Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Feb 3, 2021 0:13:12 GMT -5
Reaching Wisteria Atlas was amazed at how different it was from Rajani. People everywhere enjoying the celebrations, laughing, dancing, and being lively. Everything felt alive. There was just something different thought the kingdom. It was in the air. For a moment he was distracted by it. Memorized even. It'd been a long time since he saw happiness like this. Even longer that he felt it himself. But, he refocused on the mission at hand and stilled his feelings, following Ress into the Castle of Wisteria. He took on the role of Ernestine's ambassador and representative, being colder than he normally would have been to strangers but still polite. Pretending to be stuffy and boring like he imagined them all to be. Then again he'd only personally met the one... The most dreadful part of this mission was to dress the part. Atlas glared down at the dark blue coat and black formal pants he'd have to wear. The white ascot that would sit too close on his throat and itch away at his skin. He'd rather show up just as he was and he knew that Ress was feeling the same. "The sooner we get this done the faster we can change back into our armor..." Atlas reminded both Ress and himself. But, even as he said it he grimaced and hesitated towards even touching the fabrics he was to wear. He even dared to wonder if he needed the help of the Queen anymore. But, he did. So, this would have to be worth it. Not looking up at Ress as she spoke, Atlas nodded in agreement and crossed his arms over his chest. He was quiet for a moment before finally speaking. "I'll get the boy. You deal with the guard dog," He ordered. Atlas was technically in no way allowed to order Ress around. She was the princess and higher in rank. But, Atlas was older and it was just Ress so he was going to do it anyway. "Don't even think of arguing with me either. It would be harder if I tried to lure him away compared to a frantic young woman," the hunter shrugged and finally picked up the clothes, folding them over his arm and starting to move towards the door and go back into his own quarters. Looking over his shoulder Atlas grinned mischievously. "Besides, he might like pretty girls," he teased before completely walking out of the room. ~~~~~~ Knocking on Ress's door, Atlas was now fully dressed and looking like a proper gentleman. He even bothered to clean up the stubble growing on his face and do something with his hair. Although he continuously fidgeted in the clothing he was in, especially pulling at the ascot on his neck. Once, Atlas got the ok to walk into the room, he smiled at the girl. A gentle and proud smile that reached his eyes. "Well don't you dress up pretty, lass?" he cooed like an adoring parent. He took a few steps toward her and reached out a hand to her. "Indulge me, give me a spin," Atlas requested a chuckle hidden in the words. |
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Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Feb 3, 2021 4:07:11 GMT -5
Athena kept smiling and just shook her head at his explanation of why he trusted any information to her. Because she was his friend. Because he trusted her. They had known each other for years but had never asked a single detailed question about the other person.
Glancing up at him, Athena just gave him a sly smile and a raised eyebrow. Poor thing is too trusting... he's lucky he's right.
His explanation of his magic and it not working the way that he originally thought was... interesting to say the least. Bracelets that he was never allowed to take off and diluted Alex's abilities under the lie that the cause was disuse. And the king gave these to him on his birthday because what? He was ashamed to have a son who had magic?
What a shitty gift and an even shittier father.
But, that was a topic for another day. One she was sure Alex was already well versed in. At the moment, the important thing was to study these crystals he was talking about. She took the bracelet from Alex and turned it over and over again in her hands.
It was... okay in design? Nothing she would personally wear but for someone else... well at least it was good quality.
Athena glanced up at Alex for a moment before looking back down at the bracelet. "Well, that sounds like an obvious solution," she said as she bunched the bracelet into the palm of her hand and slammed the jewelry onto the table as hard as she could. It connected with the wood with a loud CLACK and when she pulled her hand away, it had broken into two pieces. "Take it apart and see out it works."
Pulling the broken pieces away from each other and holding some of them up into the light, Athen set the book she was reading to the side and focused entirely on this new device. "Besides, if my hypothesis is correct, your abilities will be coming back slightly stronger even if you keep one on."
Taking some of the pieces in her palm again and repeating the action of slamming her hand down, the mercenary attempted to break the stone from its spot. "And if I'm wrong..." she trailed off as she tried to pry the crystal free with her nail. "Well, at least one of your shackles are gone."
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 3, 2021 17:35:12 GMT -5
Alex watched the mercenary examine the bracelet, turning it over in her hands. The gemstones caught the light, blazing with that cool kind of fire gemstones had.
He then watched as she smashed it against the table, breaking the piece of jewellery in two. He’d witnessed Athena’s strength before so while he was impressed he wasn’t surprised. Luckily he’d kind of predicted she would do that, which was why he’d felt safe giving her the bracelet. He had two; he only needed one to keep his father fooled that he still had both. The king didn’t check Alex’s bracelets, anyway, though the prince had no doubt he’d notice if Alex stopped wearing them. Luckily he could keep the one he had to keep the king fooled. Besides, Dante had talked of getting fakes. That would mean he could get rid of both.
“Ah, the mercenary goes for brute force,” Alex teased with a raised eyebrow “what a shocking development.”
He was just joking around, of course. He’d never liked the bracelets anyway, and Athena had been right about it being the obvious solution. Taking the bracelet apart, studying it and looking at the books. It was the only way of getting anywhere with this. And he certainly couldn’t just let things go on as they had now that he knew what the bracelets really were.
Especially with Minke in the dungeons.
As she held up the stones to look at them in the light, Alex approached, moving beside her so he could look at the stones too.
“That’s the idea, hopefully,” he responded to her theory “though I won’t lie, the thought scares me a little. Even before I got these I could never use my powers freely. I don’t know what I’m capable of.”
But he’d gotten a hint of what he was capable of with the harm he’d almost caused his stepmother when he was young. Besides, he’d always been taught magic was bad and dangerous. People who had it were bad and dangerous, or at best were better suited to servitude (unless they were Brightlux, who always had gotten off more lightly). Power had to be restrained and kept in line, controlled.
Alex had always thought that was stupid. Why control and repress power when you could wield it? Imagine what a kingdom could be capable of if it embraced Factioneers?
But his father (and many other rulers, it seemed) didn’t want to take that risk. He could see why. Fear of the unknown, the knowledge that other people had abilities one could never hope to possess. It was almost jealousy, in a way.
His father, jealous of him? That was a novel thought, and a slightly comforting one.
He watched Athena try to pry one of the stones loose with her nail, instead offering her some dumb brooch he was wearing, hoping that perhaps she could use the pin of it to help get the thing out.
While she worked on it, he consulted his books until he eventually stopped on a page, placing the book down on the table as he let out a short gasp of surprise and disbelief. He hadn’t actually expected to find anything useful in this place, but apparently he’d been wrong.
“Athena...” he said slowly, as if processing the words himself “this book says that gemstones can absorb magic. You don’t think...?”
He looked at the stones again, eyes narrowing as he examined them. They certainly didn’t seem usual. Was it possible they were infused with some kind of magic? Just not the same kind as Alex possessed? Some kind of energies, like waves, cancelling one another out? As if they were sounds combining and yet only becoming white noise? Colours combining to create muddy brown?
If that was the case, the question remained; what kind of magic? And how could he figure out how to stop the bracelets from working? After all, he could simply take the bracelets off but it wasn’t so easy for Minke. They needed to block them, stop them working.
For now, though, this was progress.
“I’ve never seen stones like these before,” he pointed out “I suppose it makes sense. We just have to figure out how they work, how to counteract the ones that girl in the dungeon wears.”
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 4, 2021 14:01:06 GMT -5
Ress had rolled her eyes at Atlas' antics, fighting off a grin as she begrudgingly grumbled about what he stated, though it made sense. If she played the part of a damsel, the knight would be more willing to follow her. It was a simple plan, it made sense. Atlas would target the prince, Ress would pretend to fret over the prince, frantically telling the head guard that the prince was in danger, and it was easy from there.
Finally humming in agreement, she went to get ready.
When Ress heard the knock at her door, she messed with her gloves covering her hands in dark silk, anxiety climbing up her skin at the thought of not being in her armor. Still, swathed in dark cloth, The feathers nestled against her chin as she ducked her head, her dark eyes narrowing at the annoying fabric. However, it was the cloth Ernestine had wanted her to wear.
It was befitting of a royal, for sure. Hugging her frame and bathing her in dark cloth. Maneuvering in it was a hassle. It wasn't the first time she was in a dress, but it was for sure one of the first times she was in one so annoying.
Opening the door, she glared at Atlas when he complimented her and asked her to twirl. "I hate this thing," she whined, tipping her head back slightly, still unused to the weight of the bun on the back of her head. "Let's just get this over with, please."
Still, deciding to delight Atlas just once, she did a clumsy little twirl in the dress, grinning at him and laughing softly as she did so. If anyone asked her, it was simply for practice, and not anything else.
The prince listened, focusing on his breathing, keeping his abilities at bay, and brushing his own tears away as he listened to Callan. He mulled over the words, looking at the ground for a moment and pondering his thoughts. What he should do, what was best.
Maybe Callan was right. Maybe Tia had forgiven him, maybe...
But maybe she hadn't, maybe she was still mad about everything that had happened. Surely she wouldn't have avoided him still if she wasn't mad at him.
He couldn't blame her if she was mad. But he had to at least talk to her.
"I should talk to her, shouldn't I?" He questioned softly, his eyes landing on Callan but then closing, squeezing shut. "But not tonight, this is her celebration. And as much as you may be forgiving, you haven't been around me for years. You haven't had the choice about whether to avoid me or not. She has."
With that, the Prince gave an exhausted sigh, "They'll be noticing our absence soon, Callan, but I-" he stuttered slightly, sounding a little choked up, "I appreciate what you've done for me a lot, thanks."
Back in the main room, with soft music playing, the ambassadors of Rajani arrived. Cloaked in their gowns and regalities. Ress stood beside Atlas, no crown on her head due to not being a formal royal, not yet.
Their actions tonight could change that, forever.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 4, 2021 17:47:09 GMT -5
Callan had to admit he was a little relieved when Carlo seemed to agree that he should talk to Tia. Maybe, just maybe, the whole situation could finally be put aside. Half a decade was quite long enough for Carlisle, Adrestia and Callan to have been walking on eggshells like this.
It was strange, really. Callan considered himself as much Adrestia and Carlo’s brother as they were brother and sister. Yet most normal siblings probably would’ve fought about it on the spot years ago and forgotten the whole thing long ago.
It was Callan’s fault, really. He had closed all channels of communication about the incident when Tia came to see him before he left.
”I have my place, and you have yours. We were childish to think that it could be any different, and I put you in danger when we did that. So I’m acting like a Verndari, like I’m supposed to. Maybe it’s time you learned your own place, too.”
He hadn’t really believed those words when he’d said them. He knew how harsh they sounded. But he’d done it for Tia’s own protection, not to try and force her into a life if she didn’t want it.
None of it mattered now, anyway. Tia and Callan had made up a long time ago, that incident long forgotten. A distant blip in their memories.
“Yes, talk to her.” Callan agreed “but you’re right, not tonight. When you get a chance to.”
He understood what Carlo had said about her having the opportunity to talk to him about it and not taking it, but he didn’t have comforting words for that. Maybe she’s feared Carlo was still upset at her for trying to leave, the guard didn’t know. What he did know was that Tia could be surprisingly difficult to read sometimes.
Anyway, the young prince was right about the others missing their presence if they were missing for too long, and Callan’s gaze drifted back towards the party.
