is a warm copper brown that is generally in disarray from a habit of running his hands through it, though somehow manages to be artful and attractive in order to suit his expressive handsome face. Vis' oblique eyes are odd-colored, not unusual amongst his kind but suspect in shade- Rather than being violet and gold like the rest of the royal family, his left eye is a soft carnelian and his right a faded gold. Both verge on sectoral heterochromia, as his right is colored in darker shades from top to bottom while the left is its opposite. Viscarian also departs from the norm of the royal family with a golden tongue piercing and many more lining his ears. He is never seen without a smile, expression bright and occasionally mischievous. Playful and insouciant, Viscarian doesn't seem to take anything seriously and takes everything in stride. The relegation to family embarrassment doesn't appear to have reduced his own zest for life, only allowing him the freedom to express himself in ways his stifled role struggled to curb.
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 24, 2018 0:03:13 GMT -5
(So did I. ^^' Sure~ That's what I thought too. ^^
Sorry it's late! I was out all day-)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 24, 2018 0:54:40 GMT -5
{{ Ah! He looks awesome I'm so excited for this! Here's a starter - just reply whenever you can, and let me know if you want to switch over to PM's I'll make it so that Jocosa doesn't actually know who has ordered your character to be killed and we can work it out as we go along - also you don't have to write as much as I have, my starters are normally quite long, but generally I do a paragraph. }}
Jocosa was slinking through the shadows, her normal hunting ground, looking for some pockets to pick. It had been some time since she'd had a job and her money was beginning to run out. It hadn't helped that her latest job had left her wounded and in need of a new safe house. The merchant had ratted her out, hoping to double his money by informing the guards. Unfortunately for him, that hadn't quite gone to plan, with the guards locking him up for even pretending to use her services. She'd only just been able to get away, but a stray crossbow bolt had grazed her ribs. Now she was back up and about, only a slight tenderness in her side as she leaned against an alley wall, eyes scanning the busy marketplace in front of her. Two nobles walked past her, their jewelry seeming to glint invitingly in the dimming light of the day.
Stepping from the alley, Jocosa began trailing behind them, planning on taking their jewels and selling them to a guy she knew for gold. If things went to plan, she would be well off for some time.
Before she could put her plan into action however, someone had a grip on her arm and she was being pulled into a building, four guys surrounding her, two holding her arms, before she could reach for a weapon. She mentally cursed herself for not realising that she was being tailed, but forced her body to become still, only letting her eyes roam the room around her, trying to determine what was going on.
"Jocosa. I've got a job for you." The voice was masculine, and loud, but failed to hold any real authority. Immediately, she knew that this was not the person who had actually wanted to hire her. As the speaker came into view, she confirmed that fact in her mind. It was an overweight, sweaty market stall seller, one that she had seen many times, yet not taken much notice of. These four, well-armed men surrounding her were an element of surprise that this seller could not afford. Looking him up and down, Jocosa raised an eyebrow.
"I'll listen. As soon as your men take their hands off me." She emphasised the word 'your', letting everyone in the room know that she saw right through their little charade. The men immediately released her, not waiting for the seller to say so. She scoffed at the lack of dedication to their plan. If you were going to lie, you stuck with it till the very end.
"The prince." The seller blurted, wiping at his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. It left a smudge of dirt across his forehead.
Jocosa frowned, her interest piqued. She'd do it, that was for sure, but only because she could charge ten times her normal rate. A royal was not an easy person to get close to.
"Well...the former prince. Viscarian." The seller clarified. Now that was even more interesting. The current heir to the throne could be expected to be a target, nobles were always trying to off each other to get closer to the throne, but a fey prince that had been kicked from the line of succession? They were only a few who would bother with the risk, let alone could afford to pay for it. Jocosa smiled, nodding slightly, her mind racing. Now this was going to be the most interesting job that she'd ever had.
"I'll take the job."
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 24, 2018 19:52:47 GMT -5
(Thanks~ And sure!
