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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Feb 10, 2017 22:14:14 GMT -5
{ welcome home Glow! I'm sorry Rob. I hate when that happens. how much did you have done? }
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ℊℓоω
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ɴᴏ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴏɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss
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Post by ℊℓоω on Feb 10, 2017 22:25:17 GMT -5
Thomasin Wolfsong Thomasin was in denial. She returned to her wing of the castle at the same time as she did every day, with her feet sore from a long trek and pant legs slightly damp from a romp in the fountain with her dogs. She had even spent an hour lounging in the sun, constructing a crown of flowers of purple and blue and pink. They adorned her head, symbols of fruitful life, and she attempted to look happy. Everyone else was. The castle was abuzz. The prince was to be married! The occasion was so rare that Tom heard a pair of maids shedding grateful tears about how lucky they were to be alive at the time of a royal marriage. Thomasin traipsed through the humming hoard, eyes down and mouth twitching from the effort required to fake a smile. It was only when she found the solace of her own quarters that she allowed her body to sag. She collapsed into a chair by her vanity desk and let out a long sigh. It was the end of an era. The sunlight filtered through her enormous windows, illuminating the rose golds and whites of her room. In the hall she could hear laughter.
She was not overly thrilled to see her brother married. She felt as though she had opened the door into her bedroom only to find all of the furniture painted gray. In all fairness, life would not be much different. Tom and Tamlin rarely saw each other as it was; they both had numerous responsibilities and they were well past the age of spending every minute in one another's company. It was simply that she worried her life would become even more hum-drum than ever without her brother. They were similar in many ways, and she was beginning to realize with a tinge of dread that he was probably the person who understood her the best. Everyone else from handmaidens to noblemen to commanders to her father had an agenda when it came to her relationship with them. With Tamlin, however, they could interact knowing that there was no ulterior motive. All they owed the other was honesty and affection, which came naturally due to their closeness in age and personality. The idea of being without that was troubling. His marriage also represented what she had spent her entire life running away from: adulthood. Yes, she was a woman of over a century old, but in fae years that was not many. Besides, in many ways she still felt like such a child. Her brother, on the other hand, was to be married. Married with responsibilities and obligations and distractions and even babies, in a future not so distant. If he was to be settling down, to begin the downward walk to kingship and perpetual maturity, she could not be far behind. That fact was terrifying.
But she would have to face it. The first step toward acceptance was getting dressed. Well, she was already clothed, having spent most of the day walking (pacing) through the woods behind the castle. Those clothes would hardly do for the wedding. It was tempting to arrive in trousers and a men's shirt looking like a vagabond, but something told her neither families would be amused.
Hanging on the door of her armoire was the ceremonial straight jacket. Well alright, it was a dress, and admittedly it was quite beautiful. She had been the one to pick it out months ago, although she vaguely remembered choosing it randomly out of spite and indecisiveness. The hue, a pale indigo, would complement her coloring. It was a simple cut, although she could see from the stitching and careful beading that it was impeccably made. Secretly overcome with a desire to put it on, she quickly slipped out of her walking clothes and putted the dress down. It was halfway up when she realized she was at a loss for how to tie the laces on the back. With a weary glance toward the door, she chomped down on her bottom lip. Where was Evalisse? For a moment she considered calling out, but the princess was not used to being assisted in getting dressed, so she stubbornly decided to do it all herself.
After a good half an hour of painful arm maneuvering and breathless huffing, she was finally fully dressed. With an accomplished sigh she regarded her image in the mirror. The dress looked out of place on her, she thought, or was she simply unused to seeing herself that way? Her pale eyes trailed up from the hem of the gown, along the feminine sparkles and fitted bust. They lingered for a moment on the gown and then found their way to her face. It was a relief to find the features familiar. Her hair had been done that morning, and it tumbled around her shoulders in loose silver curls. It was odd, but a feeling of satisfaction bubbled in her belly like champagne. Why had it never occurred to her that there was joy to be found in looking beautiful? Well, she quickly brushed it away and met her gaze in the mirror. That, yes those icy orbs, were what mattered. They were the only part of her being that betrayed her wild soul. Without the eyes she was only a girl in a pretty dress.