“Right. We should head back,” he agreed, but he paused to lay a hand on the prince’s shoulder “You’re welcome, though, Carlo. I’m just sorry that you had to carry that guilt for so long.”
With that, he headed back to the party. As soon as he stepped inside he dismissed the guards he’d asked to keep an eye on Tia in his stead, watching as they left to get on with their night. They’d probably gamble while they held watch over the castle walls they night; that’s what the guards could usually be seen doing.
The head guard took his place, once back inside the room. He stood against one of the walls so he could have a view of the whole party - and Tia - without being too close to the queen. Often it was better he not be right at her side unless she requested it; it could make people uncomfortable. Anyway, he could keep watch just fine from where he was
Nobody could hurt the queen without him knowing about it.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 11, 2021 20:11:45 GMT -5
   ”Briseis Vincenza Castalia Sonnet Odile Marcella Lenore!”
A young girl had been watching the blacksmith who served the royal family delivering some new weapons for Alexandria’s guards, peeking out through the window into the courtyard, wide eyes shining with wonder. The girl’s purple eyes flashed with the silver of steel as the guards tested the swords in their hands.
Their figures were reflected on the wet cobbles, which shimmered with their fluid movements. They looked so comfortable with the swords, as if they were an extension of their bodies. The princess felt her breath catch. How she wished she could be like them.
Instead, she frowned and looked in annoyance at the woman who had just middle-named her.
“Mother, please, no need to use my full name. It takes forever to say it.”
The Queen of Alexandria seemed unimpressed with her daughter’s habit of talking back, but followed the girl’s gaze back out to the guards.
“You’re not paying attention, my dear. The guards do not concern you.”
The older woman had been trying to teach her daughter some lessons about the geography and history of Alexandria and its great houses. Briseis was getting to the age at which it was expected for her parents to begin preparing her to be queen. There was no time to waste.
“I want to be like them someday,” the princess murmured wistfully, entranced by the swirling, flashing weapons as they caught the cool winter sunlight.
The queen frowned then, displeasure etching itself between her furrowed brows.
“Briseis, you cannot be like them. Queens do not fight, they order other people to do the fighting for them. Preferably they avoid any kind of fighting altogether; a good queen understands diplomacy.”
The dark-haired girl was already having to fight not to roll her eyes - which would only make her mother tell her off - as she listened. She hated these lectures about everything she was going to have to do and be when she was queen. Queens always seemed to have to be perfect. Nobody ever seemed question a king no matter how bad he was.
Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Sometimes they murdered them.
“And to be a good diplomat,” the queen continued, undeterred but slightly irritated by her daughter’s apparent disinterest “one must know their allies and enemies. So tell me about House Castemont. Their family seat, their crest, their motto.”
But even as the crown princess recited all she had been taught about House Castemont, her gaze still flickered to the guards outside. She was drawn to them, like Icarus wishing to inch closer to the sun.
That was when she noticed a figure looking at her from that same courtyard. A boy several years older than her by the looks of it, he looked around eighteen. She knew this boy. Briseis had heard the servant girls who were much older than her, old enough to be interested in that sort of thing, talking about how handsome he was. He was all square jaw, white teeth, dimpled smile. Curly hair and warm dark brown eyes.
He was the blacksmith’s apprentice, Jarik Lefevre. Apparently his parents had sent him away to Alexandria when there was trouble in his home village and they’d never sent back for him to return. Probably dead, unfortunately. The blacksmith had raised him as his ward and apprentice ever since.
Jarik caught the princess’ eye, giving a small nod. Then it seemed the old blacksmith had called him to tell him they were leaving because he turned as if to hear something and then disappeared from sight.
————
It was around a month later when the palace gates opened once again to admit the blacksmith. This time Briseis was ready, standing in a doorway to look out into the courtyard with excitement.
Instantly, the apprentice caught Briseis’ eyes again and to the girl’s surprise, he approached. Nobody ever just approached Brizzy, there were rules about just walking up to her. He didn’t even bow. He just took her hand, and let the protesting princess through the winding passages of the palace until they both came out into a colonnaded walkway. It seemed empty, free from prying eyes, but wasn’t so remote or hidden away that the princess felt unsafe.
She wrenched her arm from the older boy’s grasp and had just opened her mouth to complain about the way he’d treated her when he made an apologetic expression, holding a placating hand up.
“My apologies, Your Highness. I just- I saw you watching when we brought the swords before, and...”
He unwrapped a linen covering he’d been holding in his free hand to reveal a scabbard, well-made and with swirling golden designs. Sitting inside it, though, was the thing that caught Briseis’ attention.
She could see the hilt of a sword, delicately made with swirling patterns of metal. The crossguard was shaped like the heads of ravens. The pommel too had twin ravens on it and was inlaid with obsidian. It was truly beautiful.
The young man drew the sword, Brizzy smiling with delight at the pure, silvery ring of metal, and handed the blade to the girl, who took it slowly, hesitantly as if she couldn’t believe it was hers. The grin on her face grew; the grip felt like it was made for her, the balance even in her hand. It was good steel, too. Excellent steel.
”The Queen would kill me if she knew,” Jarik admitted nervously ”but I thought a future queen should have a blade of her own. Even if you don’t ever fight, you should still learn how. You have to defend yourself, the kingdom...”
The boy trailed off then, but Briseis knew what he meant. Technically everyone would say she was too young for a sword, but if she were a boy she would’ve started training with one by now. And Jarik was right, who knew when she’d need it? She might have to ride into battle one day. She might have to defend herself.
“This is mine?” the girl breathed, awe-struck
Jarik nodded, before nodding with a smile towards the weapon.
“All yours, Your Highness. But you know, all the best swords have names.”
The princess hummed in agreement, looking at the blade thoughtfully for a long moment. It really ought to have a name; all the swords in the books she’d read had names.
Her mind whirred for a moment, desperate to come up with something that was at least slightly fitting for the beautiful blade with which she’d been presented. It deserved a good name.
“Scourge,” she said, slowly, as if testing the word out on her tongue. It felt right.
It seemed to amuse Jarik, who obviously couldn’t imagine for the life of him who Briseis could possibly want to punish or take any kind of vengeance on, but Brizzy was confident in her answer. Very confident.
She had a feeling deep in her gut that one day she would have enemies. One day she would need to fight for what was hers and take revenge for things that had been taken from her.
Scourge was going to help her do it. Not that she’d ever tell anyone she’d named her sword, at least not until she was good enough with it not to look pathetic.
Perhaps Scourge would keep its name. Perhaps its name would change; after all, a sword’s true name came from its deeds. Scourge hadn’t earned its true name yet.
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Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Feb 14, 2021 4:59:08 GMT -5
"I'm not even sure if you guys are really them!" Declan snapped glaring down at his old winged friend. His grip on his reigns tightened and the mare he was riding pulled her head back in response with a snort. But, the young lord didn't release his grip. It was the only thing anchoring him right there in that moment. "So I will do as I please, Kore."
He turned his gaze to Puck next and narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing further as he scowled. "After all, you two could be demons masquerading as them and driving me mad..." he trailed off. It had been a thought that had come to him long ago. That he was being punished for being alive. For leaving his friends to die.
He didn't deserve this torture. But, then again he did.
"For three years you have always been in the corner of my vision, haunting me, following me everywhere I go!" Declan continued looking between his two friends. Former friends. Dead friends. "Yes, I want to move on but I can't do that until I face the fact that you're gone. Until you actually are gone," he clarified strictly.
Finally, he let himself breathe. A moment of silence passing through the air as he eased his hold on the horse's reigns. He closed his eyes tightly and let his head fall back, facing the sky. He was tired. He looked and felt it.
Tired of his father being worried about his health, and his own servants passing him with pity in their eyes. He wanted relief from the ghosts and the fact that no one else saw them but him. He wanted to live a normal life and learn to become the next Viscount.
"I want to grieve normally and not as a raving lunatic..." He muttered quietly.
With a sharp inhale, Declan turned his horse and spurred her into a walk. Back towards the manor to get some semblance of where they might be.
"Forgive me for being so harsh," but there was no remorse in his voice. "We'll head to a witch then..."
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Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Feb 14, 2021 5:27:59 GMT -5
Drake's eyes didn't waver from Dante. He stared at him as if he were a thing to study. Waiting for any slip that he might be lying in what he knows. His gaze was uncomfortable, almost invading, and judgemental. But, he got no sense that this advisor was lying at this time.
Caspian straightened up and covered his mouth with his hand in an inquisitive way. "You shall have full access to our records," he decided. "If she's as dangerous as you say she is then it's better to act quickly to find and recapture her," he sounded serious. Like a prince should if he were taking action. Caspian was thinking about the safety and integrity of not only his kingdom ut his friend's kingdom.
The Talutah king smiled gently and nodded respectfully to the prince. "I thank you for your help," he said quietly and glanced between the two men. "I'd like to avoid any rumors if possible. Best to not stir any panic and cause the girl to flee," he explained gravely. If she ran and got away from him again, there's no telling when she'd be found again. This might be his only chance to get her back.
"Of course," Caspian agreed. He glanced toward the window by the desk and noted the time. "Dante, will you take him? As much as I'd like to help, I believe I've left my own duties for long enough."
Drake simply smiled and rested a comforting hand on Caspain's shoulder. "I understand."
"He'll take good care of you. I'll be sure to get word to my father that you're here as well," Caspain offered, moving towards the door to his chambers and opening them for the other two. He beckoned them to follow him outside.
"Shall we go then?" The king asked Dante, his voice a little lower and one eyebrow raised.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 14, 2021 6:08:02 GMT -5
Puck chuckled lightly when Declan suggested that the two of them could be demons sent to torture him.
"Please," he scoffed "I'd forgive you for thinking I might be a demon, but have you seen Kore? The girl is made of goddamn sunshine and fairy dust. I don't think any demon could impersonate her."
He knew that wasn't Declan's point. Of course a demon sent to torture Declan about the death of his friends would act exactly like said friend. But still, he felt it was worth saying.
At that point the boy let his expression turn to something a little more serious. They really had to convince Declan to help, this wasn't the time for him to do his usual joking around. There was actually stuff at stake her; his and Kore's afterlife, Declan's chance to finally move on and live his life.
"I mean it though, Declan. If we weren't actually us we wouldn't be asking for your help. No demon or evil spirit would want to help you move on." he explained "Hell, I want to move on too. I know it must be awful being the one left behind but being dead isn't exactly a picnic either."
Not being able to move on. Having no independence, no presence. Being stuck with memories of his death and everything he'd done wrong. How he could have done it differently so they could all be alive still.
He nodded toward Korinna with a teasing smile.
"Being stuck with Miss Goody-Two Shoes over here, for one thing," he joked
It was all affectionate. They'd all been friends when Patrick and Kore were alive, and he loved them all. He frequently teased them both, or he had when he'd been alive.
It did hit him, though, as he followed his living friend on his horse. What he and Kore were asking was to really, truly move on from the living world. What would that mean for them? What waited afterwards? The living world was safe and familiar, and it was scary to think of leaving it. But he couldn't stay. Over the last three years the feeling had grown stronger and stronger that this place wasn't for him anymore. He didn't belong here.
He had to leave.
That was why he breathed a sigh of relief when the young lord agreed that they should all go visit a witch.
"Great!" he said before casting his gaze over to Kore "Do you happen to know of any witches who might be able to help?"
