Test thread goes WHAT

[Lady Lagomorph]

HeyI'mTalkingHereDammit
This is just normal text





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tab tab tab tab Mood: ????
tab tab tab tab Location: ????
tab tab tab tab With: ????
tab tab tab tab Talking to: ????
tab tab tab tab Outfit: Lol not much to see
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[Lady Lagomorph]

♔Full Name:

→ Ilina Marija Mitreski

♔Nickname:

→ Lina, Illie

♔Age:

→ • Twenty-four

♔Country of Origin:

→ Macedonia (part of the Ottoman Empire)

♔Aristocratic Title:

→ Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organization – daughter of one of the founders

♔Blurb:

→ My family began without any official titles besides my father's reputation as a businessman and banker. While our region is controlled by the Ottoman Empire, he always stayed proud of our “true Macedonian blood” and often spoke of how wonderful it would be to pull out of the Turk's control. I was the older of two children in the family. My brother was born seven years after me – and I suspect after several miscarriages in the space between. My mother never did speak much of that, but we were all subtly aware.

Mother died of an illness when I was ten, my brother not quite three. Her death started a change in the family dynamics. I took on any caretaking for my brother that nannies or governesses didn't provide, while Father handled the loss with alcohol and an increase in his nationalistic pride. While he ensured we had full educations, his attentions often seemed elsewhere. When I was around twenty-one, I was courted by and became engaged to a local banker's son. Our engagement ended in a miscarriage on my part. Maybe he saw it as an escape from a tainted woman, or maybe he got wind of my mother's pregnancy struggles - either way, my fiance broke the engagement, and I was once more left with my father and his ever-revolutionary thoughts. The final break came just this year, in 1893. A group of mostly Bulgarian influence started the Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organization. My father volunteered himself and much of his wealth to the cause, serving as one of the true Macedonian blooded members vying for freedom from the Ottoman Empire. He saw the marriages as a way to ally his cause with other, more legitimate countries, to garner support and publicize our “plight” to the rest of the world. Considering the potential reputation disaster my engagement scenario could have created, I was in no place to argue.

♔Face Claim:

→ Mayumi Nishikino

♔Played By:

→ Lady Lagomorph

[Lady Lagomorph]

♔Full Name:

→ Ilina Marija Mitreski

♔Nickname:

→ Illie or Lina

♔Age:

→ • 24

♔Country of Origin:

→ Macedonia (part of the Ottoman Empire)

♔Aristocratic Title:

→ Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organization – daughter of one of the founders

♔Height:

→ Five feet, four inches

♔Weight/Build

→ One hundred twenty-five pounds: Top-heavy with more weight in her bust and thighs

♔Eye Color:

→ Green

♔Hair Color:

→ Brown

♔Complexion:

→ Tan skin that grows darker easily from sun exposure

♔Other Markings:

→ Occasional moles scattered across her, some on back/arms, one or two on legs

♔Personality:

→ Outwardly reserved
→ Observant
→ Structured
→ Self-motivated
→ Leader
→ Methodical
→ Curious
→ Mischievous

♔History:

→ Ilina was born to a wealthy Macedonian businessman/banker who was proud of culture and spoke of desire to break free from Ottoman Empire. She was mostly a well-behaved child, though she had a quiet knack for mischief and sneaking into places where she was not supposed to be. While not openly made aware of most of them, she suspected her mother had one one or two miscarriages before her birth, and multiple while she was young. She finally gained a sibling when she was seven, and her younger brother was born. Unfortunately, their mother did not live long enough for him to form more than faint memories of her. She caught an illness one early spring and died when Ilina was ten. Her brother was not quite three at the time; she took over most mothering care for him that nannies/governesses didn't do. Their father took the loss of his wife hard and began drinking and slowly becoming more revolutionary in his thoughts of Macedonia's independence. Despite any of his habits, both the Mitreski children were raised with good educations and exposure to society.

At twenty-one, Ilina became engaged to a local banker's son. She became pregnant from her fiance while still engaged; the marriage plans were rushed ahead to cover it, until she had an early miscarriage. Whether avoiding the "tainted woman" Ilina feared she had become, or looking for a prospect with a higher change of birthing an heir, her fiance promptly reneged on his proposal and married another woman. The brief pregnancy was covered up on both sides to avoid scandal. While it was not public knowledge, the young woman considered herself tarnished and withdrew back into her family. Her father was becoming heavily revolutionary at this time; his health was also starting to decline due to his alcoholism, forcing Ilina and her brother to care for him on his worst days. In the months before the proposed arranged marriages, the Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organization in the Macedonian region. Lured by its ideals of an independent Macedonia, Ilina's father threw large amounts of support and money to help found it. He decided sending her for an international marriage would benefit the Macedonian cause, potentially garnering support and raising awareness of the "Macedonian plight." She agreed mostly out of guilt from nearlyruining the family reputation.

