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Post by oвlινισи ✧ on Jan 22, 2019 22:10:35 GMT -5
*pets cloudy* there there
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Post by oвlινισи ✧ on Jan 22, 2019 22:20:52 GMT -5
I’m on both but we’re mostly on Sach’s And yeah we’re just texting I’m in no like position to be able to voice chat cause my parents would be like “um hello” xD maybe in the future when I’m like alone in the house LMAO
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Post by oвlινισи ✧ on Jan 22, 2019 22:21:13 GMT -5
DFKZJWKCJJS THAT EDIT REMARK THO GLOW
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Post by desdemona on Jan 22, 2019 22:32:24 GMT -5
-- kai nicollier ; selyria.
He knew Kean was coming--the Queen of Calea had sent a messenger that arrived a few days prior--and he was excited. Kean meant good business, so when the man in question showed up at the inn, Kai called over one of his employees to take over the bar while he dealt with his customer.
"Of course sir, and I have a room ready for you." As per usual, Kean would be staying the night; it made no sense to set back out at this point in time. It was dark, and along with various wildlife, the route back wasn't safe after the sun had set because of bandits and, currently, warring nations. Besides, Kai didn't spill the beans over his counter, that would be stupid and easily found out. So, considering the bar doubled as check in, Kai opened a locked cabinet and retrieved a key unique to the room at the end of the hall. He then helped Kean with his things and brought them to his usual room. It was the farthest from the tavern, and therefore the farthest from eavesdroppers. There shouldn't be footsteps heard at that part of the hall either, so anything out of the ordinary would be heard.
After getting Kean settled, Kai leaned against the wall with a smirk not much unlike a cat. "You know the drill, sweetheart, I'm going to need the deposit first." He never started without payment since that was just a poor business model. Granted, if he had anyone try to skip the bill, he would easily cut them down. Another pro of working in his own inn--they had nowhere to run, really. The cost for what Kai had this time was high--both because of the customer and because of the contents. He had people report to him, he had ears everywhere, and this particular tidbit came just at the right time considering Anaris was getting antsy. A lot of what he sold was traitorous, so if his Kingdom found out he would be hung. Not that he was concerned about that, but it was another excuse to raise the price. And, considering, it was worth the cost. Getting information on Selyrian troops and Vellevyn advancements was not something you came across every day.
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inky
I'm a free woman again! At least until the semester starts up :D
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Post by inky on Jan 23, 2019 3:04:02 GMT -5
Selyria- Inn Kean
The tall man looked down at the other man for a moment, glancing at the other person who worked there and followed him shortly after. He knew this was something secret and it wouldn't be too weird for a hooded man to come into a bar where thieves and every of dangerous thing was running around, but still. The Queens safety and discreetness was his main objective. Setting his rather large sword against the wall beside the bed in the room which was much more than the regular rooms at the in, after he'd brought somethings and Kai had been kind enough to make it more suitable for a lord. Not that he cared too much, but he had been raised rich his whole life and was accustomed to more than a common inn bed.
Once the other man spoke he looked at him, his eyes locked on him, he trusted Kai, but very little. He was an informant after all, it was his job to tell people things for the right price. It was a good thing Calea was rather rich thanks to the large trade market. He pulled out a small bag, that had a good bit a coin in it. "You also know the drill." Kean paused smirking a bit as well. "You get the other bag after I get my information." He knew as well as Kai that if he was not given the information, or any word of his visit got out or anything he didn't like happened that he could swing the two handed sword with one hand if his temper snapped. But, he wouldn't do that, not yet. "Sweetheart." He added with a small laugh, unable to take himself seriously after saying that. "I mean it is a big sum of money you've asked for this time and I just need to make sure you've got what I need."
After dropping over half of the payment in Kai's hands he settled back onto the bed. "Now, the Queen told you she needed information on the attack. We want anything and everything you have on the movement on any of the kingdoms. Do they come for our market. Do they plan a full take over or simply a land claim. Any information, from number of men to plans" He said as he began removing clothing to sleep. Calean people were not very ashamed of showing anything. It was rather normal to see people nude for them, some religious practices required it actually. Plus it wasn't like he'd been wearing too much to begin with. Under the thick blue coat rested the traditional Calean armor, though the mark of his house was missing, in case things went wrong he would be taken as just a regular guard or tribesmen not the Queen's brother. He didn't really care if it made anyone else feel odd or any other kind of way, he'd traveled horseback for a few days now and it had grown tiresome.