Puck certainly didn't. His whole family had magic but none of them could help with this kind of stuff. They needed someone who could really, truly help them. Who could use magic in ways many others couldn't.
What could possibly go wrong? |
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Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Feb 14, 2021 6:31:41 GMT -5
Of course, she was relishing the fact that Elena was angry. That's all they ever did to each other. Fight. And it only made Elena angrier and harder to conceal her feelings.
She opened her fan and started to air herself gently as if she were too hot. She was really just trying to cover her face. The scowl that invaded her features only deepened as Lilith kept talking and the man on their arms responded in that voice of his.
Annoying and grating on her eardrums. Loud and pompous, like he was the most important thing there. This is why Elena hated royals. At least one of many reasons.
Distracted, Elena looked around the festival as if in awe. Of course, she was actually searching for her men and seeing exactly where they were placed. Naturally, they would have been following her as she moved so they weren't far off. And if she knew anything about her second, he was always the closest to her.
A clatter caught Elena's attention and she spotted a guard searching for the person that tried to steal his sword and a waiter with a tray of treats and food on the ground. Such a shame they had to go to waste. But, it's for a good cause.
Catching Lilith's eyes, Elena sighed quietly and played along. Tightening her grip on the man's arm in mock fear she agreed to this little truce that the other leader wanted. Despite having had the upperhand earlier.
As soon, as the pig was out of ear shit, Elena turned on Lilith with a glare. "You deserve it!" Elena hissed sharply. Lilith didn't get to just waltz into her plan and change the outcome on her own terms. She had been here nice and early to lure the noble in a false sense of security.
Sadly, now wasn't the time to lecture her on why she was a b*tch.
"I'll give us a few more seconds. Call your people, we can't carry all of this ourselves in skirts," Elena instructed. Snapping her fan closed, she brushed it gently across her nose and in a quick motion and turned her head slightly to the side. Though her eyes never left the commotion the noble left to go deal with.
Reed passed by Elena rather closely from behind and handed her a small knife discreetly. He didn't take his eyes off of his target as he moved. But, for a split second, he could hear Elena's words as he passed.
"Be careful, Everett."
As the guards and the noble yelled about a thief, Reed started waking a little more sloppily towards him. He laughed uproariously and practically threw all of his weight onto the lord in question. Laughing and mumbling as if he were drunk.
"You look just like my cousin's wife... Gods she was ugly..." were the slurred words that came out of his mouth. Mumbled loudly between giggles and laughs.
Lord Octavious was less than thrilled to have a drunk man on him. Even more so at the insult.
At the same time, a blond flash of hair ran past him and swiped something from one of the guards and the Lord. A small bag that had been on the man's belt. Leaping on top of a nearby cart, the boy from earlier with the eyepatch, grinned triumphantly at the group and showed the bags in his hand in a taunting manner.
"Give those back!" One of the soldiers ordered.
"Come and get me!" Crius retorted and immediately started running in the opposite direction of his boss and the other gang leader.
"Get off of me!" Octavious screeched as he pushed Reed off of him and into the street. He landed with a heavy thud and was left on the ground by the Lord and the guards chasing the eyepatch boy.
Elena sighed proudly at the two boys and shook her head as she smiled. "I'd adopted that child if he didn't work for me," she mused to herself before turning and getting back to the situation at hand.
With a simple hand gesture, her people quickly started moving through the crowd. Moving closer to the two women in a distant but protective circle around them. Ready to act if something went wrong. Elena called two of them that caught her eye to come closer and pick up the chest of coins.
"Grab that side, let's go!" she ordered sharply and picked up her skirts, starting to move faster through the crowd and away from the open.
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Post by Hawkeyes258 on Feb 16, 2021 0:10:37 GMT -5
Flashback Part One How does one kill a royal? This was a question that plagued Zander for weeks. How does one kill someone who is guarded day and night by trained and diligent guards? A good assassins would be costly, and the threat of said assassin botching the job or getting captured, and spilling their guts about their employer wasn't worth the effort.
Outright attacking wasn't the answer either. For one thing the king was a fighter and could easily overtake him. Even if Zander managed to kill him what would be his alibi? The dead king's blood would literally be on his hands and trying to dispose of the murder weapon would be a huge hassle in itself.
Poison is an easy option but what kind of poison? Said poison would have to be something that worked quickly but didn't outright kill said host. Zander wanted his targets to suffer, but be incapacitated. This led him to reading many herbal books and asking healers careful questions. Even if he found said poison what about gathering said ingredients and mixing them together correctly? Not like he could ask any of the royal healers what would be his excuse anyway?
Wasn't until he was out on a hunt with other nobles, that he learned about curses. A duke was telling a story about how his grandmother used to know a bunch of spells and would use different curses on people she disliked. Those affected would suddenly go into comas, lose all their hair, go insane and much more. Zander pondered the man's words and wondered if simply cursing the royals would be possible. He would have to do a lot more research. Little did he know, his patience would be rewarded. |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 24, 2021 17:00:47 GMT -5
The walls of golden and pale cream surrounded Dante practically on all sides. Swathes of golden light shining from chandeliers and candlelight. He had paused to take in the sight when he entered the front doors to the Castle of Oralee, his eyes widening marginally at the large expanse of beauty right before them.
So much different than the other castles he had been to. Levina was more of a stony fortress, with its own beauty, but it wasn’t quite this elegant. Xanino had been more natural, looming trees surrounding the castle, nature on every side, flowers aplenty.
But Oralee? It had elegance, it had more of an industrialized feel to it. But he was caught from his reverie as an impatient woman who had been behind him decided to push past him, almost causing him to lose balance. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though she was already walking past towards whatever destination she had.
Taking that as a cue, the scrawny boy continued into the great hall. Stepping in an arc to look around him more, his satchel bag clutched in his hands. He didn’t have a lot with him, only what Queen Ophelia and Prince Percival had insisted he bring with him during his travels to the Kingdom of Oralee.
After taking in the sights for a moment, the blonde turned off into a hall, eager to explore the castle. Perhaps even find a library. He had some time before he was to meet with one of the Scholars that worked for the King, and he decided he could use that time to explore a bit. See a bit of the kingdom for himself.
Prince Alexiares of Oralee did not have nearly as much appreciation for the kingdom in which he had been raised; indeed, for him the short time he’d spent in Levina as a child had been more formative for him.
As a child, the palace in Oralee had held no small amount of wonder. Places to climb and explore and just be an innocent child. A time when he didn’t feel like he was doing everything wrong. A time when he was loved as a symbol of peace.
But now he was twenty years old and a million miles away from that childhood that had ended too fast. He was far less liked now, and generally he’d decided the feeling was mutual.
The young man had been exploring outside of the palace, which he wasn’t strictly supposed to do without anyone knowing, but really he didn’t care about anyone else in this palace and they didn’t really care about him so things worked out well in the end.
For the purposes of not being so easily identifiable outside, he wasn’t dressed in his usual princely clothes. He’d tied back his silvery-blond hair into a kind of bun to make it a little less noticeable (it really stuck out like a sore thumb in most places) and his clothing was relatively simple. Just a loose cotton shirt with a lace-up design at the top and a pair of dark trousers to match, along with a simple coat for warmth. Nothing too out-there, but he thought he looked okay.
Either way, he didn’t look his normal self. But he still had to get to his chambers and change before anyone noticed, because if he was seen dressed like this they’d know he’d been up to something.
He’d just been heading around the corner when he almost walked into a boy about his own age, maybe a tad younger. Alex’s heart had stopped for a moment of panic until he realised he’d never seen this person around the palace before, and it certainly wasn’t anyone he thought would be likely to tell his father what he’d been doing.
“Too many people in this damn palace for its own good,” the prince said with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile “Sorry.”
He might be the prince, but he also wasn’t an absolutely terrible person. He had just walked into someone and that was definitely kind of his fault. Apologising was the not-an-asshole thing to do.
Dante just about jumped out of his skin when someone just turned the corner, and he did visibly jump. Not that he’d admit to it. His knuckles clinging to the strap of his satchel turned white, and he almost squealed in panic.
He totally didn’t, but if a small sound of surprise escaped him, well, that wasn’t his fault either.
“I am so sorry,” Rushing to explain, his words almost ran into the stranger’s, but he was soft, insistent, and he cut off his words quickly, listening to the man complain. At first, he was worried by the first phrase. But then the person apologized, and he took a deep breath.
“You seem to be in a hurry,” Dante observed, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the stranger before him, taking in the outfit to assure himself that this wasn’t anyone who he had to stress over upsetting. Though he quickly hated himself for it, the guy had pale hair in a bun, and pretty almost honey colored eyed. The other man was taller than Dante, and didn’t look much older than him.
Quickly looking away, Dante tapped his fingers against the satchel strap. He was dressed in clothes that Ophelia had given him. A cream button up shirt with ruffled sleeves, dark colored pants, and simply brown shoes. The outfit was simple, but simple was fine. Perched on his head and squishing down some of his own pale hair were his glasses, not that he really needed them that much.
They were helpful when reading however, and he really wanted to find that library and not stare at pretty strangers. He wasn’t complaining, though. Though he really didn’t appreciate the pretty guy rushing through the castle. Deciding no to push it, he went back to looking around him, eager to find the library.
It was Alex’s turn now to fully take in the stranger he’d almost run into. A blond man a little younger than him maybe, with glasses perched on his head and a satchel on his shoulder. Wearing a cream shirt with ruffled sleeves. He seemed kind of shy, far too shy to manage in a place like this. One needed to be able to hold your own, have confidence. He’d learn that, he knew, but it made it all the more obvious to Alex that he was new here. He was sure he would’ve remembered him if he’d seen him, anyway. For now he found the shyness kind of endearing.
“Isn’t everyone?” Alex questioned simply when the guy commented on the fact that he looked like he was in a hurry.
He looked the man up and down for a moment before extending a hand.
“I’m Alex,” he explained “I haven’t seen you around here before. You new?”
Yeah, it maybe wasn’t great of him to not say he was the prince, or to introduce himself with his full name to at least give the guy a clue. But he kind of enjoyed not being the prince for a little bit. Being Alex was way more fun than being Alexiares.
He did notice, though, that the smaller guy seemed to be looking around, almost a little agitated. Alex tilted his head.
“Are you looking for somewhere in particular?” the prince questioned “You could say I know this place pretty well.”
Yeah, in this getup he probably seemed more like perhaps a member of the palace staff, if anything. Though even most of the palace staff wore better clothes, because they were publicly visible. If he was one of the palace staff, he’d probably seem like one of the ones who didn’t work in an area where they were likely to be seen by visitors or the royal family. Which gave him very little excuse to just be wandering the halls. But still, at least like he’d seemed like he was in a hurry to get someplace. As if he was working.
Dante didn’t offer up a response to Alex’s question. He assumed that was right. People were always in a rush. People always wanted to have things that they couldn’t, too. He knew that, he’d seen it.
When the guy extended a hand, Dante stared at it for a moment, blinking at it, before looking back up at him for a moment, shaking his hand in return when the man introduced himself as Alex. “Dante,” he curtly said, and his demeanor shifted slightly. This man seemed more like he worked in the castle, and Dante knew how to handle business, at least to some extent.
“I come from Xanino,” the words were practiced, it seemed. They were stressed over this meeting he was to have with one of the staff, and he had rehearsed his introduction enough to be able to get through at least one introduction. “I’m meeting with one of the Scholars today.” He admitted, it was simply because Queen Ophelia wanted to check up on Oralee and some other simple tasks, but Dante was still proud of it.