♔Likes:

→ Dancing
→ Exploring/learning the ins and outs of buildings/living spaces
→ Reading
→ Playing the Macedonian Tambura (stringed instrument) or Gajda/Gayda (bagpipe)
→ Good wine

♔Disikes:

→ Condescension
→ Lack of structure
→ Bland food
→ Feeling vulnerable
→ Snowstorms/sleet

[Lady Lagomorph]

Testing123heyo
"Talking"
'Thinking'


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tab tab tab tab Mood: Friends + pool? He's in a good mood.
tab tab tab tab Location: Hotel lobby | Hotel bedroom | At/in the pool
tab tab tab tab With: Niss | Faye, Sage, and everyone else at the pool
tab tab tab tab Talking to: Niss | Faye and Sage
tab tab tab tab Outfit: Festival Time!
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[Lady Lagomorph]

♔Full Name:

→ Gavril Petre Mitreski

♔Nickname:

→ Gav, or just Gavril

♔Age:

→ Seventeen

♔Country of Origin:

→ Macedonia

♔Aristocratic Title:

→ Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organization – son of one of the founders and brother of betrothed Macedonian rep.

♔Height:

→ Six feet even

♔Weight/Build

→ One hundred fifty-five pounds: lanky, but more muscle on his shoulders/chest

♔Eye Color:

→ Dark Brown

♔Hair Color:

→ Brown and wavy/curly

♔Complexion:

→ Tan, slightly more so than his sister

♔Other Markings:

→ Scratch-like scars on his hands and lower arms

♔Personality:

• Inquisitive
• Positive
• Emotional
• Outgoing
• Candid
• Energetic
• Quick learner

♔History:

→ Gavril was born when his sister was seven, after several suspected miscarriages. The family was ecstatic to have another child: infant Gavril was doted on. His mother died just before he turned three, so he had very few memories of her. He's not even sure if those he has are truly his or created from the stories he heard of her growing up. His seven-year old sister took on much of the responsibility of raising him,
at least when nannies or governesses were not. They grew up very close to each other, but their relationship wavered between siblings and occasionally that of a mother/son. Gavril was usually an accomplice on any of the times his older sister was up for mischief, and sometimes his own energetic will caused his sibling frustration instead. Both of them received good educations, and Gavril found himself enjoying the outdoors as well. He picked up archery from some friends of his. His father used to keep birds of prey in a separate section in back of the horse stables, though there were no birds left alive by the time he was a schoolboy. The empty space and brief memories of his father's birds sparked what became an interest in falconry. While he was more interested for the fun of it than the actual hunting aspects, it wasn't uncommon for meals served in the house to be something his bird caught.

A quick learner, Gavril was able to take over more of his father's business as he grew into his teens, with Ilina helping from the sidelines. He was aware and slightly involved in his father's growing interest of an independent Macedonia - he'd grown up with his family's stories of poor treatment by the Turks and seen some bias and condescension from them first-hand. However, his opinions were never quite as radical as his father's, and he wasn't sure if the aggressive methods promoted by the new IMRO were the best. Still, he was involved in it regardless. Gavril was not happy with his father's decision to marry off Ilina for political connections - they were a business family, not royalty - but his sister would not refuse the decision. He had hoped to accompany her to the initial days there, until a sudden worsening of his father's health forced him to stay home and seek out care for their ailing parent. He used the extra time at home to brush up on his languages in anticipation for actually arriving. As young as he was, he had to make a decent impression somehow.

♔Likes:

→ • New, interesting things
• Good moods
• Falconry
• Archery
• His family
• His golden eagle Marija
• Singing
• Dogs

♔Disikes:

→ • Being treated like a child
• This arranged marriage deal
• Ilina sticking to her stoic guns when he thinks she should complain instead
• Guns, while he's mentioning them
• Beer
• Spiders

[Lady Lagomorph]

Ilina potential outfits

Tan dress

Similar to her masquerade dress
Lacy and a bit ahead of times
TOTALLY AHEAD OF ITS TIME AND I DON'T CARE
Fanceh lacy thing
Pretty shoulder cape
Pretty blue gownDragonfly Dress
Blue Riding Jacket
Macedonian Belt BucklesAnother Macedonian belt buckle
Bulgarian hair ornament
Purplish cape
Simple Gibson Girl style dress
Eggplanty-maroon Gibson type gown
Linen and brown blouse and skirt
Another lacy venture
Peacock colors
Romantic kinda red
Oh look a Russian court outfit
IDK about this?
1920s cape

------------
GAVRIL
Coat

Festival Outfit
Is this men's Disney?
Le thunderstorm outfit



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Devnet

First outfit
Day at the lake (I swear those pants are old, not deisgner)