That goes for me as well, though! ^^" My introductions tend to be rather verbose...So respond when you can and please don't feel the need to match me!
I see your starter of reasonable length and raise you this monstrosity: I got a little carried away introducing him...Vis is surprisingly fun to write. ^^; ________
The general organized chaos of a waking castle began shortly before sunrise and continued well into the afternoon. The taps of rushing steps, muffled shouts of servants attempting to communicate across halls, general scrape-thud of heavy objects being moved and clatter of other various decorations and ornaments- they all combined to become a blight on his already skewed sleep schedule. Preparations usually weren't so...pervasive but the entire castle is keyed up and beginning to show it. The newly named crown prince's birthday celebration will take place in a mere days' time- His first as next in line and the first cause for any festivities after his predecessor's removal. They want to make it bigger, better- A mark of a new era and show of strength to their people. As a result, he's forced to languish through the increasingly demanding process and unholy work hours.
"Let me sleeeeeep you plebeians. You heathens. No respect-" Something clatters beyond his door and he whines into his pillow, flopping onto his stomach in order to bury his face into it. "Noooo-"
"My lord brother!" The bedroom door abruptly slams open and shut again in quick succession, the swish of fabrics alerting him to someone's rapid approach. Recognizing the distressed voice as situationally nonthreatening, the brunet takes his time to rise, running a hand through sleep-mussed hair as he settles on a welcoming smile whilst squinting at the figure through unruly bangs. "You have three seconds. One sentence."
Those three seconds are wasted with a wary scan of the relatively bare room, judgmental gaze lingering on the tousled bed, scattering of clothes, and a feminine scarf left twined around one of the chair legs. It looks vaguely familiar- "Time's up~" He singsongs, and is predictably answered by a harried rush of words as all attention returns to him.
"My lor- Viscarian- They want to cover everything in purple." The tone and wide mismatched eyes imply that this is a travesty of epic proportions. Viscarian very carefully does not sigh loudly and roll out of bed in a fit of childish pique. "Violet, and I'm sure they're very lovely shades." His tone is placating, now more awake- more as a defense mechanism than anything, there's no way this is going to be swift or easy; his brother is notoriously stubborn. Swathed in what should be courtly finery, the younger Fey shifts agitatedly at the foot of his bed. His auburn hair sticks up in random tufts that he hadn't managed to flatten, and dirt smudges his left cheek and the lower right corner of his dusky cerise mantle.
"But purple is- they can't-" He slashes a hand through the air in incoherent frustration and Viscarian arches a brow. "And what is so wrong with violet, Yukamyr?"
"It isn't red!" He snaps, flushing when his brother lights up. It's a process, a warm smile and soft gaze that shifts into a smug twitch of his lips and finally settles on a teasing glint in mismatched eyes. Red isn't all that sets the disgraced prince apart from his family, but it remains a sore point and evidence of his less than pure heritage. He had enjoyed flaunting it by often wearing sanguine shades and using it as a central theme in all festivities that he had presided over- A relatively small but amusingly effective act of rebellion. His favorite kind- His courtiers couldn't exactly complain- openly, at least- about his casual displays and so he was only subjected to dirty looks and whispers behind his back. Apparently they were now trying to put the past behind them, but his brother had recently taken up his torch by advocating for the color as well. The second prince found Viscarian's fall from grace- not that he really had it to begin with- abhorrent and always made a concentrated effort to ensure he wasn't forgotten or shunted aside. Not quite necessary, but appreciated nonetheless.
"Oh my~" Viscarian trills, turning away demurely to hide a grin behind his hand. "My lord brother seeks to honor me even on his special day! Such devotion toward a disgraced creature like myself~"
"I-" Yukamyr colors further. "I'm not- It's just my favorite color! And it's a tradition by this point, right? We should-"
Viscarian's eyes glitter as he struggles to keep his mirth contained. "You're going to make me blush, Yuki~"
Yukamyr's expression abruptly smoothes out and he moves purposely to the side of the narrow bed to lift a pillow with a pensive frown. "Very well, I admit it. I do want to honor you on my birthday- I thought we could have your wake on the same day to save us time."