When Alex asked him about where he was heading, his gaze turned confused, frowning then. Alex had seemed nice, but even admitted, albeit in a bit of a rhetorical way that he was in a hurry. “You don’t have to help me,” the words came out more clipped than he was intending, but he was straight to the point, “I thought you were in a bit of a hurry? I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties.”
That much, at least, was truthful. Alex seemed confusing, and Dante didn’t particularly like things that he couldn’t figure out. Alex, for sure, seemed like one of those things, and Dante hadn’t been speaking to him very long.
Then again, Dante was known for over analyzing things. He decided to let that go, staring at Alex for a moment, as if doing so would allow him to figure out the enigma that was Alex. He eventually spoke up though, slowly, words more unsure, “Well, I was going to check out the library before my meeting.” He admitted, a bit more sheepishly.
Alex folded his arms when Dante said in a rather clipped tone that he didn’t need Alex’s help and didn’t want to keep him from his work.
“What, they don’t teach you to accept help with a thank you in Xanino?” Alex answered
This boy seemed strange. He’d never met someone who was so shy but also seemed somehow so prickly. Still, Alex was going to give him at least a little benefit of the doubt; he was sure he hadn’t meant for his tone to come off a little rude. Besides, it was kind of refreshing. No matter how much Alex knew most people hated him, generally nobody would speak to him as frankly as that.
Then Dante got sheepish again, mentioned needing to go to the library, to which Alex nodded.
“I’ll show you where it is,” Alex answered “and don’t worry about the whole work thing. Nobody’s going to give us any trouble.”
Technically if one of the members of the palace staff he was hoping to avoid saw him dressed like this then that might not be the case, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.
So with that, he began leading the way down towards the library, leading through the labyrinth of hallways.
“So what do you think of Oralee, then?” Alex questioned as they walked “I rarely hear an outsider’s opinion.”
Strictly speaking that was a lie. Alex heard lots of people’s opinions on Oralee. But most of those were people gushing to his father because they wanted something or other. Nobody was going to insult a kingdom to its king’s face, after all.
So technically he’d heard plenty of opinions, just not a real one.
Taken aback by Alex’s response about not learning how to say ‘thanks’ in Xanino, Dante felt an agitation bubble under his skin. He didn’t even grow up in Xanino, not like Alex would even know about that anyways. But still, Queen Ophelia and Prince Percival had been amazing hosts. “Well thanks your majesty,” he snapped sarcastically, “For your information, Xanino is an amazing Kingdom, I wouldn’t suggest insulting their manners.” He made sure the words were less prickly, but he couldn’t help the offense on Xanino’s behalf.
Though when Alex agreed to show him, he was more unsure about accepting, but still nodded. “Thanks, I guess.” He commented, following Alex through the halls. He understood why he had gotten lost so early on, there were so many halls, so many turns and other such. He wondered how he was going to find his way back out of the Castle afterwards, attempting to memorize the path when Alex had spoken up again.
“It’s a lot different than the other Kingdoms I’ve been to,” Dante admitted, keeping his gaze on the ground, as if counting his own steps. There was a pretty good chance that he was doing exactly that. “It’s a pretty Kingdom.” He added, simply.
Though, he kind of wanted to make up for the tough spot, and he didn’t want to tick off a castle staff member, so he thought for a moment, before speaking up again, “How long have you worked at the castle?” and he was genuinely curious. This boy seemed close in age to Dante himself, maybe a little older, which meant that this man may have worked in the castle for most of his life.
Alex couldn’t help but appreciate the sarcasm from Dante, purely for its irony. The boy had no idea how close he’d gotten in his sarcasm to the truth. Of course, he would be addressed Your Highness, his father was Your Majesty, but really Dante surely must have no clue that he’d addressed an actual prince by a royal title and done so sarcastically. It really was amusing, which was saying a lot because Alex found very little amusing these days.
“Right, of course,” Alex nodded “I’m sure they’re wonderful.”
Technically he knew they were. He’d met people from Xanino, plenty of them. The queen and prince among them.
Thankfully, though, they brushed over the slight bump in the conversation and changed topics. The prince was at least glad to hear that Dante liked the kingdom, though he still seemed rather tactful in his wording.
“I’m glad you like it here,”’Alex nodded “Though I have to admit I didn’t take you for the adventurous, well-travelled type.”
He didn’t mean that with any offence, but most people didn’t leave the kingdom they were born in and apparently Dante had been to several. He didn’t seem the type to have wanderlust, to be desperate to visit new places.
It was officially confirmed to Alex that Dante did think he was one of the castle staff when he asked how long Alex had worked there.
“All my life,” Alex answered simply “lived here, I mean, not worked. It’s kind of a family thing.”
That was close to the truth and didn’t sound outlandish. It wasn’t unusual for the children of palace staff to end up working in the palaces themselves, especially if the family had accommodation in the palace anyway, which a lot of palace staff members did.
Anyway, he’d heard of this sort of thing plenty before. It was like that kingdom Wisteria, with their family of royal guards. What was that family called? The Verndari? That sounded right.
“I don’t take myself as an adventurer, either,” Dante commented, walking a bit faster, as if he could escape that conversation just by brushing it off. He’d rather stay in one place, but he had to do what he had to do, and that was it. He’d let Alex believe that was work related, and really, it was.
Dante was curt in words, blunt, perhaps shy, but he didn’t like wasting his breath when he didn’t need to. He’d much rather be reading than talking. Alex wasn’t too bad, though, he was rude or snappish, not severely so. He seemed helpful, a bit kind even.
He just seemed ominous, though, and his answer to Dante’s question affirmed it further. Of course, Dante had seen people live in castles and not work there, that was technically what Dante was doing in Xanino. He didn’t officially work for the queen, but he was a guest there, and from time to time would still do tasks. Like his one to Oralee.
Though, part of it may have been because she simply wanted him to get out more, to not hide himself away as much. He was just glad his task dealt with a Scholar and not someone like either of the Princes in Oralee.
Still, it was odd to live in a castle, be in a hurry to get somewhere, dress in staff-like clothing, and still not work for the Royal Family. “That’s interesting,” he simply responded instead, “What does your family do?”
A fair question, really, given that most families did something in exchange for remaining in the castles. Whether it be serving in the Royal Guard, or working as blacksmiths or merchants.
Alex couldn’t pretend that he was at all surprised by Dante’s question. Anyone would’ve asked the same were they in his situation. And Alexiares had prepared for it too, which was why he’d timed everything until now.
For it was at that moment that he stopped outside the doors of the library. It really hadn’t been too far a walk to the room from where the pair had met but the hallways were pretty difficult to navigate if one didn’t know them so it was actually probably good that Alex had happened to be there.
Poor guy could’ve ended up lost along these hallways for who knew how long otherwise.
Either way, now he had the pleasure of telling Dante who he actually was. He had enjoyed letting the other guy assume he was just a servant or member of the castle staff, but there was only so long it was fair to let it go on.
So in response to Dante’s very fair question, Alex leaned against the wall outside the library, reaching up to undo the blond bun he’d put his hair in.
“They’re kind of in charge around here,” Alex smirked “Oh, and just so you know for next time, it’s Your Highness.”
He even threw in a little wink, before gesturing to the library door for Dante and moving to step away; he really did have to head back to his own chambers and get changed before anybody saw him. His father would kill him if he knew.
Dante had waited for the answer, the smallest of smiles overcoming his face as he looked between Alex and the library. The company, while confusing, had been nice, and he was excited to explore the library.
He was about to walk in, opening his mouth to leave with final pleasantries, but then Alex was speaking, smirking. He was using the wall like he owned it, leaning against it, and the shift through Dante off.
The soft, small smile slipped right off his face, his face a picture of shock. Alex was the prince? The troublesome prince? Prince Alexiares?
For the first time during the conversation, fury flooded into Dante’s eyes, a glare directed at the prince. He moved to stand in front of the prince, blocking him from leaving, his shyness forgotten in the anger he felt, “What do you mean Your Highness?” He questioned, but he knew exactly what Alex meant. Dante wasn’t an idiot, and he didn’t appreciate being treated like he was one for...for the troublesome prince's own amusement.
Thinking back on the conversation now, it became even more obvious that Alex had just been toying around, playing Dante like some fool. That wasn’t going to cut it. “You're the prince?” The question was softer, because when Dante was agitated, he wasn’t loud, he was soft, to the point and blunt about it, “And you didn’t think to mention it?”
At the first question, Alex gave Dante a small smile.
“Come on, Dante, you seem like a smart guy.” he answered
Of course he knew that Dante actually knew exactly what he meant. But in Alex’s defence it was kind of a stupid question, even if it wasn’t exactly unwarranted.
He clicked his fingers, shooting Dante finger guns when the younger guy then stated that he was the prince.
“Bingo,” Alex answered “Okay, sue me, I didn’t mention it. It was kinda fun not doing the whole prince thing for a few minutes. Besides, I can tell that if you’d known who I was you wouldn’t have talked to me so casually. But yeah, fine, now you know. Prince Alexiares, at your service.”
Quite literally, actually, since he’d brought Dante to the library.
Okay so maybe the enjoyment he’d gotten out of pretending he wasn’t the prince had been at Dante’s expense, but Alex really didn’t feel that bad about it to be honest. It had felt nice to just be normal for a while. He wasn’t a prince who nobody dared talk to Like a human being. He wasn’t a freak with magic his father wanted him to hide. He wasn’t a reminder of the betrayal of his mother, and of Levinia itself. He wasn’t tainted by not being good enough to stop the war between Oralee and Levina.
So no, he didn’t feel that badly about it.
Regardless, Dante was agitated, annoyed, and absolutely baffled. Though the last was more from the complete whiplash this conversation was giving him. He listened to Alex, his face going calm and relaxed, though the barest twitch of his eye gave away his anger at the Prince.
“Oh, you want me to treat you casually?” Dante asked, almost seemingly sweet, as if just maybe he understood, though his next words had a more cruel bite, annoyed by Alex’s playful gestures, “Fine, Alexiares, I’ll make sure to remember that.”
Dante had lived around royals for the past few nights, he gave them respect because they deserved it. But if Alex wanted to be treated casually, then whatever, he could deal with Dante’s anger. Dante wasn’t going to hold that back just to make Alex feel better about himself, plus, Alex wasn’t exactly respected in Oralee, not from what Dante heard.
Dante himself had once though that was stupid, but he didn’t anymore. He understood where all those people came from, what they meant. The prince was merely a trickster, a nuisance.
Finally done with wasting his time on Alex, he gave the boy one last glare, “You’d think you would work on how you act with that reputation of yours,” he commented. He was agitated, being led on some game, before Alex practically threw it in his face and went to leave all for a joke. Maybe someone else wouldn’t have cared, but Dante felt betrayed. He had been around royals for a while now, but he felt like Alex just used people for his own humor, as pawns. Shaking his head and finally pushing at the doors ahead of him, he finished his original statement, “Because you’re worse than the rumors.”
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Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Mar 7, 2021 18:41:40 GMT -5
Athena smiled gently at Alex's teasing but didn't pay too much attention to it. She was too focused on trying to pry the gemstones from the damn bracelet. As if on auto-pilot, Athena took the brooch from Alex and started using the pin as leverage. It was working slowly but she had to use a lot of force to pry it free.