Click-Clack

Medieval animu outfits
Tunics1
Tunics 2
RIght hand side is nice
BA but not too complicated
Lmao it's Link
Fanceh
BLACK VELVET AND THAT SLOW SOUTHERN STYLE
FASHION emotion_awesome
More Link
Cool vest
Cool vest 2
black ensemble
Vest 3 so nice
Not for girls I swear
Get ur larp on
It's purple

[Lady Lagomorph]

Testing 1 2 3
"TESTING"



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tab tab tab tab Mood: Trying to comfort/calm down Pascale
tab tab tab tab Location: In the stables
tab tab tab tab With: Pascale
tab tab tab tab Talking to: Pascale
tab tab tab tab Outfit: Victorian + Macedonian
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[Lady Lagomorph]

♔Full Name:

→ Devnet (originally Damhnait) O'Bryne

♔Nickname:

→ Dev or Dammit

♔Age:

→ • 26

♔Country of Origin:

→ Ireland

♔Aristocratic Title:

→ Go-between/Gofer for the Conclave and the engaged couples' villas

♔Height:

→ Five feet, ten inches

♔Weight/Build

→ 160 lb. - Laborer's build under his clothes, with calloused hands and very calloused feet

♔Eye Color:

→ Yellowish-green

♔Hair Color:

→ Dull black

♔Complexion:

→ Pale-ish, but tans quickly due to his travel-filled life

♔Other Markings:

→ Each of his numerous scars tells a story - as do the crooked shapes on his nose and left pinkie/ring fingers

♔Personality:

→ • Upbeat
• Extraverted
• Quick-witted
• Eager to give advice (even when not qualified to do so)
• Takes life .05% seriously
• Avid storyteller/listener
• Smartass
• Experienced
• Blunt
• Selfish
• Food hoarder

♔History:

Devnet, originally spelled Damhnait in the traditional way, was born in Ireland to a fairly large and poor family on a tenant farm. He was the second-youngest of five children, four of which survived to adulthood. The kids of the family started working as soon as they were able. Education wasn't broadly available in their area, but Damhnait taught himself more reading and writing than most by stealingborrowing some books from a richer's kids' house. While the family was able to take a loan to eventually purchase the land they lived on, it left them heavily in debt and with terms lasting more than a generation. Damhnait never felt he was meant for the farming life, and he set off around the country working labor jobs in his mid-to-late teens. He always sent some money back to the family, but keeping enough to support himself and his precarious lifestyle required much of what he made. He started discovering that any locations that spoke English started pronouncing his name as "Dammit." That didn't help his work options. Anglicizing his name to Devnet improved things slightly in the right locations. By the time he was twenty, his list of past employments was over a dozen, and he'd taken a boat to the continent to try his luck on the rest of Europe. He started picking up languages and anything else he could learn by word of mouth to make himself more hirable. Somewhere along the way, he also picked up a six-shot revolver and learned how to shoot it - damn well, if he does say so himself.

Two or three years back, he came across one of his old Irish drinking buddies, also abroad in search of work. The man was a radical when it came to the concept of an independent Ireland, and his drunken stupor accidentally let slip details regarding a Conclave, which was also bolstering up other countries against Great Britain. Apparently they needed some trustworthy help that wouldn't mind living a lie or two in the process. Devnet was neutral about all the political jargon, but he knew opportunity when he saw it. He managed to work his way into and up the Conclave's ranks until he was made a sort of unofficial gofer for the planned arranged marriages. Most days were spent traveling between the nearby village, where he lived, and the villas where the engaged couples resided, supposedly to ensure none in the party outright killed each other or performed other unforgivable acts and passing any messages that may need taken on the way. He was on his feet a lot, which was nothing new to him, but it paid so far better than any other job he'd held. The only issue was that he couldn't send all the extra he was making back home, or the sudden increase would be suspicious. In his letters home, he claimed he had made a fairly common decision for young Irishmen needing employment and sought it in the United States. That concept came complete with a full-on backstory and contacts provided by the Conclave, to cover their tracks. In reality, they were shipping his letters to a member living stateside, then to his parents, to match the postage. Once he started including in his letters exactly how much money he was sending, not too much of it disappeared in transit. What he didn't mail home was slowly stockpiled for himself.

♔Likes:

→ • Good times
• Socializing
• Money
• The six-shot revolver always found around his hip
• Fruit (particularly citrus)
• Free stuff
• Giving random advice
• A good story
• Bars and barroom brawls

♔Disikes:

→ • Being serious
• Snobbery
• Being forced to sit still
• Being too polite
• Actually having to show deference to someone

[Lady Lagomorph]

Glancing skyward to examine the clouds, Devnet received an eyeful of water. That had been the general weather the entire day: gray and wet. Only his second day taking the route to and from the villas, and already Mother Nature was trying to make it a tough job. “The joke's on you, old girl,” he responded with a crooked smile to the drizzling sky, brogue only slightly dulled by six years outside Ireland. Today's steady rain wasn't exactly his first time exposed to the elements. “This doesn't hold a candle to the worst days. You ought to know.”