Smile now tinged with puzzlement, Viscarian raises his brows. "Wh-" His brother suddenly launches forward and slams the pillow over his head with deathly intent. Viscarian goes down laughing, feebly fighting off the younger fey's attempts to smother him and only succeeding in kicking him off the bed. Yukamyr gets in one last hit as he falls, and they both end up sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows. The picture he's sure it makes is a familiar one- this isn't the first time Yukamyr has attempted fratricide by weaponized pillows, though it's usually followed by him demanding to be hailed as the 'the bestest prince forever'- Viscarian has yet to stop laughing as he sits up to look over at his brother, but his mirth subsides at the sight of Yukamyr's pronounced frown. The crown prince is still on the floor, pillow falling limply from his hands as he narrows his bronze-lavender eyes at the ceiling. He's always been rather mercurial, but lately the stress of being thrust into such an important role has resulted in the frankly ridiculous belief that having fun isn't becoming of a future monarch.
"You're going to be the bestest king forever." Viscarian asserts evenly, dropping a pillow onto his perturbed face. Yukamyr bats it off and jackknifes into an upright position, already mid-wild gesticulation. "But I'm not meant to be! I was going to be Commander of the Armies- that's what I'm best at! I can't charm insufferable dignitaries and sit through hour-long tales of someone's border disputes. Or pretend that I don't care or I do care or talk about taxes or second guess every single thing I do or sit in that garish uncomfortable-looking throne-"
"Can't you?" Viscarian wonders idly, tilting his head with a soft indecipherable smile.
"I don't want to." Yukamyr finally relents, with the mulishness inherent in many a fifteen-year-old boy. "Viscarian you're the better king-" He's interrupted by a vigorous ruffling of his already disheveled hair. Rather than protest or retaliate as he normally does, the younger prince simply lowers his gaze and allows his shoulders to sag, understanding that this is another end to one of his many appeals.
"Everything that means anything takes time, so let us use ours wisely, hm~?" Viscarian taps the furrow between his brows cheerfully before rising and clapping his hands together. "Now! Shall we go request that the ballroom be as red as the blood on your spear~?"
"Don't be morbid." Yukamyr mutters, straightening and making an effort to right his clothing as Viscarian starts toward the door. "Where do you think you're going?" He suddenly darts a hand out to haul the taller fey back by the collar of his robe, eyes narrowing.
Playing innocent, Viscarian merely affects an expression of angelic befuddlement as he stares back at his younger brother. "Out?" The play of emotions on Yukamyr's face is entertaining to witness. He finally settles on distaste. "Get dressed."
"I am dressed?" Viscarian glances down at his sable silk robe. It falls just past his knees in swathes of shimmering fabric, but the tie around his waist is loose and one sleeve has partly slipped off his left shoulder, baring much of the upper half of his body. He doesn't see a problem- other than the fact that he might inadvertently blind others with his beauty. They would be grateful if he's the last thing they ever see, so it'd all work out well in the end~ Yukamyr's expression twists as if he can read his brother's mind and the smile adorning his face. "What? This is a solid negotiation tactic. It's also a great marketing strategy, as I'm sure Faerna can attest~" He winks and his brother releases him with a noise of disgust. "This is her room-? Ugh, don't answer that!"
Yukamyr retreats to the door as if his debauchery is contagious and jabs a threatening finger at his smirking face. "Don't leave this room until you're wearing actual clothes!"
"You aren't king yet." Viscarian drawls, "You can't order me-"
Drawing himself up to his full height, Yukamyr affects the royal airs that he often forgets he has and somehow manages to look down his nose at his brother despite their height difference. "I can and I will ensure that nothing evenly remotely sweet is served today or even a fortnight from now."