Athena only paused when she heard Alex mention the gemstones taking and absorbing powers. Her heart stopped for a moment and she stared really hard at the bracelet in her hand.
Here she was handling stones that could easily take her own powers away. Could leave her without a way to find her sisters one day. Find out what happened to them at least. She'd be powerless...
One part of her wanted to drop the bracelet like it was a hot rock. Leave the taking of it apart to someone else who wouldn't suffer. But the other part...
"We won't know until we try something..." She muttered in response finally pulling the stone free from the jewelry and putting it on the table in front of her. She set the brooch down in front of her as well and thought for a moment. What information were they missing?
"It might help if we knew where the stones came from. Your father never mentioned where he got them? Who gave them to him?" Athena asked looking between her friend and the stones. Maybe if they knew where the stones came from they might understand how they work better. Maybe even get an excuse to find the source.
Athena was going to suggest just that when She distantly heard a door open and voices entering the library. Her eyes widened and turned looked up at Alex in a panic. "Shit! Someone's coming!"
Pushing herself away from the table, Athena dropped the things she was holding and immediately started looking for an exit. There wasn't one close by that she could get too. And hiding under the table wouldn't be good cover. Anyone with the bare amount of eyesight would be able to see her. "Damn it! Hide the pieces," Athena commanded and started pushing books to the side.
The voices started getting closer. Much too close for Athena's liking. She needed to think quickly about why she was there. It would look suspicious if there was some armored woman in the library with one of Oralee's princes. So, what story could she give them?
"Kiss me," Athena commanded in a hiss. She stormed over to Alex and pulled him closer to her face. "Make it convincing," she finished quickly before pulling his lips to hers.
The kiss wasn't... unpleasant. But the thought of who was behind them kind of made everything a little sour.
"A-Alex?"
Athena pulled away from Alex and pretended to be surprised. Real surprise clutched her heart as she saw who exactly it was.
The intruders of the library were non other than the Crown Prince and two other nobles. He seemed to be showing them around the castle grounds and talking to them about politics or some other. Potential allies for when he might one day become king. However close or far that day may be.
"I didn't know you were in here with... um..." Caspian hesitated as he looked between his younger brother and this unknown woman with multiple weapons on her. Who had just been kissing his brother. He supposed he should have been surprised that Alex had taken an interest in anyone. However, he was more suspicious of this mercenary.
"Maylea your highness," Athena introduced herself and curtsied the best curtsy she had down in her entire life. Did this man deserve her respect? Too early to tell really. But for the time being she'd play along with half truths. "Maylea Athena Anaya Esmeralda Yarrow Frost. Daughter of Duke Frost in Wisteria."
Like she said. Half truths. She wasn't just going to say she was one of the lost Lenore princesses to some stranger.
"That's quite a name, Lady Frost," Caspian commented raising an eyebrow and looking back at his brother. Hoping for an explanation.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Mar 8, 2021 5:54:48 GMT -5
Alex watched as his friend carefully pried the stone free from the bracelet. Those stones, whatever they were, had more of a mystery to them than Alex thought he knew. He might never know how they really worked, but for Minke's sake they had to try. She was a child, she was alone. Though Alex didn't believe she'd ever admit it, she was probably scared. He had to do something to help her, especially if his father had something to do with it. He would not let his father's prejudices, the same ones that had harmed him, harm another person too.
"He never told me," Alex answered "but I think I should be able to find a subtle way to ask so that he doesn't get suspicious."
His father didn't tell him a lot of stuff, but Alex had learned over the years what buttons he could safely push when it came to his father and which ones were more dangerous. He knew there had to be a way of gleaning that information from the king without letting him realised that Alexiares had finally put two and two together about the bracelets. Alex could just confront him about the bracelets openly and find out that way, but not only would that be dangerous, it was a waste. In noble circles like this, knowledge was currency. Showing his cards too early would be a terrible move; it was more prudent to wait until it would be most advantageous to him. In fact, knowledge that he could hold over his father like that could be his last resort when it came to helping Minke.
Alex heard the voices and footsteps at the same time as Athena, eyes widening. The prince was spurred into action, rushing to pin the brooch back to his clothes, put the books back on the shelf (he'd undoubtedly messed with the shelving system but he had bigger things on his mind right at that second) and look for anywhere they might be able to go unseen, to no avail.
Athena commanded him to hide the pieces and Alex was way ahead of her, scooping them up and putting them in a pocket.
And then suddenly Athena was right in front of him, ordering him to kiss her.
"I-" he started to protest
I'm gay? Is that really what he'd been about to say? That was a pointless argument, he was pretty sure Athena at least suspected that he wasn't exactly straight. Neither of them really gave off the impression that they were straight, come to think of it, but Alex had never asked questions.
But what was even more stupid was he was thinking about that when there was no time to waste. Sexuality didn't really figure into the equation here if he cared at all about Athena's safety, or his own for that matter.
She told him to make it convincing, so Alex did the best he could, kissing her as she'd told him to. The kiss was okay, objectively. A decent kiss. It was easier if he tried to forget that he was kissing his friend. His friend who was a girl. Not his idea of an ideal kiss, but there they were.
It was only just as the footsteps came closer and Alex opened his eyes just a little to make sure they'd gotten everything that he saw a glint on the table beside him. The stone from the bracelet, a piece they'd both missed. Alex reached out and grabbed it, and had only just been able to get it safely into his pocket and close his eyes again when-
"A-Alex?"
Athena only had to pretend to be surprised, but Alex was genuinely surprised when his eyes flew open to reveal the three newcomers to the library.
Now, Alex had no idea what he had done in a past life to deserve this. Of all the people in all the world to walk in on him kissing someone. His older brother, showing two nobles around the palace.
The older brother with whom Alex had a slightly stiff, formal, kind of awkward relationship with. The older brother with whom Alex very rarely talked and would not be likely to share any secrets with. The older brother with whom Alex had never once spoken about his love life. In fact, keeping his family as far away from his romantic life as possible was something Alex had hoped to continue to do as long as he lived. Apparently that was ruined now.
"Caspian!" Alex exclaimed in surprise as he and Athena broke apart.
This really could not get any worse. The prince had been embarrassed plenty of times in his life, but this one really took the cake. He'd never wanted the earth to swallow him up more than he did at right that second.
”My lords,” came his awkward greeting to the nobles accompanying the prince.
The prince listened to his brother speak, grateful that Caspian had interrupted him before Alex could start talking and ruin everything. If he was left to awkwardly ramble this would go downhill incredibly fast.
"Oh, this is-" Alex began, looking to Athena in the hope that she'd step in because he didn't really know her name beyond Athena, nor did he want to just hand out her name to his brother.
Thankfully Athena did introduce herself, with possibly the longest name Alex had heard in his entire life. It was impressive really. Alex only had three names, and he hated his middle name. At least Athena had a lot of names to choose from.
Unfortunately, it was from that point that Caspian looked to Alexiares for an explanation. Great, this could only go well.
"I'm sorry, Caspian, I didn't know you'd be coming here," he started "I've known Maylea for a long time now, I promise she's no threat or anything."
He felt like he had to start by saying that, because in all fairness Athena did carry a lot of weapons around and the last thing Alex needed was his brother panicking about all of this. Technically he didn't believe Athena was no threat at all, she could be a threat to anyone she wanted to, even though he trusted her. But half-truths were definitely the way to go here, and it was true that he'd known Athena for a while. A long time was subjective, but he'd known her for long enough.
He could have called her Lady Frost as his brother had, but he kind of felt like since he'd just been kissing her, social niceties and formality had kind of gone out of the window.
At least this seemed believable; Alex had been sneaking out of the palace for years, that was how he'd met Athena in the first place, and he felt reasonably sure that fact hadn't escaped Caspian's notice.
"Just don't tell Father, okay?" he pleaded
The last thing Alex needed was his father being reminded even more that Alex was of marriageable age. The prince had been perfectly happy being overlooked by the king in this particular regard, but of late the king had been bringing the topic up more and more, probably wanting Alex out from under his feet. Make him somebody else's problem. Get him married and forget he existed, which apart from the getting married part suited Alex just fine. But still, he did not need his father set on the warpath for a wedding.
He didn't want Caspian to tell their stepmother either, and preferably he wouldn't utter a word to anyone at all. The problem was he doubted it would stay a secret regardless. Three people knew now, and the walls had eyes in these places anyway. Alex had no doubt rumours would start to spread sooner or later. He could only hope to contain them for as long as possible.
Either way, he didn't feel much like explaining the situation any further. He was pretty sure that in their eyes, what they'd just seen was pretty self-explanatory.
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Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Mar 9, 2021 0:42:36 GMT -5
Atlas was unable to keep from scratching at his jaw. Having shaved there earlier to look "cleaner" as the nobles called it it was starting to itch. Not the mention the suit he was wearing was highly uncomfortable. He wanted to scream.
But, he pulled his act together as he escorted Ress into the main hall on his arm. He adorned the fake smile that he'd seen on nobles and nodded his head politely at each that passed him. As they paused for a moment, Atlas dropped his smile and sighed heavily with a roll of his eyes.
"I hate it here," Atlas muttered as he turned towards Ress. He looked up towards where the Queen was sitting on her throne then scanned the room. He didn't see who he was looking for and he honestly he wanted to go as soon as possible. "Be careful, lass," He muttered in her ear. Giving her arm a quick squeeze, Atlas raised his eyebrows at her. "I mean it."
And with that he went off to find his target.
He wandered the room for a while, smiling at nobles he passed and avoiding any and all conversation with them. He could make do with small talk but if it came down to discussing politics or the economics of Ranaji or Wisteria. He couldn't even handle gossip about the kingoms. And this was all mostly because he didn't care about any of it.
He simply didn't care.
He did hear mentions of no representatives from Taluhtah attending to show respect to the new queen. Or at least that was the rumor, they could very well be hiding around somewhere in the room just as he and Ress were.
After a few minutes, he finally spotted the boy he was looking for. The young newly crowned prince.
Atlas cringed inwardly as he thought about what he was going to do. Kidnap a child from his home. Taking a deep breath and grabbing two glasses of wine from a passing servant, Atlas downed one glass, straightened his suit, set the glass back down on the tray, and took a sip from the second glass as he approached Carlo.
"Your highness," Atlas greeted with a gentle bow and a matching smile. He made sure to stay in control of his accent, making sure it wasn't so harsh and on the lighter side. Trying to sound not so... poor seemed to be the right word. "My name is Atlas Fox, I am one of Rajani's ambassadors for the night. If I might take a moment of your time? I have some things to discuss from my Queen to yours and seeing as her majesty is currently indisposed," Atlas gestured towards the prince's sister who (despite trying her best) looked kinda bored.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Mar 9, 2021 2:19:00 GMT -5
Carlo had grinned as they returns to the main gala room, bidding Callan a nice night as he went to converse with other guests. He had felt light, happier, though he wanted to talk to Tia.
Callan may have forgiven Carlo, but Carlo knew his sister. He knew that she wouldn’t forgive him, that she’d keep that anger towards him. Waiting to talk to her was for the best, that talk could cause a scene, and to be honest, Carlo didn’t want to cause anymore issues for Tia than he had to.
He had separated from his guests after a while, walking over to a quieter corner, watching as a prince, older than him, but only a bit older than Tia chatted with other guests.