Devnet's job before this had been less directly involved in the intermarriages. As an underling for the Conclave the last couple years, he lived at the beck and call of his higher ups. When they found out he once lived in the town closest to their villas, they sent him a month or so ahead of the couples' arrival. Devnet kept track of the villas' preparations, ran errands and inquiries for the decision-makers, and passed along an important note or two. He'd been around the town, around the Conclave, just always in the background. There was a lot of legwork, a lot of backsides wanting kissed, but running circles around town beat manual labor or no work at all. And it paid so damn well. He was sending money back to his parents and still had spare to shove aside as savings. Savings: he liked that word a lot.

Being back in the little Slovanian town was a welcome change, too. He'd wandered into it like a ragged stray during his pre-Conclave days, stuck in a long rut of no work and even less money. The old alehouse in town had been in need of repair that they were willing to pay for. He'd worked there, in addition to other odd jobs, and made friends in the quaint little community over those several months. But time marched on. Outdoor work closed up as winter approached, and he had been forced to keep moving. One last evening at the bar, an attempt to teach his local friends the chorus to The Parting Glass (he fondly recalled Slovanian dialects butchering the lyrics), and he was gone the next morning by daybreak. He'd never made any hints of coming back, never expected to be within a hundred miles ever again. He got busy adjusting to his new job this time around, rekindling old friendships, visiting familiar haunts, and even meeting new aquaintances once the Conclave's couples arrived.

Top of the old friend list was Anezka, who still worked in the bar that had been his old haunt. 'And still too nice to be a barmaid,' he determined quickly. He was sure patrons took advantage of that, and Devnet felt spoiled to death every time she would slide him a free drink or even make him meals. Those weren't even part of her bar roles; they were all just Nezzie. Sometimes he wondered why no one had simply scooped up the sweetheart and carried her away yet. On the new friend roster was a woman named Fi from the Conclave's engaged victims. 'Finnish upperclass, my arse,' was his initial impression, but if the Conclave wasn't saying anything about the wool obviously hovering over their eyes, he sure as hell wasn't. Fi made a good bar buddy, and watching her drink men under the table was too entertaining to miss. He'd been a willing victim once himself, just for the experience; it was worth the hangover. There was another member of the engagement from Romania that Devnet had come across drinking, too. Damian was engaged to Fi, in fact, but he never saw the two at the same time. The Romanian's morals were....questionable at times, even by Devnet's standards, but the older man had some (mostly explicit) tales of previous adventures that were just too good to pass up. Devnet could rarely resist a good story. Last, but not least, on the new friend list was Solomon, undoubtedly a bad influence that was usually too much fun to pass up. Yep, Devnet had to admit that his life had hit a comfortable groove.

That altered after the festival fiasco. Nevermind one of the couples vanishing with only a brief note about an elopment. That came with its own complications, but at least it meant an early victory for Switzerland and Italy. Something at the intercultural event went terribly wrong, and one of the fiances disappeared for an entire week while the Conclave's masterminds lost their wits. With their great push to give the couples privacy, they had given up their ability to keep tabs. What if this defect was only the beginning? In the end, the Conclave decided someone should probably check on the villas once in a while, to make sure things were running smoothly and prevent hiccups that might be solved by a simple trading of grievances. Of course, none of the decision makers felt like that much traveling, so their green-eyed gofer was picked in the end. 'And they didn't even give me a horse.' At least he was able to negotiate an increase in his payroll, to offset the extra wear. His clothes were only a year or so old, brand new by his standards. Had he ever had an outfit before not patched together or hand-me-down? If they wanted him to wear out his limited shoes and clothes in poor weather, they were going to pay for it.

And about that weather...for all purposes, he should have been on his way back to town hours ago, but he'd been slowed down. Officially, he was supposed to pass needs and grievances of the couples along, but the maids and servents decided to skip the rainy day out and shove any of their own lists at him, too. Villa One was given the wrong washing powder, which had turned a couple outfits brown. Villa Two had a horrendous wind whistling in the roof. Et cetera, et cetera. Devnet hoped the long delay would give the storms time to break before his trek home. His attention turned to a sharp crack of thunder in the distance instead, out of the west and close. “Aw, damn. Good play.” Mother Nature was taking his sass seriously.