What felt like minutes later, although practically she knew it was a blur of a few hours, she found herself seated in the front row of the Cathedral, waiting for the bride to arrive. She hoped wickedly that something would happen to the mortal girl on the way to the doors and the congregation would wait for hours, only to eventually call off the wedding. Then Tamlin would remain her closest companion and all would be as it should. That, of course, was not what happened, although not even she could have guessed the events of the coming evening. As she sat straight-backed in her chair, all she could think was how she regretted not spending more time with her brother as a child.
On her left was the king himself, her father. Thane Thadrin Wolfson was as striking a creature as any, not so much man as living apparition made of silver-white hair and imposing height. The marriage was partly his doing, and for a split second she considered being angry with him. It would not have been fair, she decided swiftly, for marriage was an expected duty of a Crowned Prince. She attempted to shoot her father a soft smile, but he seemed lost in thought. Was he sad too about losing a piece of his son? It was impossible to tell. Perhaps the far wall as more fascinating than she realized. With a short sigh, she faced forward and directed her attention to the puffing of the organ. It was a strange instrument, she thought. And where was the bride? Just as the thought burst into her brain, there was the sound of the doors being pushed open. Tom swallowed sharply. She couldn't bring herself to look behind her, as nearly the entire Cathedral did with a chorus oohs and ahhs. Instead her gaze landed on her brother. He was too far away to properly read his features. Was he pleased with his fiance? Did she look beautiful? Did he love her already? Had he already willingly resigned himself to adulthood? She could not say. With a pang of remorse she watched on. And so it began.
[ Hopefully that is okay. Didn't go for a very long one (I told my mom I would watch Top Chef with her in ten minutes) but this should do for now c: ]
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ℊℓоω
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ɴᴏ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴏɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss
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Post by ℊℓоω on Feb 10, 2017 22:26:58 GMT -5
(Oh just all of it. Yeah I had it all done xd Oo top chef) [ dang it! sorry, Robs! ] [ yasss ]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Feb 10, 2017 22:36:07 GMT -5
I will respond after raid if I am conscious
had to take another pill because I am not in the mood to deal with the pain
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Feb 10, 2017 22:36:29 GMT -5
{ Tom is my spirit animal what a gal xD
I'm sorry Rob there's nothing worse than losing all your hard work }
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Post by lordclover on Feb 10, 2017 22:41:05 GMT -5
[ hello c: I'm here finally I think i'm going to hold off on replying until I decide where to have Darren during the kidnapping, I'm thinking of just keeping him on the Eventide ]
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Feb 10, 2017 22:45:08 GMT -5
{ good plan also, we should probably discuss who else (if anyone) is going to be taken during the raid does anyone want their character to be thrown into the mess? }
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Post by cιnnaмon roll on Feb 10, 2017 23:08:02 GMT -5
》My starter is just kind of meh. I'm just waiting for the action. xD《
{{ Weddings, weddings. Such happy, joyous occasions, a time for young romance and love and the union of perfect, destiny-bound couples-----bleh. What a load of garbage. Marriage was pointless, a waste of money, and just plain unnecessary. At least in the eyes of the Eventide Captain. Oh, yes. The terror of the sea, the King of the ocean-----also called the Pintsized Monster by those few brave souls that didn't mind losing a limb-----was present as the wedding began. He was no guest of the not-so-happy couple (as much as he would really like some cake, because forget cutting back on the sweets, that cake was gigantic). No, he had much different reason for being there.
Normally, he wasn't one to accept jobs from anonymous clients, as they tended to be more trouble than they were worth, but in this case, he couldn't refuse. The client had offered him a sweet, glorious amount of gold for this and the Eventide could really use a new coat of paint. Those kind of repairs weren't cheap. Besides, he wanted to go out into town and party like it was his last day on this miserable planet, which also required a good bit of cash.
And all he had to do was kidnap a couple of poor, helpless royal brats. Easy peasy.
By the looks of the bride's face, she was not glad to be there at the alter, not eager to marry her future husband. Lou couldn't say he was surprised by this sudden event, a mortal and immortal uniting in holy matrimony. It was bound to happen eventually. Those poor, sweet kids... Nah. He didn't care much about their personal lives. He was just here on a job, a mission to kidnap them and whisk them away. Although, both the prince and princess were quite attractive, if he did say so himself...