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Post by desdemona on Jan 23, 2019 9:27:02 GMT -5
I'll reply at some point today, yeeye ]]
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Post by desdemona on Jan 24, 2019 0:47:04 GMT -5
I must... reply... ]]
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Post by desdemona on Jan 24, 2019 1:24:38 GMT -5
-- kai nicollier ; selyria.
The only reason Kai gave Kean a nicer room was because, technically, he paid for it. Not that his regular rooms were bad, Kai of course had enough money to make the inn very comfortable. He didn't want it to be luxury, however, because although that would bring higher class people and therefore more money, it would raise his conspicuousness. Instead, he paid his employees well and he saved a good amount just in case.
Having caught the pouch, Kai opened it to survey the coin with a quick, overall count in his head. He wasn't going to dump it out to count, he knew there was enough. Kean and Calea had not faltered in the past, and they would not now--especially not with the war.
"Selyria cares not for your country--as of right now, it has no use. It's the farmlands they want, and they want it all. Brasmid would not tolerate self-governing," he says, twirling with pouch in the air by its tassels as he watched Kean get undressed. As Kai always did, of course--he would never sleep with a client, forget a high born, but it wasn't as if there was nothing to admire. He was a soldier and his muscles showed it, as did his scars. "
Now, for the fun part. I'm assuming you know that Selyria has been succeeding thus far--but I've gotten word that they were forced to fall back at Lupin's Valley. Vellevyn forces have finally increased, which have halted Brasmid and his crusade. However," he says, grinning as he meets Kean's eyes again. His own sparkled with this weird mix of mischief and glee--why, gossiping was just so fun, especially when you were paid to do it. "They are mostly sellswords. Which means that, if Brasmid wants, he can simply pay them to fight for him. Vellevyn may have gotten the forces, but they are as loyal as I am. And the kingdom has the money, Kean, so I would be concerned about it were I you." As he swang the pouch, the coins in it clinked almost harmoniously. The sweet sound of gold.
"Oh!" Kai exclaimed, still grinning in a way that suggested he was only acting surprised. "I almost forgot." A lie. Kai didn't forget, that would be, again, a bad business practice. "Brasmid has returned to the castle to find his sister Lady Amberle taking residence, with rooms being prepared for his mistress and son. Why, if someone wanted to form a coup, there's no better time. The whole damn family's there," he snickered, offering a suggestion for Calea to undermine Selyria at the head. "I do know a good guy for it, but you aren't the type to hire assassins. Anyway. I do believe I've deserved my full payment now, sweetheart," he coos, smirking as he gazes down at a mostly undressed Kean.
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Post by desdemona on Jan 24, 2019 1:38:00 GMT -5
hes a little bitch ]]
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Post by desdemona on Jan 24, 2019 2:08:22 GMT -5
I'll probs reply tomorrow do you have discord? ]]
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Post by desdemona on Jan 24, 2019 19:18:11 GMT -5
mood I'm skiing this weekend so I'll be a bit inactive, but I can be on at nights ]]
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ℊℓоω
ɴᴏ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴏɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss
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Post by ℊℓоω on Jan 24, 2019 20:22:16 GMT -5
»Brasmid Redfowle ;; Selyria
At the mention of his son, Brasmid's expression shifted downward. It was difficult to tell precisely what he was feeling, for he cast whatever it was before it reached his features.
"Why don't you just pluck him out of that house and bring him here?! His mother will get over it. I want my nephew here with us," Amberle said sharply. "He deserves to live like this. A Redfowle deserves nothing less."
Brasmid gave a small, contemplative nod, then reached for a slice of bread. As he was buttering it, he said under his breath, "His name, technically, is Harlowe. But your point stands. You're absolutely right, he does belong here under this roof. Unfortunately," he set the bread back down on his plate as if he had suddenly lost his appetite. "His mother would rather he stay in the city with her. My staff is in agreement that it would be better my son to be raised among the common folk, so he is brought up 'without a sense of entitlement'," bitterness steeped his words. He sat back in his chair, frowning. "Besides, I think he prefers living with his mother."
"You're right, of course. I'll send for him in the morning."
The king had no reservations about sharing any of this with his sister. They were always of the same mind when it came to such matters. He didn't care if Scout was born to a common merchant's daughter. It didn't matter that he was born from an illegitimate union. What mattered was that Brasmid's blood flowed through his veins. The problem, of course, was that bastards throughout Selyrian history were never even recognized by the state. The people of Selyria believed bastards to be of no social or political standing, regardless of their parentage.