Within ten minutes, he could barely see in front of him for the rain. The man's ubiquotous wool cap did only marginal good on his head, as pelting gusts of the storm drove sideways to batter his face. Devnet stood soaked and half-deaf in the combined fury of water, wind, and lightning. Now what to do? Trudging back to town in this was a fool's errand, and he coudn't just stand here and drown. Asking to be let into the couples' villas was probably a faux pas of grand proportions for his first week, too. The only other options were the stables – too far away – and the stablehand's house nearby. He didn't know Pascale particularly well, only an occasional run-in conversation, but he'd been given the impression that the working girl's home was a popular hangout. She was technically even sharing it, besides. Maybe they wouldn't mind an additional butt in a chair til the weather calmed. What should have been a minute-long walk to the door felt more like five fighting the weather. As soon as the roof's overhang gave him a few inches of mercy, he gathered himself and shook off whatever water was loose enough to be thrown. He pounded on the wooden door and gave the storm one more glance before the entry cracked open. “Throw whatever summer fit you want; it's still no winter in Hamburg.”

He was expecting Pascale or her housemate to answer the door. So, he was caught off-guard to find a more familiar face on the other side instead. “Nez?” His head tilted in confusion, then slid into a pleased grin despite his drenched condition. “Nezzie! Well, there's a surprise!” Things were looking better already. And if she was here, he felt less guilty about worming his way out of the rain. “Would you mind letting me in? I'm supposed to be back in town, but it's miserable out here. Thought I might beg some shelter from the residents before I wash away.”


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tab tab tab tab Mood: Sassing Mother Nature/Pleasantly surprised
tab tab tab tab Location: Outside the DragonScale house
tab tab tab tab With: All by himself/Anezka at the door
tab tab tab tab Talking to: Mother Nature | Anezka
tab tab tab tab Outfit: Really close to his faceclaim
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[Lady Lagomorph]

Normaltest

"Talking"


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tab tab tab tab Mood: ????
tab tab tab tab Location: ????
tab tab tab tab With: ???
tab tab tab tab Talking to: ????
tab tab tab tab Outfit: Really close to his faceclaim
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[Lady Lagomorph]

At the end of things, it turned out neither Ilina or Zakhar knew a bit about boating. After the pair wobbled onto the floating transport, Zakhar gave his best effort to row them out to the lake's center, as per the festival's plan. It was slow going. Having no advice or anything to provide for the situation, Ilina just focused on keeping upright in the boat and not thinking about every time it wobbled or rocked. She couldn't entirely complain about the slow pace. Slow and easy meant managed to keep her composure coasting across the water in the growing dark. Her mind was still reeling internally, wondering how Gavril was faring with Pascale and Elise, and what exactly had happened between her younger brother and the unconscious Estonian. By the time the boat coasted in to join the other couples', most participants were already in the process of their own lantern lighting.

She'd intended to let Zakhar light the majority of their lanterns, as a thanks for the dance earlier and helping keep things moving after the Elise incident. She was more interested in watching the them once they were floating, so she wouldn't mind. “It's probably the closest someone can come to touching a star, right?” she'd offered. However, he was of the same opinion in regards to watching vs. lighting, and he'd given a brief missed-the-point explanation in broken English on the differences between small lantern fire and an actual star. Her brows had arched up by the time the statement completed. “Well.” They eventually split the lighting more or less evenly. Watching the glowing finished products drift up to join the others hovering over the water did make a pretty spectacle, once everything was said and done. And peaceful.

After sitting on the lake's surface so long, she was feeling a little braver about the boat situation and asked if she could try rowing on the way back. After all, when else would she get a similar chance to try something like it? She sat herself in the spot between the oars, asked Zakhar, “Любой совет?” and given it her best shot. 'Ack.' The weight of pulling against the water's tension came as a shock. The low grunts she gave as she tried to get herself into a rhythm (and not steer them in circles) were decidedly unlady-like, but eventually she got the hang of it. The tiring, struggling hang of it, but they were moving forward eventually. 'Проклето. Was the lake always this wide across?' She paused from rowing 2/3 of the way back. She needed a break. Her shoulder muscles ached, and her arms felt limp and weak from the physical effort. The lake's edge was visible, not too far off, and she peered through the dark at it thoughts about the chaos following the festival came back. She was pretty happy with how she had handled things, all things considered. Watching Gavril take off to care for the fainted Elise, her own need to keep everything moving once the chaos of that settled in, actually braving this whole boating thing... she'd kept her calm up to this point. But something occurred to her as she watched the lakeside, exhausted and knowing at some point she had to restart and fumbling their way back to it. A low chuckle started in her throat, then grew until it shook her shoulders. 'This is ridiculous. All so ridiculous.' She had to bend over as the laughter took over. “All this planning,” she finally mumbled in English through the laughter, not even caring how much was understood or lost in translation. “All this planning, with homes, and festivals, and lanterns, and no one in the Conclave asked, 'Can anyone row a boat?'” She covered her mouth to restrain the tear-inducing chuckles as the day's strain finally released. “We could drift to the other side of the lake: goodbye, gone! With no one checking. We could be too tired and be stuck here all night.” They were already close to that point, anyway. Zakhar offered something about swimming to shore to get a rope if needed, and she waved off the suggestion with her free hand. “Oh, no!” She wasn't volunteering to be left alone on this drowning device, even if it was an attempt to help. Once she regained her composure, she gathered up the remainder of her upper body strength and completed the task of getting them back to land. It took too long, but they made it.