Viscarian hisses, a sharp distressed intake of breath as the amusement melts from his face. "You are no king, Yukamyr, but the worst kind of tyrant-" Yukamyr only smirks as he slips out of the room with a parting 'decent clothing!' The door closes with a decisive click and Viscarian waits for the sound of his footsteps to fade away before he allows himself to slump against the wall, running a hand through his hair as he stares balefully at the deceptively innocent scarf on the scuffed floor. Dammit. He'd forgotten to dispose of it- A wonder, what blood loss can do to the mind. His former- and current- status was all that prevented the maids from entering the quarters to clean and discovering it sooner.
The lady Vena had been rather intent on capturing him before she moved against the remainder of the royal family, and was kind enough to repay his interest in her with a stiletto hidden in her gifted bouquet. The change in succession, gradual and practiced as it was, had inspired a disturbing number of would-be usurpers and assassins as of late- It would seem they were intent on making the crown prince's birthday a particularly memorable event. Viscarian rubs at his aching temple but finds himself smiling tiredly at the golden suggestion of sunlight peeking through closed curtains. He has work to do.
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 24, 2018 21:07:25 GMT -5
{{ oh wow haha you definitely win longest starter post! XD Viscarian is epic though, he and Jocosa will certainly have some...interesting interactions haha - my plan is for Jocosa to throw a knife during the ceremony, but she can miss or Viscarian can catch it or something, and as she goes to like slip away, he can maybe go after her and catch her? then they fight and he bribes her to give up who hired her and stuff }}
Jocosa was planning.
She had taken a job and was now getting down to business. There couldn't have been a better time for this job to come along either. She was running out of money, and the new crown prince's birthday was tomorrow. It would be the perfect opportunity to get in and get the job done quickly. Normally she would have been preparing for months, staking out the location, watching the person, figuring out their daily routine and the best way to, well...do her thing. Although almost all of her jobs were made to look like natural deaths, the people always knew the truth. For this one however, she didn't have time to do that. It would have to be quick and it would have to be obvious. She'd need to plan her escape route well. It was a good thing that she'd been inside the castle many times before. Taking a moment to reflect on the amount of corruption between the rulers of this land and the people directly below them, Jocosa mentally prepared herself for the coming day. Her plan was to simply mix in with the crowd, disguised as a one of the castle servants, rushing to get things organised, and then in the middle of the celebrations, where the disowned prince would be expected to make an appearance, she would let her throwing knife loose, before slipping away in the commotion.
It was a risky plan and a simple one. A lot of things could, and probably would go wrong. In her experience, however, the simple plans were the ones that normally ended up having the most back up options to get her out of trouble.
Jocosa was already up and moving before the sun had begun to fully shine over the village by the castle. She was walking through the streets, taking her time so as to not draw attention to herself. She had dressed as a castle maid, covering her recognisable red hair covered under a scarf wrapped around her head. Joining a small group of women as they made their way towards the castle for their daily duties, she was admitted entrance with barely a second glance by the guards at the gates.
Abandoning the group once she was in the complex of the castle, Jocosa made her way to the kitchen's back door, where deliveries were often made. Rapping lightly on the simple wooden door, it was quickly opened, a pale-faced young girl ushering her inside quickly. "Marnie said you had something for her," the young thing said quietly, almost hesitantly, refusing to look Jocosa in the eye. Producing a piece of paper from the inside of her sleeve, she handed it to the young kitchen maid who scurried off without looking back. Suppressing a grin, Jocosa weaved her way through the already busy kitchen, ignoring the slight rumbling in her stomach at the delicious smells wafting around her.
As she stepped into one of the many hallways of the castle, the sound of many tapping feet, and shouted orders greeted her. Oh yes, this was the perfect day for the job. In this commotion, anything could go wrong, she just had to manipulate the situation to her favour so that she could get her job done. Seeing a servant struggling with a load of what appeared to be table cloths, Jocosa rushed to help her with a smile, earning only a small look of confusion and distrust, before her help was gratefully accepted. For now, she had to blend in, make her face known so that people would disregard her when the time came.