The crowned prince was shaken from his observations by a much more intimidating looking figure. Though Carlo wasn’t too surprised, he was acquaintances with Callan, after all. Still, he was taken aback for a moment.
When the man spoke, he sounded nice, like he was approaching an almost frightened deer. Carlo immediately flashed a smile back at the man, Atlas, as he ad introduced himself to be. Carlo immediately held out a hand in greeting, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Atlas of Rajani,” he returned the pleasantry kindly.
He couldn’t lie though, it was surprising to see such a kind person come from Rajani. Not that Rajani was bad, but from what Carlo had heard, many of Rajanian’s were closed off, strict, well-mannered, sometimes even stoic. When he met Queen Ernestine, he had noticed such traits. But Representative Atlas seemed nice, offering smiles that seemed a little too forced, not that Carlo was innocent in that way either.
At the mention of his sister, he glanced at her. Technically, this man should talk to her, but he was being offered something. He wasn’t being treated like a threat, like a secret, he was being offered to do something important. Something important for his kingdom, perhaps even his sister.
He was being given a chance to prove himself. It was small, but helping this man, Atlas, could be a step towards redemption.
“That’s Queen Adrestia for you,” he commented, humor in his voice, “She’s not a fan of parties.”
Nodding towards one of the halls, the same one he talked with Callan in, he smiled softly, “I wouldn’t mind at all. I’ll make sure to get the message back to my sister.”
With that, he began leading the representative towards the Hall.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Mar 15, 2021 13:57:51 GMT -5
Tristan Ginemoux was dead.
The crown prince of the kingdom of Halstein, first in line to succeed his childless older brother. And like many secondborn sons, Tristan had dedicated his life to rubbing the comparative freedom he had in his siblings' faces. Unlike the oldest Ginemoux sibling, who was constrained by the heavy duty of the crown, and the youngest, constrained not only by her younger age but by discrimination on account of her gender, Tristan could do whatever he wanted. So he'd joined the army, travelling the world, winning glory and gold for himself and being adored in every kingdom he entered. Everybody loved him, and the arrogant Tristan had known it ever since he were a boy. Being the prince, he was never in any danger on the battlefield. One couldn't simply let the secondborn son die while the king had not yet achieved his aim of begetting an heir. At least, that was the idea.
In reality, it had been all too easy to arrange for the prince's personal retinue to be less than vigilant. One didn't have to do all their killing on the battlefield; one assassin in his tent at the army camp had been quite enough to seal the demise of the kingdom's most beloved royal, the Bull of Halstein.
Unfortunately for King Casimir of Halstein, Adira Ginemoux had no intention of ending there.
The sixteen-year-old princess of Halstein could just wait, of course. Her brother was unmarried and unlikely to do so given that he'd rejected every eligible suitor in Oikoumene. She was the only remaining logical heir - or she should be.
The problem was that her parents had died under mysterious circumstances, and she'd originally assumed one of her brothers was behind it. Tristan had seemed a good choice; he was a warrior, and he had always been the type to see what he wanted and take it. Unfortunately the assassin Adira had hired to kill him had found no sign at the camp that Tristan had been responsible, and nor had Adira herself been able to find any such evidence in the palace, no matter how many times she dug.
Casimir could have been responsible, she'd reasoned. As first in line he stood to have the most to gain. But she also knew Casimir was too smart for that. Everybody would suspect him - everybody did suspect him. Besides, there had been nothing to make Casimir suddenly feel pressure to take the throne; all he'd had to do to inherit the kingdom was wait. And Casimir had been fully prepared to wait, as far as Adira knew. That was the kind of man he was; measured, responsible, patient, calm. Too calm sometimes, honestly.
No, it couldn't be him. And if it wasn't Casimir, that meant it was someone outside the family. Threats from within were something Adira knew how to deal with. After all, she'd grown up in a royal family. Thrones tended to attract blood, and more often than not the murder that occurred was a family matter. Halstein's throne was particularly bloody, and it was said that the blotchy pattern of the granite from which it was made was the blood and poison that tainted the seat.
Threats from outside of the Ginemoux family were worse. That meant rebellion, that meant war, that meant bloodshed and overthrow. It meant a pretender to the throne, and Adira knew for certain that if there were a civil war at that moment, her brother would lose. he didn't have the resourcefulness, he didn't have the ruthlessness. He didn't have what it took to fight a civil war, which were always the most savage. He didn't inspire love like Tristan, and he didn't inspire fear either. The nobles of the kingdom would see any candidate for the throne, legitimate or otherwise, as a better potential ruler than a 16-year-old girl.
If she wanted a chance the rule this kingdom, if she wanted to stop the fall of her family to rebellion and war, she had to do something. Casimir had to die. That was the conclusion to which the young princess had come.
That was how she found herself entering her brother's chambers one evening. The young man lay silhouetted in his bed, under piles of blankets. The dusk light gently flowing through the lancet window by the bed, illuminating the threads of the topmost blanket, rich dark rubies and glinting golds. The eldest prince, as far as everyone in the palace knew, had begun to fall ill around a week ago, only days after Tristan's funeral.
Adira entered gently, laying a silver tray with a soft clatter on the bedside table before standing by the king's bed. The two were alone. Ideal.
"How are you feeling?" she asked with concern, leaning to brush some hair from her brother's forehead. His skin was waxy, pale and cold.
Casimir did not speak, made only a faint moan as he rolled slightly to look his sister in the face. His eyes were glassy as if given their sheen by a fever. Adira nodded understandingly, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder before moving to get a goblet from the tray she'd brought in.
"Come, you should drink something," she encouraged "it might give you some strength."
She helped Casimir sit up, propping heavy pillows behind him as she handed him the drink she'd brought, even lifting the cup to assist the king in taking a drink before placing the goblet back on its tray and turning her attention back to her older sibling.
"Better?" she questioned
The young man made a sound of assent, and Adira smiled again.
"Good. It's to be expected of course; you'll feel better before it takes effect." she said simply
Finally her brother was prompted to speak, brows weakly furrowing in confusion.
"What...what do you mean?" he asked, his hands gripping the blankets a little more tightly.
Adira chuckled lightly then, shaking her head as if he'd said something utterly silly. As if he should have known.
"The poison, Casimir," she answered "oh, don't worry, I thought everything through. I've been poisoning you for more than a week now - how else did you think you fell ill so quickly? This is just the final dose - it's a little stronger."
She'd been oh so careful about it. She had friends everywhere in the palace, many of whom were willing to help her without question. And those who weren't were simply unwitting accomplices. She'd been careful not to be linked to the poison her brother had been consuming.
"Why?" his voice was more confused than ever, laced this time with hurt and betrayal.
Adira wished that would tug at her heartstrings, wished it would make her feel anything.
"That's a good question," the princess said in return "because I want the throne, and after what happened to mother and father it seems I'm not the only one. If there's an alternative nobody would ever give the throne to me; I have to make my move now. There's going to be a war, Casimir, and you're not the leader Halstein needs. You'd lead us to disaster. Neither you nor Tristan were right for the throne; you too moderate, Tristan too stupid. It's really nothing personal, but you stand in the way of this family's survival now."
Adira was the right person, she knew it. She could lead the country to glory. Expand it, make it stronger. She might not have the country's support right now, but she would. Once they saw what she saw.
"They'll figure out it was you," Casimir challenged
Now, that idea really did bring Adira some genuine amusement. Did he know nothing about her after all this time? Did he really believe for a moment that she hadn't planned out every last detail of this?
"My dear brother!" she responded, raising a hand to her chest "You won't be able to speak before long, believe me. Nobody shall know it was me; this is simply going to look like the progression of your illness."
She began to head towards the door then, lifting the tray and the goblet back in her hands. She couldn't stick around too long, not if she wanted to avoid suspicion. She wanted to put as much distance between her and her brother's death as possible.
"I'll leave you be," she said, voice gentle once again "it shouldn't take too long, I'd judge maybe around half an hour. Oh, don't look so forlorn. You should smile; your death ensures the survival of the kingdom and our family."
She was just passing across the room when her brother's now feeble voice reached her once again.
"I hope you're hated for this,"
Adira took another step toward the door, casting a glance over her shoulder at the dying king.
"They think you killed our parents, Casimir," Adira gently replied "if they do think I killed you, I think it will win me love."
And that was it. The teenager left the room, tray in hand. She'd hand it over for washing in the kitchens, make sure it was given to one of the less scrupulous members of the kitchen staff who wouldn't check the contents of the goblet. All that was left was to tell the staff the king did not wish to be disturbed, and with any luck by the time anyone found him it would be too late.
All that was left was to prepare to be told she was to be the new queen of Halstein. |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Mar 18, 2021 16:33:42 GMT -5
Korinna glanced at Puck, offering a gentle smile at her friend, before looking at Declan sadly, expecting to be ignore in her offer.
She wouldn't lie, she felt so bad for him, for how sad he was, the constant moping, the constant guilt, the constant want to move on. It was his heart and Puck's humor that made her love both of them so much. They were her closest friends, and she felt so bad for them both.
But witches? She almost hated herself for suggesting the very idea. Then again, there were worse fates than witches.
"Such a pretty charm, isn't she?" The accent was blunt, inspecting, a ripping off feathers with manic interest, "A jewel like this? Such pretty feathers, they'd make a pretty coat, would they not?"
She was snapped from her reverie, unique pink tinged chocolate eyes snapping towards her friends. The wisp-like hair that perched almost as if defying gravity floated by her as she wavered in place for a moment.
"A witch?" Wincing at the crack in her voice, a meek smile was offered after a moment, mouth forced upwards into a smile. "Yeah, we can find a witch."
They'd want one who even if they didn't possess magic, had some relics or access to spells or books on the subject. No Factioneer could tamper into magic dealing with life or death, or the reversal, but surely if they could be magically petrified, the process could be undone, or they could be freed from Declan.
Pushing at Puck for his comment, she though back on the days she freely got to travel, when her limbs didn't always feel stone cold and stiff. There was a village nearby, located at the forest, it may be a good place to start.
"We can try that nearby village," Kore offered, though to be fair, there was no guarantee a witch would be there. It would be a good way to start.
A moment passed, before she was grinning, wings springing out in her excitement, the dazzling feathers tickling the air, "It'll be like old times!" the chirp was excitable, as she flew up slightly, offering her hands to Puck in case he wanted a lift to fly slightly, "Another journey. It may help you realize we're here and move on!"
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Mar 18, 2021 16:47:39 GMT -5
Dante, outwardly, was the picture of a respectable advisor to the royals. But inside, the poor boy was freaking out, mind thinking faster than he could keep up with. Though his mind seemed to catch onto the term girl, not woman, and his mind latched onto it. He held onto the words, watching as the Prince spoke to the King of Taluhtah.
When Caspian opened the door, he beckoned King Drake to follow him, walking in silence for a few moments before finally speaking.
"If you don't mind me asking, sire," the words trickled out like honey, stable and smooth, "But the more we know of the girl, the better."
A step, another, soft pitter patters of steps, "We want to prepare our kingdom as best as possible for any possible threats. If we could know what makes her dangerous, we can prevent her from harming the Kingdom, find ways to catch her and return her to her rightful place."
Dante hated to admit it, but he wanted to know what made Minke so dangerous to this man, if that's even who he meant. He could have meant Alex's questionable mercenary friend. But he could mean Minke and that's what Dante thought he meant. If he should return Minke to the king who had been an ally to Dante's new home, or if he should trust the rebel prince and powerful child he just met.