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The power of time skip compels you
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Maybe vanishing in the horizons of the lake didn't happen, but the following day did indeed bring some disappearances. Lorna and Emon were gone, a note left on their villa door about eloping early. Tiitus was gone, too, only without a word and definitely without his fiancee. Ilina had her own reservations about the man dumping his ill sister and taking off without a word just becausehe was frustrated – she'd assumed when he stormed off that that he was heading back to check on Elise – but she mostly kept those opinions to herself. She received little more information from Gavril after managing to corner him. He kept explanations vague on purpose and buttoned up entirely when asked if he and Elise were actually in any sort of relationship. And then, there was the Pascale thing. The only part Gavril had been more open about was how big of a help Pascale had been, and how unexpected his skills helping around the house were. “Are you joking, or distracted?” A confused look came over Gavril's face as he returned her stare. “Pascale's a girl. You know that.” Her brother's face went white, and he seemed only halfway conscious the rest of the conversation. 'Had he actually thought Pascale was a boy?' Considering the look on his face... She decided not to push the subject once he got that startled deer stare. She had to ask enough favors from him, anyway; she and Zakhar were both suffering from exhausted arms after the previous night's boating. She'd been making jokes all morning about learning to function with her feet. In lieu of demanding more answers from Gavril, she roped him into assisting with small things her own weary arms didn't want to do.

Later in the week, she took a break from the villas to sneak a day trip into town with Pascale and Fi. The stablehand was actually able to dress more feminine for the outing, Ilina noticed. The day in town ended with a few drinks at a bar tended by Pascale's friend Anezka. The “ew drinks” were apparently a few too many for Pascale. The French girl ended the day unsteady and more talkative than she probably intended to be. Somewhere in the conversation, she ended up confessing to Ilina that she had feelings for Gavril. Ilina's response had been cautious, but not a complete denial. Really, her heart went out to the stablehand. She was a sweet girl, dedicated and honest. But she was also several years older than Gavril, an age difference society usually preferred to be the other gender around when it happened. Then there was the obvious different in social station, not to mention Ilina's uncertainty on Gavril and Elise's relationship. In the end, she hadn't completely deterred Pascale as might have been appropriate, but she had encouraged caution. No one could stop another person from catching feelings, but Ilina's own advice was to try not to get carried away by them. At the end of the evening, she helped Fi drop off Pascale at the cottage shared with Dragan, wondering how much of the conversation Pascale would even remember the next day.

Ilina had spent the day of the storm inside. She didn't feel like venturing out into the steady rain that pattered on the windows as soon as the sun rose, and there were always things to do indoors. Her tambura had been slightly neglected since the festival, so she took the time to practice old songs and fiddle with a few new. There were correspondences to write, as well. At the end of the evening, she had slipped onto the couch for some reading before bed. Outside came a loud growl of thunder. Her head perked up to glance out the window, then returned to her book. There was a second rumble. A third came, but it wasn't from outside; this thundering was the familiar sound of Gavril bounding down the back steps of the home. He flashed past the entryway, and Ilina heard the sound of the front door opening, letting in the sound of deafening rain outside. 'He can't possibly think he's going to--' Her brother dashed back again the other way, without fully shutting the door, and Ilina became suspicious. She put her book down and was there at the entry when he returned tugging on his travel coat. “Gav, what do you think you're doing?”

Gavril barely paused to look at her, not reflecting any of the concern that was growing in his sister's face. “I have to go check on Marija.” Ilina's arms crossed tightly. “Don't be ridiculous. It's pouring out there, and look at the lightning.” A bolt flashed as if to emphasize her point. Gavril just shrugged. “I will go fast. The lightning has better targets.” Ilina could feel frustration getting the better of her and moved to block the door with her arm, but her brother ducked past before she completed the motion, bolting into the blinding rain. “Gavril! You're going to get yourself killed!” He turned to face her again, examining her briefly. Gavril's arms extended out from his sides to display his outfit. “I have my coat, and it isn't even cold outside. It's not the same. I will be fine.” A new flash lit up his face as he grinned and ran off, and Ilina stopped only a couple strides into following them. She saw that same smile on a woman's face, surrounded by cold rain and sleet. A young boy with curly brown hair played around her legs. “Our children are strong,” she told their father, half-lifting the boy by his arms as if to show him off. “This weather will not hurt them. They will be fine.”