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 24, 2018 22:50:47 GMT -5
( I never mean to! Xp Thanks! I'm sure they will c; Sounds like a plan! Also Jocosa is really clever, I can't wait to see them match wits~ And I can't find any real pictures that fit the Vis In My Head, but this comes pretty close: goo.gl/images/5oJkCS That is his exact hairstyle, but of course he has different colored hair/eyes and piercings- I'll get up a real reply as soon as I'm able~)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 25, 2018 20:36:50 GMT -5
{{ awesome! the picture reference is great to - it can be really hard to find one for specific character traits like Vis has (: - no rush to reply either, I get being busy XD }}
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Aug 30, 2018 21:14:22 GMT -5
(Ugh I'm so sorry for disappearing on you! >.<; School started and it's literally giving me the run around- But I have some free time so I hope to get my reply up sooner!)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Aug 31, 2018 4:47:32 GMT -5
{{ all good that's totally fine! That was me last week with all my uni assignments and probably next week as well knowing my luck XD }}
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Sept 1, 2018 23:54:30 GMT -5
Technically, he doesn't have any official duties. He's left to float along behind the scenes more or less as he pleases, seen as a nuisance that they can't quite rid themselves of yet. Which puts him somewhere between infamy and obscurity, but results in little attention paid to his movements if he plays his cards right. He knows that he's largely seen as useless- Viscarian's difficulty with magic may be a closely guarded secret but his apparent talent for merely looking and sounding pretty at all times is one that is well known. His father is likely waiting until after Yukamyr has been well-established to erase him completely. The only reason he has been allowed back into the castle at all is because Yukamyr insisted that his only sibling be there for his birthday. They haven't been able to see much of each other lately, with Vis reduced to an unwanted plus one and Yuki bounced between planners, instructors, and courtiers in the name of 'preparation'. Regretful- he truly did miss his little brother, and he'd rather remain nearby to keep an eye on him with the frankly terrible security as of late- but Viscarian must turn his mind to more pressing matters.
Or so he told himself during his 'rounds', which involved a fair amount of flirting and poking around his old haunts and places of note. He was surprised to discover the ways in which things had changed- never more evident than during the crown prince's birthday celebration, which took place in a massive ballroom that was bedecked in the traditional fey garlands, lanterns, gold, and glittering jewel-like flowers native to their forest home- As well as a few clashing instances of scarlet and violet, much to his open amusement. They had managed to compromise on gold, but hadn't been able to replace a few of the smaller decorations that remained the traditional colors or had been hastily turned red by an aggrieved chatelaine. This wasn't all that separated the celebration from his own- there were far more humans attending than any other race save the fey. During his time as crown prince, Viscarian had worked to cultivate a rapport with everyone from dwarves to goblins, much to his parents' disgust. Their preference for the more 'progressive' humans is obvious here, and is cause for concern if it will negatively affect Yukamyr's rule.
Viscarian muses over this as he nurses his third glass of wine, swirling it absently as he makes his way through the murmuring crowd. He had just freed himself from his latest circle of informants- gossiping lords and ladies of court- and is forced to avoid multiple propositions and invitations to dance in the interest of drawing as near to the grand staircase from which the prince is scheduled to ascend as possible. There's a gap in the meandering crowds just as Yukamyr is announced, and Viscarian moves to take it when a rapid chain of events abruptly derails his intentions. He catches a blur of something brown- servant's garb- in the corner of his eye as he lifts his head to seek out his brother. Shortly afterward, another blur- a buzz in his awareness- alerts him to an incoming projectile and he twists to the side whilst slipping his folding fan from its place at his hip, sweeping it upward and snapping it open and closed in quick succession to catch the throwing knife inches from his chest.