Shaking his head, the Captain remained dutifully in his hiding spot, quiet as mouse, undetectable by the crowd. Other crew members were scattered about the area, waiting for his signal to strike. This needed to be clean, quick and precise. Which, unfortunately, were not traits Lou possessed, so there was no doubt in his mind something was going to go horribly wrong. Nothing ever went the way he'd planned it to. Then again, he was a little too impatient to see them out properly. At least he had his crew to back him up. }}
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Bisexual
✦ вσвσ
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goodbye, my friends
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Post by ✦ вσвσ on Feb 10, 2017 23:10:48 GMT -5
Prince Tamlin A wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. And perhaps for mortals, it was. A day that marked the rest of their existence. A new dawn, a fresh slate to be written upon. For immortals, it was just a tedious task that took up time and was hardly a noteworthy event after a while. Weddings were few and far between, just a union that would be possibly forever, and if they weren't, you had an eternity to find someone else to marry again. Time didn't slip a dagger into an Immortals' side, driving deeper in every second, the way it did to a Mortal.
For Tamlin, he was still waiting for the surge of nervousness, for the rolling waves of nausea and anger to arrive in his stomach and alert his consciousness of his inner feelings and stress. However, he only felt numb. This wasn't supposed to be a big deal. A wife wasn't supposed to be a big deal, and instead, the entire Immortal Court whispered about him and about how much it was a big deal. "Oh poor Tamlin, having to marry that poor little mortal thing. She isn't a full witch, a halfling if you will." A few of the snobs would smirk and whisper.
It wasn't like Tamlin minded having to be married, but to a mortal. It was less than ideal, but he'd deal with it. He was achieving a goal of his, the beginning of a family that he desperately wanted, a woman to get to know, to potentially love him in a way he longed for, and to love her the same. Perhaps. Except, the road that would weave the two together wouldn't quite be so smooth and silky.
"Your Grace, are you sure you wish to do this? Right before your nuptials?" From the shining mirror in front of Tamlin, he could see the shears tremble slightly in the hands of the hairdresser. He sighed and nodded, shaking out the long dark golden strands that lay in floating wisps around his shoulders. It was too long now, freshly washed and the ends curling gently around each other.
"Yes, but only if your fingers stop trembling and give me a somewhat even cut." Tamlin said. The hairdresser swallowed, but set to work. The fair strands of hair fell on Tamlin's bare shoulders and a few stubborn pieces clung to his chest, but most of the locks fell neatly around his feet. By the time he was done, Tamlin's hair was now at about his chin, not an unusual length for him. He figured getting it cut incredibly short would only make King Thane Wolfsong, his father, angry with him.
This time, the cut wasn't about rebellion like many of his other haircuts had been. Instead, it was about perhaps looking more presentable and 'Mortal'-like for his new bride. They'd all call it silly, stupid even, but he didn't care. He liked his hair this way, a compromise between the long locks most of his family and most Fae sported, and the short, nearly buzzed look he was prone to doing on a whim. It'd taken restraint, but he'd already sent the hairdresser and shears away. He absently wished Tom was here, he wanted to talk to her. He hardly did so now, except on important matters. It'd been too long since they'd gotten roughed up in the mud together, rode their horses together, fought with play swords, and told each other all their childish secrets.
He glanced around his room, wanting nothing more than to relax in comfortable clothes and dip his fingers in water and smooth it over clay, or swirl a paintbrush over a canvas. But it'd already taken hours of scrubbing by various irritated servants to get all of the remnants of clay and paint from his hands, chest, and other body parts all while they chastised him for not being a neat and tidy prince.
A few light taps on his door alerted Tamlin that the time for reflection, thought, and hair cutting was over. He lifted his hand and curled his fingers inward toward himself. The door opened on command and in came a flurry of attendants all with various garments made of beautiful silky fabrics and more things to put on and take off and try on and to spin around in to make sure he looked perfect so he represented the Immortal Court and Thane well enough. By the time he was done being pampered, having his boot laced up too tightly to his calves, and layers of his necklaces and rings put in place along with his silvery wedding attire and beautifully tailored pants that showed off his lean and well-muscled figure. His hair had the front pieces shoved back and lightly secured, and he realized this was why Tom hated dressing like a beautiful woman. It took too much time, and he doubted it took him even half the time it probably took his new bride.