Ilina came to as the wind blew some of the driving rain into her face. Her brother was long gone in the dark, and she ducked back under the doorway to avoid getting soaked for no reason. “По ѓаволите.” She raked one hand through her hair and shook her head. “По ѓаволите. Тој е ист. Токму истото. Тој никогаш нема да научи. Тој ќе се убие. Еден од овие денови, тој само ќе се убие.” She shoved the front door closed and headed to the closet that kept the coats. Her hand went halfway to her own coat, hanging beside Gavril's empty hanger, then stopped. Maybe she shouldn't chase after him. At this point, he was probably halfway to the stables: if he could even see well enough to make it there. Hunting him down and dragging him all the way back to the house...that sort of defeated the purpose.



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tab tab tab tab Mood: On edge/worried/frustrated
tab tab tab tab Location: Russian/Macedonian villa
tab tab tab tab With: Temporarily Gavril, then nothin' but the closet and coats
tab tab tab tab Talking to: Gavril
tab tab tab tab Outfit: SImple
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[Lady Lagomorph]

“Christ, I swear I'm trying to get her to stop that.”

For the fifth or sixth time, Anandi had called Rylen “Mommy,” to her face, in front of Maddox. It was a recent development from calling the two of them “Daddy” and “Mommy” only around him. Fortunately, Rylen seemed to find it amusing. He was pretty sure the First General didn't realize that the child 100% meant the terms and wasn't just using them as a show of fondness. Every time he tried to correct it, Anandi simply looked at him; he'd venture to say the look was a tad smug. With the jackalope settled in and overcoming most signs of trauma from the Slums fire, Maddox had finally relented and let Rylen begin training her. So long as Anandi wasn't terrified, he didn't see the harm in giving the kid some ways to defend herself and get braver. And if she was growing this bold around Rylen, perhaps it was a sign of success... only not in a way he had figured.

Most other things in his life were a slow and steady progression. His role in the medical wing had become a very routine-like job. He'd even managed to get better self-control when it came to his ability. Maddox would never have predicted when they first wound up here that he would somehow find himself quite... competent? Had he ever used that word for anything before? It had been a couple weeks since he worked himself to near-passed-out, and he was doing that less and less often.

The medical wing did require a lot of hours, which dug into his free time, and he spent much of that in the room they had set aside for his woodworking. If he needed a low-pressure break from his new lifestyle, he sought out Vanya for some chill hangout time, or Rylen for some new shenanigans, or Marquise if the man was actually out and unaccompanied. Vanya took some offense to the infrequency of it, invading his workshop when she was bored. Her lying cat-style over his projects and pestering until he gave up and spent time with her probably kept him from being a workaholic. There was enough serious s**t happening around them. If there was something he really didn't want to become, it was dull.

------

Nothing could have prepared him for the news regarding Kai. Nothing could have prepared any of them. He never kept good tabs on much of the politics happening – it wasn't his job or specialty – but he'd assumed things were better guarded than whatever mess had led to this. The entire castle fell into mourning, himself included. While Maddox was not anywhere near the oldest acquaintance of Chancellor, Kai had been the first person to attempt any sort of friendship, and the unexpected fondness the rest of the Lapis family had taken to him meant he was all the more involved in the aftermath. Maddox wasn't sure if he fell more onto the side of Kai's father's sullen sadness or his mother's desire for vengeance. Up until now, most of his exposure to the threat of Minhires had been secondhand at best: limited mainly to hearsay, updates on new conflicts, or the rare instances like Lonan's poisoning where he handled the aftermath. Now, the reality of it had been forced by the emotional gap left around the castle, and the increased tensions of its political implications. For his part, the redhead's emotions stayed mostly bottled up and unmentioned. Never very skilled at expressing himself productively, this new wrench in the metaphorical gears did not improve things. Mostly, his grief and concern on the Chancellor's abduction only showed in occasional antsy moments, discomfort at times when he had an odd question about castle life that the Chancellor could have answered without drama, and the signs of internal turmoil in situations where he knew Kai would typically be present.

The only public break he experienced was during a conversation where people were sharing fond memories of the Chancellor. One mentioned his desire to protect his loved ones from the risks of his basilisk form, and how Kai would choose to sun himself somewhere secluded like the gardens instead of more common areas of the castle. The gardens? Maddox couldn't help but recall a specific snake he had healed a few times when he was first testing (and hiding) his new abilities. Kai had never mentioned anything about that, ever, but come to think of it, Maddox had never seen his Therian form in person.

Had that...had that really...

The conversation was soft and quiet, so he hoped he kept his gritted-teeth “Sonofab***h!” quiet enough to blend into the background. Perhaps if someone heard it, they mistook it for him restraining a tearful outburst.

The debacle also meant that Rylen's time was more usurped in her military work. The First General hunted him down for shenanigans less and less often, leaving the fun-seeking duties up to him instead. Perhaps he should have taken a page from Vanya's book and lounged himself across her desk when he was bored. Actually, that wasn't a terrible idea, though how much free time Rylen actually had was currently not up to her. The entire capital seemed as high stress as possible. He wasn't sure what could tense it up more, besides a more outright and direct attack on the country.