What really mattered was that Scout had never shown a particular interest in living in the palace. He would stay there for periods of time, amused by the excess of food and entertainment and places to explore. He shouted with glee when he was given his own room. He was given a tall black horse and his own butler and enough sweets to make his stomach ache. But Brasmid could see that he was hesitant to call it his home.
Ultimately, though he wouldn't admit it even to Amberle, he feared he wasn't a good enough father. He was too guarded. He didn't have enough time to spend time with the boy in order to establish a true connection. Unlike most fathers, he had not been there to hold his child the night he was born. He hadn't even known Scout existed until he was nearly seven years old. He felt guilty for missing such important milestones in the life of his son. But he also found it difficult to pick up the role of doting father.
Thankfully his sister steered the conversation to more mundane topics.
"Aila would rather eat with the witches and the dungeon gargoyles than with us," said Brasmid. Finally he turned his attention back to the food, tearing away a piece of his bread. "And Leon is above our lowly company. Send for them if you wish but don't expect them to come. The pair of them ought to be whipped for their insolence." It was a joke, but you wouldn't guess it from his tone.
»Ysara Balleirak ;; Brisingar
The pair steered away from the staff and the other courtiers. Marcellus' entire retinue seemed to be out and about. They stood in groups, chatting about the weather or about hunting. Some wore dark expressions and spoke in hushed voices. Ysara guessed they were discussing the news from the south. It seemed the world was tensed for a shifting of some kind. Everyone was on edge.
Everyone, that is, but Ysara and Thierry. The prince and the courtier ambled in the direction of the stairs. Then, when they were out of sight, he said, "There is more than one way to get warm. What did you have in mind?" Thierry's expression was neutral, but Ysara could see a familiar glint in his dark green eyes.
She smiled leaning in and resting her hand on his chest. Then she said softly, craning her neck so she could look him square in the eye. "Well, of course exercise gets the blood flowing, so perhaps we could go hunting. But then we'd have to organize chaperones and prepare the horses and the hounds. So maybe it's best if we stay inside. Then there's sitting by the fire but that won't do me much good in all these skirts." She rattled off ideas with an expression of faux contemplation. "Drinking mulled wine? No, it's still early for that. Hmmm." Her blue eyes tracked back toward where they had come from.
"Well none of those ideas are any good," she said brightly, refusing to cease her performance. She leaned in a fraction of a degree more, close enough to be kissed. "So I guess I'll just being going home. Have a pleasant evening, your majesty." Then she spun away on the balls of her feet and stepped toward the door.
»Vespyr Lindon ;; Vellevyn
Vespyr's eyes crinkled with a smile when Daissa agreed to stay at the local inn for an night. A soft kiss was placed on her cheek. "Good!" she exclaimed. She returned the gesture, placing her hands on either side of Daissa's head as she gave a more purposeful peck to her wife. "Right then." She stared into the electric blue optics before her, wishing she could transfer all her strength to Daissa with a mere look. "Let's get off this bloody boat."
Of course they couldn't simply leave. There was unloading to be done, and the boat had to be prepared for docking. Ves was beckoned up the mast to help take down the main sail. She climbed up nimbly, then straddled the beam as she instructed a younger sailor how to untie the knots. The sun was slowly sinking into the ocean like a grounded ship. It turned the waves golden and red, though the blue remained in the murky depths. By now the merchants were gathered on the dock, taking the crates they purchased from the coin master. The air slowly grew cooler.
Not long after, Ves jumped down onto a barrel and then onto the deck. All the most important tasks were done, and the younger members of the crew would be assigned the last of the jobs. "I think we can go," said Ves as she joined Daissa. She exchanged a look with the Captain and he gave a short nod of permission.
Ves lead the way down the ladder and onto the dock, standing to wait as Daissa jumped down after. They knew the small port well, and they required no words of confirmation to know they were headed to the one reputable inn. It was just a small walk down the pier. They'd been there before for drinks with the crew, but never to stay the night. Normally they simply pushed on to their hometown, walking or sometimes renting a pair of horses. On one occasion, they had sailed in only to spot Iwan on the dock. Vespyr remembered his gleaming smile as he held up the reins of the family's pair of dappled gray horses. I thought you ladies might want a ride, he had called up to them.
The inn was rather quiet. Most of the townspeople were either on the dock or awaiting their nighttime meals. There was a man sitting at the bar who nurses a drink between his hands. There was at least one open table, but Ves always preferred talking to the bartender than retreating to some private corner. "Evening, gents," she greeted, addressing both the innkeep and the man who sat at the bar.