And then he was declared wedding worthy and ushered out of the castle with a royal guard shielding him from the overcast day and any context of where he was going, before he was placed into a carriage and wound up at St. Priscilla’s Cathedral. When Tamlin arrived, he was ushered through the back, but he'd caught a glimpse of the huge mahogany doors and their gigantic guardian statues. The guests were still piling up through the doors, all the races surging together as one.
Tamlin was suddenly standing at the front with every pair of bright Witch, vivid Vampire, icy Fae, and shimmering Human eyes upon him and he steeled himself as now he felt the pressure and nausea swim to the surface. He searched for a familiar face, someone anyone, and thankfully, found Tom. "Wow, she looks amazing." Not that she didn't always, it was just that he was used to the boyish sister who cared little for dresses. And now, she wore it stiffly, as if she moved too much it'd explode. Tamlin didn't smile, didn't think he was allowed.
He'd never met Thelma Goss, not even once. Didn't even know what she looked like. Would she be beautiful? Or ugly? No, she couldn't be? Could she? Ugh, did it even matter? Well, not now it didn't. Tamlin couldn't think about that. He only hoped she was tall, perhaps. He looked at a spot high above the doors where she'd surely come in. The time seemed to rush quickly on, and suddenly Tamlin realized he wasn't standing alone. Oh no, his father was beside him, and the doors were opening and the Dawn Queen was entering.
The sweet, honeyed organ music began. Beautiful and bright, cheerful and declared it time. And then a figure, Tamlin's bride appeared at the end of the rows upon rows of pews. He could hardly make out any features, but he could hear oohs and ahhs sighing from the audience of guests. He didn't dare look down from where he stared up just above where she was making her way down the aisle.
When Tamlin did look down, Thelma was close. His future was close, or perhaps it was destiny? His first of many wives? Would she be the one who he loved the most? The least? Who he had the longest? The shortest? His stomach twisted but he kept his symmetrical and cool face completely neutral, only his pale gray eyes gleamed with a brightness, a softness. . He was nervous, but excited, for some reason. He fought the urge to run his hands through his hair and disturb all of the hard work his attendants had put in.
Thelma was beautiful. Even from this distance. She had a tall and lean build accented by a beautiful bronze gown that was tailored to fit her willowy form, and it trailed out behind her as she walked. She kept her head down, a white veil covering her face, but he could see she had dark brown hair. Tamlin wished she'd raise her head, perhaps look at him, have some inkling that it would be okay. Even though Tamlin couldn't tell if she was eager for this marriage or not.
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Bisexual
robin
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Enfj--Gryffindor--Pukwudgie--Dog Obsessed--History Lover--Total Work in Progress
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Post by robin on Feb 10, 2017 23:35:51 GMT -5
Sorry if this stinks
Thelma was getting married. It wasn't the kind of pretend wedding the girls had played out when they were just little girls running around the halls of the palace. In those days the idea of marriage meant spending forever with the person you loved. Saying I do was about soul mates and prince charming's and riding off into the sunset. Thelma's wedding day would have none of those. Well, it might include riding off into the sunset, it was a royal wedding after all, but it would never be the way they had dreamed it would. Hannah's chest ached, her heart wanted to fly right out of her chest and somehow, some way, show her sister enough love that she would know everything would be alright. But that wasn't possible. This wasn't just some frightening storm that Hannah could offer to hide Thelma from under her bedsheets and covers. This was duty and life and responsibility and it was terrible.
So instead, Hannah hovered as an ache grew stronger in her gut. She practically paced a hole into a carpet that was doubtlessly priceless and hundreds of years old. If only she could switch places with Thelma. And don't think Hannah didn't consider it, bursting into the fitting room, insisting the wedding be changed to include her and not Thelma. But then there would be that look in her mother's eyes: disappointment. It frightened the golden haired princess more than death. Letting anyone down was a sin to Hannah. And because of that there was no way to win this situation. If she charged into the room and blew up the entire affair, the queen would never forgive her. But if she didn't...she would hurt her sister. Hannah just kept on pacing, hoping somehow that some all knowing being or God or mystical figure would tell her what to do. No such answer arrived. Instead Hannah lost her chance to pacing and before the Crown Princess could raise her voice to object they were arriving at the St. Priscilla’s Cathedral.