The records were close, in an area only open to the royals and their advisors, Dante didn't even know if Alex even know about the Record room, given that the King didn't seem to care much for Alex or trust him.
That wasn't Dante's task though, getting knowledge was.
He opened the door to the Records room, holding it open for the King, before following the royal inside, gesturing forwards, "If we know anything about your mystery girl, it'll be here."
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Mar 18, 2021 17:10:32 GMT -5
When the King of Oralee heard his youngest son plead with someone to "Not tell Dad", you can imagine his anger and concern surmounted. Too many secrets resided around Alex, and with each passing day the anxiety remained that Alex would reveal it.
Looking back, when Alex was revealed to have magic, King Chadwick probably should have hired an assassin to take care of the job, that would be easy to cover up. But by now?
No, no, too risky. Aaoltonen was already under enough stress by now, with the King and Queen poisoned, and the old King and Queen were just killed in Wisteria. It would be too suspicious if Alex was suddenly killed, and even if the Kingdom detested the boy, Chadwick doubted they'd accept such an incident without feeling distrust towards the king for not preventing it.
But when Chadwick heard those words, he felt his heartrate pickup, ready to handle Alex himself if need be. Pushing open the door, his flaming eyes found his son, glowering darkly as his voice filtered with the strength to be expected by a king, "Don't tell dad what, Alexiares?" He questioned.
Except, he maybe questioned a bit quickly, right by Alexiares was some girl. A girl who looked odd, but seemed plausible enough to be some huntress, perhaps, though by now Chadwick was filled with confusion rather than rage.
He turned to the son he trusted most, placing a gentle hand on Caspain's shoulder. Chadwick just returned from a...visit of sorts, with the prisoner. The knights he had handle the issue were off, cleaning about, keen on their secrecy under the King's orders. The vermin in the dungeons was interrogated for answers, but the vermin was almost as stubborn as his son. He heard the rumors about the violet-eyed freaks, about how they infested and took what they pleased.
Similar to Alex, he supposed. Though Dante and the others watched him from day to day. "Caspian, do you know what's happening?" He asked, softly.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Mar 23, 2021 7:57:12 GMT -5
"I'm sorry, baby, but I need you to end this war."
The last words the young prince had heard from his mother as she had handed the struggling child to a rider he didn't recognise, tapping the horse to set it moving. The Levinian crest the man had worn had not been enough to calm the terrified child, and it was only the tight grip the rider had around his waist that had kept the squirming eight-year-old still.
The boy had watched as the rider brazenly approached the palace gates, and was allowed to pass out into the night without so much as a word from the guards. He hadn't understood properly at the time what that meant. The queen had bribed them to help her in committing a treasonous act against her kingdom by handing over the prince to the enemy. The fact that they'd agreed was a comment on how desperate they were for an end to the bloodshed.
The child, everyone seemed to have agreed, was a suitable sacrifice for the safety of the kingdom. It didn't seem to occur to anyone just how much Oralee had failed its prince, how much the Kinnaird family had failed its son.
All anyone had seen when they looked at him was his half Oraleean, half Levinian blood. The political potential he carried. Too young to know the power her held and use it in diplomacy, and so suitable for now only as a pawn for the kingdom to use as it needed.
The young Alexiares hadn't known at the time, but his mother had sealed her fate with that act. The final perfidious nail in the coffin. He wouldn't hear the anger of his father upon realising what his wife had done.
It was a long and mostly silent ride to Levina, the rider having little patience for (but no cruelty or animosity towards) his young charge. He clearly wasn't a 'kid' person. That had suited Alex just fine; he'd frankly been too terrified to do much talking anyway, nor had he particularly felt like making smalltalk with this man. He simply missed his parents, his brother and his home and more than anything was simply confused.
Eventually, though, their ride through the plains of Oralee and then the craggy and mountainous lands at the border of Levina ended at a castle. A great building with huge towers and strong walls, and while no less beautiful as a building, decidedly different-looking from Alex's Oraleean home. They'd left Oralee in the darkness of night some days ago, and now arrived in the neighbouring kingdom of Levina in the dawn light.
After passing through more than a few gates and receiving curious looks from many guards, intrigued to see the prince from Oralee, the son of Levina's princess. And now their best hope for an end to the war.
Once inside, aching from the long journey, Alex was ushered by the man into the palace, eventually finding their was to a huge set of double doors attended by guards. They pulled the doors open as soon as they saw the prince and his captor, and the two stepped inside.
The room was huge, with vaulted ceilings and many columns. The dawn light streaming through the windows played against the walls delicately. Two thrones sat on a dais, and the man escorted Alex towards them, the pair stopping on the stone floor before the steps.
"Your Majesties," the man began with a bow to the two stately figures on the throne "I did as you instructed and met with Queen Adreana. As you can see, I recovered the boy."
The figures sitting on the thrones seemed far more occupied with looking at Alex than taking in what the man who'd brought him there was saying. The boy hadn't moved at all, much less bowed alongside the man alongside him. He knew who these people were, they were family. His mother's family. Not that he'd really met them properly before. They were largely what he'd expected; stately, strong-looking.
The man sitting on one of the thrones was the one to speak up first and address the man, nodding in acknowledgement of his words.
"We are grateful, Sir Stellan. Please leave us and write to King Chadwick immediately. Assure him of the safety and good health of his son and furnish him with our demands for Alexiares' return. Ensure that he knows we have no intention of hurting the boy; we are honourable in Levina and will not harm an innocent child unnecessarily. However, we cannot guarantee Alexiares' safety should Chadwick continue to commit atrocities against our kingdom. The prince is our hostage and acts as insurance for his father's good behaviour and honourable conduct. Once you are done you may get some rest after your long journey."
The man Alex now knew to be named Stellan dipped his head in a gesture of respectful agreement, already stepping back.
"Very well, my lord," Stellan agreed
And with that, the unfamiliar horserider who had been Alex's company since he left Oralee disappeared, leaving the confused young boy only in the presence of his aunt and uncle. They stood in silence for a long moment, Alex too afraid and overwhelmed to do much of anything at this point. He clutched instead at his clothes in an effort to centre and comfort himself.
His aunt smiled gently, gesturing for Alex to approach.
"Come, child," she encouraged "You're quite safe here."
Alex was hesitant, but approached his aunt slowly, eventually getting close enough that she could clasp his hand in hers. It felt warm, Alex noted, after the cold air outside.
"What's going on?" Alex asked "What do you want from my father?"
The eight-year-old had some inkling of what was happening based on the interaction in the throne room up to now, but he couldn't fully understand it. All he could understand was that he was in a kingdom that wasn't his with people he didn't really know well.
The queen shook her head, gently squeezing Alex's hand.
"That's not something you need to worry about, dear." the woman assured him, barely flickering when the fearful and mistrusting Alex pulled his hand away.
This woman wasn't his mother, Alex knew that much. She might be his aunt but that didn't matter to him when he knew next to nothing about her. He didn't feel safe with her, not yet, and he wasn't just going to take her word for it that he was safe. He'd heard what his uncle said, and he had certainly understood enough to glean that their promise not to harm Alex was entirely conditional.
The queen seemed eager to change the subject, and looked towards an area of the throne room Alex hadn't noticed before.
"Why don't you meet your cousin?" she suggested "Aurore, sweetheart, come here!"
A girl whose presence Alex hadn't taken note of before looked up from where she'd been occupying herself with her own activities, and approached her mother and Alex. She moved a little quickly and eagerly, so Alex shrunk back at first, clearly a little anxious about this whole situation. Not that anyone could blame him.
Aurore seemed to take note of this and stepped back a little with a smile, taking care to approach a little more slowly the second time so as not to alarm her cousin.
"Aurore, this is your cousin Alex, he's going to be staying with us for a while." the queen explained.
And that was it. The start of a shy and awkward introduction between two cousins, and the beginning of Alexiares' stay in Levina. The thing that ended the war but ultimately caused the death of his mother and tainted the way Oralee viewed Alex forever.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Mar 29, 2021 15:41:57 GMT -5
Prince Carlisle the handsome great lead Atlas, grinning softly as he started exaggeratedly talking to pass the time. A bit of a tour, a bit of kindness.
"That is a portrait of my grandparents, and that one over there is from the day I almost broke my arm after Tia stole my biscuit at breakfast," he smiled at the memory. A breakfast in the castle before the whole runaway business came up, when he and his sister we closer. As a kid, he had been a bit foot aggressive, apparently, and the artwork on the wall was made later that day, a family portrait, with a smile on his lips, and one wrist in the hands of his other. He was pretty sure Tia and him kept elbowing each other while it was being made, but no matter what occurred, it was a reminder of happier times.
He smiled, it was a sadder, more haunted, "I'm proud of her," he commented, stopping, staring at the portait of his sister nearby, "She'll make an amazing queen. Our parents would have been proud of her."
However, Atlas hadn't made a response in a while, the boy had a sinking feeling now, though he couldn't identify why. Turning slightly, he hadn't even gotten to see Atlas' form before he was put into a chokehold. He made a jumbled scream sound, but it was muffled, and panic set in. The boy kicked and kicked, eyes wide and full of fear.
The effort, however, was futile...
Ress was decked out in her dress, looking like a regal figure of authority, though she glared at the fabric draping from her form. It made her look like that Queen of Wisteria, that was to say, it made her look like some consolation prize, some princess who needs guards to protect her, who served as some dainty little girl. That was the say, she detested it, but it made her look more harmless.
When Atlas secured Carlo, her eyes widened, a part of the act, and she quickly traversed over the the head guard that she had gathered intel on for the past few minutes. It was pretty easy to tell his position, given his armor, and apparently his name. Making sure to make herself look panicked, she snagged his arm, pulling him after her with some of her strength.
To answer any questions she had, she pulled him in the same direction Atlas took the prince, her goal was to confuse and scare him, get him away from the group to properly handle him. "I assume you're a guard?" She questioned, before glancing in the direction the prince went, "A few moments ago, I saw this strange man take a young man in this direction," her voice wobbled in forced anxiety, though her training helped her play it off as real. "That man...he had this knife, and the boy...oh dear, he looked a lot like the prince."
She let go of his arm, looking between the guard and the hall, pulling at her gloves nervously, "But that's impossible, right?" She questioned, looking at Callan like he could answer her questions, voice soft not to attract any other unwanted attention, "I mean, there's guards everywhere? But what if it was? I'm from Rajani, and I've only seen the prince a few times, but it looked so much like him, and I didn't see him when I went to find you..."
The rambling part was down, playing a stressed damsel in distress. Ress had to admit that while she wasn't the best actor, she was good at some manipulation. What guard wouldn't investigate some dignitaries worries about a prince being pulled from a party at knife-point?
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Mar 29, 2021 16:30:34 GMT -5
Callan had looked in some alarm when he felt a hand tugging on his arm with some force, soon seeing a panicked-looking young woman. She reminded him so much of Tia it instantly brought his walls down. He’d grown up with the queen and he felt safe around anyone who reminded him of her. This girl was young, and frightened - he felt as protective of her as he would of Tia.
When she asked if he was a guard, he nodded, already looking around the room to try and see the source of her panic.
“I am, miss,” he answered
Before he could ask her how he could help she was already spilling a whole story, Callan’s eyes furrowing as he listened. As she explained, his blood ran cold. His heart drummed heart against his chest like some panicked caged bird, fluttering and raging against the bars of his ribs.