The movement was so swift and graceful- well practiced- that those around him simply believed him to be fanning himself, and Viscarian smiles disarmingly at a woman who had been momentarily distracted by the display before downing the remnants of his drink and setting it on a passing tray as he quickly retraces his steps back toward the outer edges of the ballroom. He doesn't alert anyone to the attempt on his life- he doesn't need the palace guard slowing him down and this is an important day for Yuki. He needs to take care of this quietly- and he somewhat regrets the decision when his quick sweep turns up nothing. Viscarian runs a hand through artfully disheveled hair as he swiftly catalogues all available modes of escape when he recalls the glimpse of a nearby servant. The lower ranks shouldn't be here unless they were quietly affixing the last of the lanterns in the corners but it was possible- and the cut of the fabric suggested a young girl- he tracks her down before she slips into one of the servant corridors and manages to talk information out of her.
She was sure that she was the only servant to enter the ballroom since the festivities began, but there had been another helping her- It was a start. Viscarian trailed his fingers along the walls as he followed the passage to its completion at a pace he normally wouldn't assume in public. The walls were coerced into sharing the passing of those before him at his behest, though their voices were muted and indistinct. He almost believed he'd taken a wrong turn when he caught a glimpse of fabric whipping around the corner ahead of him. A possible confirmation but- the walls weren't even sure it had passed and his magic could barely detect it. Exactly how skilled was this assassin?
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Sept 1, 2018 23:56:06 GMT -5
(So now I can write. ^^'
Also I finally decided that Vis's magic is connected to his love of hearing his own voice. He can talk to pretty much anything and get an answer.)
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Sept 4, 2018 4:01:01 GMT -5
{{ and then I get really busy XD this is gonna be one of those 1x1's that takes months because we keep missing each other when replying haha }}
Jocosa had an armful of lanterns. A skilled assassin, helping a serving girl put lanterns out. If anyone could see her now, she'd be the talk of the underground for months. Following behind the servant who was affixing the last of the lanterns, Jocosa listened to the gossip of the nobles around her, also trying to get a glimpse of the disinherited prince she was supposed to kill. Realising that her time was running out, as the nobles began to form some sort of formation beneath the grand staircase dominating the room. Her arms finally free from lanterns, Jocosa silently followed behind the servant girl as they went to quietly leave the room without disturbing the proceedings. Before they left, however, Jocosa swiftly pulled a knife from the inside of her dress, the slender weapon resting along the inside of her arms as she held it close to her. Slowing her pace to be even further from the servant in front of her, Jocosa waited until the new prince's name was called, and then swiftly drew her arm back and shot it forward, sending her weapon hurtling through the crowd towards her target. She'd seen him move to take up an empty space when his brother's name was called - there was no mistaking him among the crowd.
Knowing that her aim was true, Jocosa began moving again immediately, hurrying after the other servant girl and out of the door. She already knew that something had gone wrong. Making her excuses, claiming she had to run somewhere to fix one of the visiting noble's rooms, Jocosa hurried off, hoping her face wouldn't be easily remembered. There had been no outcry from Viscarian, or those surrounding him, not even the sound of a body falling to the ground. Her knife had missed, that much she knew for sure - why was the question. Not that it mattered. She had to get out of here before they started questioning everyone and pulling the place apart looking for her. Although her servants disguise had served its purpose, if they were looking for an intruder, no amount of pretending could save her. Turning as many corners as possible, hoping to take an unpredictable path, Jocosa forced her mind to focus on the task at hand.
She wanted to know how the prince had seen her, figuring that that was the only possible explanation for him not being on the ground with a knife in his chest right now. He had seen her, and stopped the attack. But that should mean that he was right behind her, however, at this moment no one was. Maybe because this was her first job in a while, she had actually missed him. No. She would have heard the knife fall to the ground if that had been the case. No, the only possible explanation was that somehow, he had stopped her attack, and yet hadn't alerted the guards. Because, surely, if he had done that, as was his every right, then the sounds of metal clanking would be filling her ears as guards ran about the castle, disturbing everyone in a vain attempt to find her.
Jocosa, snap out of it.