To any bystander, Thelma looked radiant swathed in a gorgeous gown of bronze silk and a thousand sparkles from jewels pinned and placed delicately around her. To Hannah, her sister had never looked so cloaked in shadows and sadness. She wanted to scream, to run up to the altar and tell everyone to leave right this very instant, to grab Thelma and steal away back to the palace where things felt safe and right and normal. But then both courts would be furious. Hannah could already feel herself shriveling away under the whip lashes of everyone's gaze. That would become her name, her legacy. Hannah Goss would be synonymous with ruining the first inter-marriage of the courts in forever and a half, with failure to live up to her responsibilities, with a historic mistake. And as much Hannah adored her sister, today was living proof that their lives were not their own. They had families and young couples and grandparents counting on them to put them first. So instead, Hannah sat there, ever the dutiful daughter, heart breaking as her sister's life was turned into one of responsibility and rules. This was not the pretend wedding they had dreamed of as children.
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Feb 10, 2017 23:42:06 GMT -5
give me a sec and I will start a post
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Feb 10, 2017 23:43:37 GMT -5
{ everyone's starters are fantastic! hmm I'm thinking at least two other people are kidnapped as well? so I know Rob wants one of her characters to be taken and Glow. do we want to stick with just those two? or should we wait and see if anyone else is interested in the opportunity? }
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Feb 10, 2017 23:56:59 GMT -5
{ well now, we'll see Rob~ if no one else wants to then it's yours for the taking! }
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Feb 11, 2017 0:08:52 GMT -5
There were few times in life that were to be celebrated as widely as a royal wedding. The last royal wedding had been that of Thane Thadrin Wolfsong, Monarch of the Fae and Night King of the Immortal Court. The King found himself being prepared carefully for the wedding of his eldest son, Tamlin, who was Crown prince. Although Thane would never age, and would likely reign as monarch for the rest of time, unless he was killed, it was important to secure alliances between the immortal court and the mortal court. The easiest way to do that was through marriage. Thane had been in contact with the Dawn Queen, and after a while had finally agreed to a marriage between his son and the Dawn Queen's second daughter, a young woman named Thelma. Though he had his reservations in marrying his son off to a mortal, Thane knew that to rebuff such a potential alliance would not be a smart move. Though she was mortal, the Dawn Queen was not to be trifled with. She didn't hold a candle to Thane's own inherent power, but she had numbers. If it came down to it, a war between the immortals and the mortals would be long and bloody, and there was a high chance that his people would be wiped out. He refused to let that happen; he had to protect his children, and his people. Tamlin was young, but proud; he would make a good king one day, if it was necessary. Thomasin was a wild soul, one who was restrained only when it was necessary.
Thane studied his expression in the mirror before him, watching as his servants fluttered about him, preparing him for the wedding of his son. His dark, stormy eyes were full of emotion; apprehension, excitement, worry. He was thrilled for his son in the way that Tamsin's future was just beginning. Thane's entire world was his children, and he couldn't wait until Tamsin or Thomasin could experience what it was to be a parent. He studied himself; his silver-white hair was carefully groomed and left down, where it draped elegantly over his shoulders. The neat strands had been carefully combed so that it was silky smooth and seemed to glow like the moon, reflecting the candle-light in the room around him. His legs were encased in a pair of fine black pants, made of the finest of materials. Along the out-seam, pale gold stitching had been carefully woven in to craft a design that was easily recognizable in that it was Thane's sigil; a dragon's form curled through the stitching, its maw opening to exhale a plume of flame. Fine leather boots, also black, were slipped on; the material hugged his calves. He wore a tunic of the same pale gold, to compliment the ethereal glow of his hair and his stormy eyes. The tunic was expertly crafted and shaped to Thane's form. On the right side of the chest, his sigil was evident. His chief servant, a man by the name of Josef, stepped up towards his king, bearing a heavy cloak in his arms. Thane gave the man a nod, and Josef moved to drape the material over Thane's shoulders, binding the fabric with a fine broach over his right shoulder. The cloak was black, with silver and gold filigree stitching. Thane donned his jewelry; his signet ring slipped over his right ring finger, a few other rings slid over his other fingers, and his crown came to rest upon his brow. He studied his reflection for a moment longer; he looked every inch the king he was. Still, he felt some doubt. A good father would never force his son into a marriage. A good king would do what was necessary to ensure the safety of his people and their future. Thane felt as though he was straddling both duties. He sighed to himself, strapped his sword to his belt, and headed towards the cathedral.