Carlo. Cold dread filled him instantly, settling in his stomach like a lead weight. He couldn’t let anyone get hurt on his watch; whether it was the prince or not, someone was obviously in danger. But Callan could not rest with the possibility that the prince was being harmed. Not because it would get him in trouble, but because he’d grown up with the boy. He was like a little brother to him and he felt responsible for him.
“The prince or not, I have to have a look,” Callan returned “show me where you saw him take him.”
There might be guards everywhere, but Callan could never discount the possibility someone had moved through the crowd unseen. That was why he was there, after all. He knew Tia would be safe with the other guards there, and if Carlisle was truly in danger there was no time to waste. Tia couldn’t get mad at him for leaving when this was the reason.
So he led the girl lead him in the direction she’d indicated, moving swiftly through the crowd accompanied by her. It wasn’t long before the party was just a distant, dull babble of conversation behind closed doors. Callan and the girl alone.
He already had his hand on the hilt of the sword, prepared to draw it at the slightest sign of danger of threat. His pulse hammered in his neck, his senses heightened. Something about this didn’t feel right at all, but all he could think of was what might be happening to Carlo.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Apr 6, 2021 17:17:30 GMT -5
As soon as they separated from the throng of people, Ress suddenly stopped, seemingly staring at nothing as she let Callan pace ahead of her.
This was the guard of this palace? So easily mislead. Ernestine would be proud.
"I fear he may be gone by now," She whispered out, dark eyes narrowed at him, before the focused on a nearby candlestick setting on a table. Stepping closer to it, watching as the candle's flame lit the area around it.
Her fingers rested on the candlestick, running up the golden metal, gripping it in her hand and walking closer. Under the guise of using it as some kind of torch. Except, as she approached, she quickly blew out the flame, tipping the candlestick enough for the hot wax and candle to escape, her eyes locked on him.
This guard who just wanted to save some prince, who seemed like a nice person. They were kidnapping a kid and one of his protectors, all for a bargaining chip, a show of power of some new naïve queen.
But it was her queen's orders, and she had to obey. Without much sympathy in her voice, her cold eyes focused on him, sounding nonchalant more than apologetic, "Sorry, but if it's any consolation, you'll see your prince soon enough,"
With that, she aimed for a swift blow to the head with the candlestick.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 6, 2021 17:59:11 GMT -5
Callan had noticed the change in the light, the movement of flickering candlelight. It soon became apparent to him with a glance that the girl who walked behind him had picked up a candlestick to use as a torch, lighting their way through the palace. That was good.
“Be that as it may,” Callan had replied to her first words “it’s not my job to just give up on him.”
Whether the prince was already gone or not was irrelevant. Callan couldn’t very well not look. Not just because it was his job, but because that boy was someone the guard saw like a little brother. Regardless of the distance and tension between them these last years, Carlisle was as good as family as far as Cal was concerned.
You didn’t leave family behind. And you didn’t let them down.
Callan had been cautious, hand remaining on the hilt of his sword as he listened for footsteps that might tell of the presence of the prince or his assailant.
He was aware enough to notice the light going out, and catching the girl’s words and recognising them as a threat, the guard acted fast. Thankfully he’d already been prepared to draw his sword.
The Verndari were said to have iron blood. Not true, of course, and nobody seriously believed it. The Verndari were warriors, after all, blood was their business. Still, it was something people said.
How to keep the rumour alive, Tybalt Verndari had told his son?
Don’t let people see you bleed.
The ring of metal sliced cleanly through the air as Callan drew his sword, followed with a clash as he turned to face the girl and the sword and candlestick met.
“The candlestick’s resourceful, I’ll give you that,” Callan commented “but I think you’d better tell me where he is. You only stand a chance of living if you’re useful, and you’re only useful to me if you talk.”
He didn’t know who this woman was or who she was working for. Right now Callan’s first priority was Carlo and getting him to safety, if he was still in the palace. They couldn’t have taken him that far, it hadn’t been long since Callan had spoken to him.
He didn’t care who he had to hurt to do that either.
With that thought in mind the guard pushed back against the candlestick to put some distance between the two of them, stepping back slightly as he readied his sword and made a strike, aiming for her arm. If he could incapacitate her the fight would be over quickly, and if he could avoid killing her they could get some information out of her about who she was working for.
Because after all, while it wasn’t this first priority, it was important that Tia know who had launched this attack. Especially if he was unable to recover the prince.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Apr 7, 2021 16:30:12 GMT -5
Ress looked surprised as Callan parried, though she smirked, "So the pretty boy is smarter than he looks," she commented, pushing back as well, twirling the candlestick in her hands. Not the best weapon, but it would do, "Good, this ought to be fun then."
She seemed to ignore his threat, instead just smiling, a secretive little smile, as if simply challenging him to try. As much as he was trained, he seemed a little too boastful for his own good. She wasn't an idiot, she was a trained assassin, a trained warrior under her Queen's orders.
Spinning her candlestick, she readied it for a defense as she spotted him readying an attack. Blocking it so the blade hit the candlestick, and pushing it back towards him herself, before stepping back herself, safe from the blade for a few moments.
Tilting the candlestick slightly as if an extension of her arm, she glanced back at him, dark eyes narrowed as she glanced at him. She tapped the candlestick to her chin, as if pondering, "What a shame for your poor Prince. Wasting precious time, are you?"
Darting forward to make her own attack that time, a bit of a dirtier play in her mind, she planted her feet and started to swing left, using speed to her advantage. She wanted to misdirect him, get him to block to the left, before kicking up with her right leg, aiming to push him back or strike his abdomen. If she could get him to flounder for a moment, she could disarm him. Getting rid of that sword meant she could pin him and take care of him swiftly and easily.
Unlike the guard, she didn't serve for saving people. She used her talents for a corrupt queen. Sadly, that meant Callan would have to pay the price for that.
Failure was never an option to Ernestine, which mean that it wasn't an option at all.
And Ress had no intention on failing her Queen.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 7, 2021 16:55:55 GMT -5
Callan narrowed his own eyes, the green so common among the Verndari, as he looked back at the woman’s dark eyes.
”Yes, god forbid I not provide you entertainment,” he responded, grunting as she pushed the sword back towards him after parrying with the candlestick.
Callan was a good fighter, but so was this woman. He could tell by the way she held herself. Honestly, though, Callan did not claim to be the best fighter in the world. He’d been beaten numerous times. But he’d always been good enough to stay alive, and that was what mattered. He’d seen fighters much better than him fall, sometimes to less skilled warriors. All it took was determination and luck.
He was going to do his best to get out of this fight on top if he could, and he was determined to try to get Carlo back before any harm came to him.
He ignored her comment about the prince, because it hit too close to home. Of course he was worried he wasn’t making the right decision, that he was wasting time fighting this girl while Carlo could be getting hurt. But the problem was he didn’t know where the prince was.
When the unknown woman made her move, Callan had no choice but to strike left in order to try to block her attack. It was instinctual, natural, that he make that move.
Unfortunately it left him vulnerable to the kick she aimed at him. He tried to dodge it but wasn’t quite fast enough and so while he didn’t get the full force of it, it was enough to get the desired effect, hitting him in the abdomen and sending him back a little as he lost his footing.
He tried to regain his balance, knowing it made him vulnerable, but while he did so it gave Ress a chance to make a move before he could retaliate and while he was destabilised.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Apr 11, 2021 22:02:56 GMT -5
"Being entertaining makes you more valuable to me," Ress replied coolly to his blatantly sarcastic remark, her dark eyes narrowing in humor as she stared him down, "Shows you got more than just looks, pretty boy."
The fight continued a bit more, a bit of a dance. She made her move, kicking into his abdomen, and got the desired effect. The poor guard barreled backwards ever so slightly, a bit unstable, and she moved quickly while he attempted to right himself.
A swift hit into the abdomen with the candlestick, just enough to get easier access to his head if he bent down. The swoosh, perhaps the last sound the guard would hear before the candlestick struck into the side of his head, not quite hard enough to do lasting damage, but enough to hit the pressure point.
A quick way of putting her valuable prisoner to sleep, one that may cause a bit of pain in his jaw later on, though.
When the job was done, she dropped the candlestick, letting off a grunt of annoyance as she wrung out her hand, waving it to dislodge some of the pain from the reverberation of the metal. Fighting in a dress was less than ideal as well, with the stupid thing making her kicks and hits so much more limited. Though, it wasn't as long as it could have been, thank goodness.
Which meant that the next move would be to transport the guard to the meeting spot with Atlas, and round up their prisoners. Though some valuable lessons were learned in that fight for sure.
Use the prince to make the guard cooperate. If he's concerned about the prince's well-being, use the prince to keep him in line.
And maybe, just maybe, it'd turn out fine. With that, she slung his arms around her frame, using her strength to help her practically drag him along the dark halls. It wouldn't be too far though, given the fact that she lured him close to the meeting area Atlas and her had settled on earlier.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 12, 2021 15:15:36 GMT -5
Callan couldn’t help but note that that was the second time this woman had called him ‘pretty boy’, so clearly his looks were becoming a thing in this interaction. If she had some kind of thing for him, he thought, she could just say it. Callan couldn’t say he felt the same, not that she wasn’t pretty, but it was still nice to be appreciated.
They’d continued to fight for a while until the moment she managed to destabilise him, and she used the opportunity before he could right himself to hit him hard in the abdomen, doubling him over despite the simple leather armour he’d worn. He preferred that at these kind of events mainly because it was less noticeable and allowed him to move through the crowd and keep any eye on things less conspicuously. It also helped him move more quickly. He had heavier armour he wore for battle or ceremonial instances but for ease of movement and practicality-wise he preferred the leather armour he wore. There were plenty of other royal guards attending that evening who wore the more noticeable metallic armour so they looked grand and intimidating for the queen. Tia knew Callan had his own way of doing things and she was okay with this armour issue.
Unfortunately said leather armour, while still very protective against this kind of blunt trauma, wasn’t enough to stop Ress’ forceful strike doubling him over a little. It wasn’t even full armour that protected his stomach anyway, more simply pauldrons and vambraces since Callan had had backup and hadn’t expected much trouble that night regardless. Not that he was a heavy fighter anyway, he favoured lighter armour for ease of movement. All of this meant it was certainly enough for Ress to get that strike to his head.
And indeed the last sound he’d heard was the whoosh of the candlestick and the clatter of his sword hitting the floor. The young man was not aware of the pain as the heavy thing struck the side of his head, though that pain would surely resurface tenfold when he regained consciousness.
Not only had he failed to protect the royal family, not only had he failed in the basic task of finding out who this woman was and who she was working for, but he’d also failed his family. The Verndari family’s entire reputation was built upon their success as warriors and protectors of the royal family. They had failed only recently to protect Tia’s parents from their assassin, and now Callan had let harm come to Carlo and be kidnapped himself.
One could only imagine the damage if that news got out. They’d say that House Verndari was crumbling, no longer worthy of the esteem it had held in previous generations. Perhaps it had past its most glorious days and was meant for a world that was gone now. A world that had still had its magic, a world where qualms were addressed honourably and wars fought by respectable means rather than nefarious, shadowy ones like these.
A world like this one perhaps didn’t have room for the old ways and antiquated oaths of the Verndari anymore.
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