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Post by oвlινισи ✧ on Jan 24, 2019 21:30:33 GMT -5
Amberle RedfowleSelyria
Brasmid first responded with correcting his dear sister, as always.
“His name, technically, is Harlowe.” Forget the technicalities. Amberle blatantly rolled her eyes at the remark, but thankfully her brother still agreed with her overall point. She was absolutely right, he had declared. Of course, she was. The woman nearly made a snarky reply but held her tongue, studying Brasmid in tense silence. “My staff is in agreement that it would be better my son to be raised among the common folk, so he is brought up 'without a sense of entitlement.” That was complete bullshit and Amberle didn’t have to comment at all for him to know what she was undoubtedly thinking. It was written all over her mien like an aggressively painted picture, the way her face contorted with vexation and bafflement.
Without a sense of entitlement.
Ridiculous. Scout may have been a bastard, but he still had Redfowle blood running through his veins, and therefore should be treated as such. Should he not be treated as such? He deserved it, just like his father, aunts, and uncle did. Peoples’ opinions on the new royal family did not deter Amberle from acting and thinking the same as she always did. Anyone who thought otherwise were merely sad and jealous. She refrained from releasing a groan at all of his words, instead setting her glass down onto the table rather harshly. The staff members in the room visibly flinched at the sudden action, and perhaps exchanged a look or two with each other, but said nothing and continued going about their business.
Amberle did give a mildly pleased hum when Bras announced that Scout would be sent for come morning. Good. Perhaps Auntie Amberle could change the boy’s mind. She scoffed out loud at the prospect of his feelings not being swayed, leaning forward slightly.
“How could anyone prefer to live anywhere other than a palace?”
It was a rather under-the-breath remark, but still had the usual, sharp hiss lingering in her tone. She was just baffled at anything other than their own lifestyle. What was new?
Brasmid mentioned their siblings and she agreed with a grumble as she took a sip of the wine. “I won’t bother,” she declared sharply, deciding to let their siblings wallow in their own holes. “After all these years, one thing still remains the same, Bras.” Amberle raised an eyebrow as she eyed the glass’s liquid contents. “You’re the only one I can truly count on.” She murmured, her eyes flashing toward him. She smirked quietly and continued. “To the ones you can count on,” she said dramatically with a sigh. Amberle held her glass toward him, waiting for him to grab his own before she clanged hers against it in toast.
Thierry DreyfordBrisingar
Everyone was discussing the news from the south. That was the only topic of conversation that seemed to be shrouding the cold kingdom. The atmosphere itself was full of gossip, flowing in through the chilly breezes. Brasmid the Conqueror and his accomplishments seemed to overshadow Marcel himself at the moment. It was a drama filled world nowadays, although perhaps there had always been a lot of drama. The Selyrian attack merely heightened all of it, some eating it up like a drama play. That kind of gossip was not coming from the lips of the prince and the courtier, however.
Thierry’s head had been focused on the south before, but now, he only seemed to care about her.
Ysara was a tease. She always had been. It was a part of the charm that drew him in, although everything about Ysara drew him in. That little comment he made seemed to amuse her, and he instantly knew she was about to give him a speech of dramatic contemplation with underlying playfulness. Thierry remained still, even as she looked him dead in the eye. They were both remaining calm and collected. “Then there's sitting by the fire but that won't do me much good in all these skirts,” she had rambled. Thierry’s body didn’t move, unless you counted his eyes, which nonchalantly flickered downward when she said that.
Mhm.
“Well none of those ideas are any good.” Ysara kept on with the façade, and Thierry narrowed his eyes slightly when her face became very close. Her lips could practically be brushing his. “Have a pleasant evening, your majesty.” Thierry finally tightened his jaw when she spun on her heel in a dramatic manner, the man cracking a smile before he followed suit.
“No,” he murmured, smoothly slipping his hand into hers, “My pleasant evening has only begun.” He pointed out quietly, intertwining their fingers and glancing down at her. Thierry gave her a small but caring smile. Without glancing behind him, he knew guards would be tailing them. Still he opened the door and just walked out with her. “I think we can lose our tail.” Thierry raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his expression. They had lost the guards before. It wasn’t that hard.
She pulled the rebel out of him. Thierry desired to be alone with her, and if that meant pissing off a few guardsmen, then so be it.
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Post by desdemona on Jan 25, 2019 15:37:25 GMT -5
inky I'm making a calean lieutenant defector, is that cool ]]
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Post by desdemona on Jan 25, 2019 21:56:09 GMT -5
ok I now have a lawful neutral a chaotic neutral a neutral evil and a chaotic good I have.... expanded... ]]
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