St. Priscilla's was grand; the architecture was of the highest quality. Thane doubted there was even a hint of decay amongst the building's foundations. He found himself sitting in a pew, next to his daughter, Thomasin. As king, he was offered a position of honor. He studied his son's expression, searching for any sign of doubt or fear. If it was necessary, Thane would call off the wedding. He did not want his son to be trapped in a marriage, to a woman who neither loved him nor hated him. Thane closed his eyes for a moment as grief for his own late wife washed over him. The sound of organs swelled in the air, and he turned to watch as the doors swung open. Like the other guests, he stood and turned in the direction of the bride, watching as she walked down the aisle. She was nervous; that much was obvious. She kept her eyes down on the ground as she walked, as if to avoid any sort of eye contact. She was stunning; it was a good match, but still Thane worried.
He loved his children more than anything; he would give the world to ensure their safety and happiness.
Only time would tell whether the match of the prince and princess would be successful.
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Feb 11, 2017 0:46:59 GMT -5
{darn straight}
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Feb 11, 2017 0:56:23 GMT -5
{ what a beautiful wedding what a beautiful wedding~ }
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Post by cιnnaмon roll on Feb 11, 2017 1:11:21 GMT -5
》《
{{ Blech, weddings. Boring, meaningless, useless things they were. Never good for anything other than gaining power or money. It was a filthy way to get by in life-----and that was coming from a pirate who had no problems looting and pillaging whatever poor places he felt like raiding. The only upside to the wedding was the food. Kind of. It made him hungry, looking at it, though of course he couldn't have any. Not even a little, tiny bite... What a sad thought that was. All that food would go to waste. Maybe he'd have someone snag it for him, if there was time...
With food on the brain, Lou shifted a little restlessly in his place, practically bouncing in excitement. At least, he would be if he could, but that would certainly get him caught. So instead, he waited, eyes glinting in the shadow. Just a little longer. Ten minutes, maybe. He needed to give everyone a chance to settle in, so they'd least expect it. Though he doubted they'd expect a pirate raid/kidnapping on the most important occasion.
Seriously, though, where did they get such a cake? And why didn't his cook ever make one like that? And the prince looked very, very nice in his suit. Not to mention a couple other guests. Too bad they were all royalty-----not worthy enough to receive his attention or time. The pirate would stick to stealing their money, instead of their hearts. He could find a pretty girl, or boy, to occupy him and keep him company some other time.
It was almost time now and Lou moved to inch a bit closer, hands cupped around his mouth. He made no noise just yet, but he was preparing himself. The excitement was rushing through his veins, the thrill of danger, and he grinned wickedly.
Boy, did he love these little missions. Well, maybe not so little in this case, but still. }}
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Feb 11, 2017 1:23:12 GMT -5
Princess Thelma
Thelma had always wondered what it felt like to drown, and now she knew it. Her lungs felt empty and full to bursting at the same time. Oxygen was gone. With all the strength she could muster, she pulled herself together and focused on walking. One foot after the other. It felt as though her legs were made of cement. As though she were the beautiful, bouquet-bearing statue from outside come to life and forced down the aisle. If only that were the case. At least that statue didn’t have to worry about its heart tumbling out of its chest like a frantic bird.
The aisle could have been ten feet or two, to Thelma it spanned miles upon miles, all stretching farther and farther into the horizon where the void waited to swallow her whole. Calm down, Thelma! She scolded herself, Women get married everyday. And everyday they survive. You’re nothing special. Besides, he’ll probably get bored after a few days and forget about your existence, then you’ll be as free as you were before. It was one of the few thoughts that soothed her wild nerves. The other that, though this marriage was important, it wasn’t that important.
Tamlin might have been the Crown Prince, but his title was worth about as much as her own. So long as the Night King lived on, Tamlin would never even glimpse the throne. And so neither would she. It was a calming thought, to know she’d never be forced into the same responsibilities as Hannah.
Poor Hannah. There were days when Thelma crawled into bed, exhausted to her core and utterly drained by her duties. But Hannah, Hannah’s burdened was double her own. Triple even. Her big sister had to learn to how to handle state affairs. How to present herself in Court. How to govern properly. How to make trade deals and treaties. What was a good trade deal, what was a good treaty. Her big sister had to learn to rule. Thelma never even dreamed of such a thing. And never would.