The harsh reminder served its purpose as she turned another corner, and then, thinking she'd gone far enough for now, slipped into the nearest room. Luckily for her, it was deserted. Figuring she could make up an excuse she was indeed fixing a visiting noble's quarters if anyone came in, hoping it would be enough to at least slip away and get out of the room, she opted to not lock the door, but stood beside it, pressing her ear to the wood - listening to hear if anyone had actually come after her.
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Post by Quod Ad Nox Noctis on Sept 15, 2018 4:57:14 GMT -5
(It certainly looks like it. ^^" I apologize for the delay! And sucky quality...)
Viscarian tracks the assassin to a guest room a short ways from the servant's passage. The walls have gone silent and his breath is coming fast and erratic despite not having physically exerted himself overmuch. Still, he takes care to regulate his breathing and soften his foot falls as he approaches, slipping the knife from his fan and into the confines of a trailing sleeve before straightening and sweeping into the room with his usual flair, a bright, flirtatious grin on his face when he sees the room's sole occupant. So this human is his would-be assailant. Interesting. "Considering the duchess' aversion to...warm tones, I'm going to have to assume that you aren't she." He muses, arching a brow before sweeping into a bow that one familiar with the culture would know to be mocking. Rather than lower his head, he keeps his gaze on hers yet allows his body to be vulnerable for those silent seconds before he straightens. "I am Viscarian of the Pivernel Hall," he gives her a conspiratorial smile. "But surely you already knew that~" The fey then affects a mildly curious expression and cants his head at her. "What are you doing back here when the servants have been ordered to the kitchens? Lady Vena didn't leave you with another message for me, did she?" He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. "She refuses to meet in person. Intimidated by my charm, no doubt." Viscarian lifts a shoulder and rolls his eyes in a 'what can you do' gesture. "Well, never mind that." He begins to approach with a deliberate stride, charming grin just a little crooked. "I'm sure we could find other ways to entertain ourselves, wouldn't you agree~?"
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Post by υиdεяcσνεяѕнεяlσcк on Sept 16, 2018 1:01:40 GMT -5
Jocosa began worrying at her bottom lip when she could not hear anything. Maybe she had managed to slip away, but it was too soon to tell. She would have to wait here for a while longer. Just as she was about to pull away from the door, Jocosa frowned, sure that she had heard something. A footstep maybe, or a breath. Either way, someone was outside the door. Stepping away quickly, Jocosa hurried to the other side of the bed, bending as if she was fixing the covers.
Sure enough, the door burst open, and Jocosa let a suitably surprised reaction settle over her face, and then downcast her eyes as she realised who it was exactly that had followed her here. Her target had come back to her, now that was interesting. Unsure why he had thought too look in this room in particular - but hoping it had been random luck and he'd just been pulling doors open, Jocosa's mind began forming a new plan. She'd messed up once, but she had the chance to finish the job now. She had to get it done. She needed the money.
Jocosa kept her eyes down, looking at the fey's feet as he spoke, nodding mutely when he said that he assumed she wasn't the duchess. She barely saw the bow he offered her, but held back a glare when as she noticed it was a rather mocking one. Jocosa had made it her mission to try and understand everything about her target and the life he had lived and was living in the short time that she had and so also knew that this was some kind of test. Although she could hope otherwise, Jocosa was too smart to think that Viscarian didn't know exactly what she was doing here, and what she had done. The question was, what game was he playing now, and why?
Deciding to play along for now, Jocosa just nodded again as he introduced himself, keeping her eyes glued to his feet, as was proper custom for a servant in front of any noble ranking person who was addressing them. Jocosa had opened her mouth to reply to his question of why she wasn't in the kitchens, but the fey kept talking before she could, and so Jocosa contented herself with keeping her lips sealed. As soon as his feet began to move, and Jocosa recognised this movement towards her for what it really was, she dropped to the ground, sweeping her legs towards Viscarian's, sending him to the ground with the surprise move. Knowing that that could only work once, Jocosa pressed her slight advantage, and grabbed the dagger from her boot, pressing the blade to the fallen prince's throat as she straddled his waist. "Oh I'm very entertained now." She said with a charming smile.
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