She glanced to the pews now, desperately seeking out her sister’s face among the witnesses. Her heart leaped when she found her, looking radiant as ever. There was a bottomless sadness in Hannah’s expression, Thelma could feel her sister’s heartache from here. What a cruel world this one was. But marriage wasn’t the end. A new husband wouldn’t separate them, Thelma knew. And the day would come when the two switched places. When it would be Thelma heartbroken in crowd as she watched her sister forced into an arranged marriage.
But that wasn’t today. Marriage wasn’t the end. With that thought, the girl straightened, lifting her head as the organ’s bellowing song drifted off into silence and she stepped up to the altar.
At last, Thelma turned and laid eyes upon Crown Prince Tamlin of the Immortal Court and her husband-to-be. His beauty didn’t strike her. Beautiful immortals was a fact of life, a truth that would last till time’s end. The sky was blue. The sea was wet. Eagles fly. Fish swim. Immortals are gorgeous. His hair was, she noted with a hint of amusement, the same length as hers. Fine-boned and well-defined, his features were complacent, as still and unrevealing as a slab of marble. Would he always look this neutral? Maybe that was for the best. Better than a husband with a flaring temper, at least.
Thelma did her best to mirror his look of disinterest. It was difficult. Scratch that, it was impossible. Giving up, the girl opted instead to try and look pleasant. She summoned a smile, albeit a weak one. The celebrant began his litany in the droning tone that said he’d done this a hundred times before and was not thrilled to do it a hundred times more. It was easy to tune him out, Thelma had heard it all before. She tried to focus on Tamlin, tried to shape him into something she could live with for the rest of her life. His currently-neutral expression made it easy to plaster a series emotions onto his face. She imagined him smiling, bright as the sun and brimming with the same earnest joy she’d seen in her mother only hours before. Then anger soured his features into a brewing storm. Finally sadness. Sadness didn’t come easily. It was impossible to picture his handsome features sporting a frown.
At least he was tall. Taller than herself at least.
Thelma snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of those all-too familiar words. “Prince Tamlin Wolfsong, do you take this woman to be your wife; to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto her as long as you both shall live?”
As long as you both shall live.
Thelma swatted away her earlier thoughts that now buzzed like a swarm of agitated flies. He’d be bored with her after a few days and she’d be free again. Free to do as she pleased. To run through the woods and nap in the garden and pretend she wasn’t married to a fae.
----
Judas van Doren
Judas couldn’t say he was thrilled about this. He didn’t like weddings. They were dull, drawn-out affairs that always ended with him wishing he were somewhere else. But this wedding was different. This was the union of the Mortal and Immortal courts for god’s sake! It was set to be an extravagant and downright unbeatable occasion. Generations of brides and grooms to come would all be disappointed with their own weddings, never measuring up to this momentous occasion.
That’s what Judas had hoped for at least. Instead what he found was a wedding like any other. Such a shame. That would change of course, in due time.
The navigator waited in patient repose at the back of the cavernous room, waiting for Captain Lou’s signal. It shouldn’t be long now. He had to admit, this undertaking was a touch ambitious, even for Lou. Stealing some gold? Sure. A jewel or two? Why not. But infiltrating a royal wedding and escaping with the bride and groom? This wasn’t going to end well. Even if they managed to pull this thing off, it was bound to blow up in their faces later. They had already made a name for themselves as wanted criminals, why tempt fate and directly agitate the Courts?
Judas knew why.
Money.
A few weeks ago, the crew had been contacted by a faceless, nameless nobody with a job proposition and a whole treasure hoard with their names on it. All they had to do was kidnap a lovely pair of royal brats on their wedding day and set sail. After that, who knew? And who cared.
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Feb 11, 2017 1:55:52 GMT -5
Bed time for me lol
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Post by вlue вlood on Feb 11, 2017 7:39:06 GMT -5
( aa i got a lot to read now aha i'll def get a post up some time today! when I inevitably give up on writing my essay rip c: )
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Post by cιnnaмon roll on Feb 11, 2017 11:03:56 GMT -5
Dhdueeunwusnwbuend. I can't get my picture to load. DDDDD:
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Feb 11, 2017 12:12:52 GMT -5
{ sorry Blue, we might've gotten a bit carried away ^^; good luck with your essay!
oh dang! I wanted to see it Sho ;-; }
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