------

His hand pulled too early from its healing job. Sasha may not have noticed – there were merely superficial rough spots on the skin left, at this stage, but his hand removed regardless and locked frozen mid-air.

'What the hell?'

Patching up his longtime friend after her training sessions was nothing new. Small scrapes and bruises were very little work to him nowadays, and he was all for helping her improve her abilities – even if it was with the Royal Spy. He was still determining what he thought of the man – perhaps after the poison scenario, he didn't outright hate Lonan at this stage, but he couldn't really say he trusted the guy yet. But this?

While he wasn't actually skilled in the medical field, his power gave him a vague knowledge of what he was healing, when he was healing. Bruise? He could tell when it cleared. Deep wound? He knew when the internals stitched themselves back together. This time, this time something was off. Maddox might have sensed this once or twice during his time healing in the slums, but his ability had not been fine-tuned enough yet to understand it. He had figured the extra blips to be overthinking, or a heart murmer, or something along those lines. Now, he knew better. What he had just sensed with Sasha wasn't some heart anomaly. It was straight up two heartbeats.

His shocked pause broke when Sasha grabbed his hand. She stared intently at him, and he knew his own face looked wide-eyed and shocked.

"Maddy...? I'm scared."

"I'm late."

'******** s**t.' He made a dry gulp. “Uh, yeah, I think you are.” He let his mental gears turn for a few seconds. “Does...anyone else know that?”

The disclosure added one more concern to the many others hovering over the castle. While she had shown a firm attitude in scheduling herself with Kai's old responsibilities, who knew if she would be forced into more rest as she went. There was also the fact that the castle now had one more individual to worry over – even if it wasn't born yet – and the first actual offspring of one of the Sky People. For Maddox's part, his exposure to so many medical issues left his mind naturally turning towards that. If Sasha had any complications along the way, would his healing serve any purpose to help that? He had no idea, and frankly, he was praying they wouldn't need to learn the answer.


------



“What's up?”

Maddox wasn't too thrilled when a servant showed up in his workshop to interrupt him. It was still early in the morning, and he hoped to get a couple things done before they all left on their indefinite journey into the desert. The servant was insistent on him helping with a problem, back in the room he shared with Rylen. Entering the bedchamber, he noted more castle workers forming a small circle in one corner. Lying on the floor between them was the case with his clothing and other luggage for the trip. One servant approached the pack cautiously. A soft thump came from the luggage, and he watched her recoil, then look to him for how to proceed.

“Oh, ******** sake,” he mumbled under his breath, then raised it to make himself audible. “Move over. I'll deal with it.” He strode over to the case and looked for the telltale ball of fluff hunkered in it. One hand reached in, only to receive a defensive box from the tiny claws of two front feet. Anandi thumped a hind foot. “Hey! Cut it out: it's me!” She froze, blinked, then huddled tighter into the half-packed clothes.

“Oh, no you don't.” He dug both hands in this time, ignoring the boxing and picking the jackalope up under the armpits to yank her up. “Get out of there.”

Anandi grunted, kicking her back legs but finding they did no good mid-air. Then she shifted, tipping Maddox off-balance with her sudden full child's weight and landing on her backside on the clothes. “No!”

She was still in her crumpled bedclothes from the night before. 'Must've hopped straight out to throw her pissy fit.' “That's not gonna work, and you know it.” He hauled her out. “Keep this up, and I'll have Ry stop working with you. No more training.” She ignored the threat and flailed all the way to the nearest chair. Maddox attempted to plop her on the seat, but she writhed again and clung tight so she couldn't be dropped.

“No!

“Christ, what's your problem this morning? I don't have time for this. We've got to get on the road soon--”

“NO!” She gripped tighter, but her voice lowered after that final outburst. “Bad people,” she mumbled into his shirt. “Bad people.”

Maddox's brows pulled together. 'Is that what all this is about?' While the jackalope was still not much of a talker, those had been her exact words when she was first told about the trip. She may have been a kid from the Slums, but the reputation of Avierat's enemies carried even to the smallest of its people. Anandi wasn't happy to know most of the significant people in her new life were about to travel straight into Minhires. Every time the upcoming trek was mentioned since then, she had looked unhappy, but he hadn't noticed she was this concerned.

“Come on, we went over this.” He pried her fingers off and managed to get her to sit down. “The whole trip's planned out, remember? By the royal family and everything. It's just dumb politics stuff. We'll go on the trip, get it over with, and come back. Promise.” Anandi waited for him to add some uncertainty to that, but he would not. She didn't look convinced: more like she was resigning herself to becoming an orphan again. Pulling her face into a pout, she leapt from the seat and pushed past him without another word.

“Wait--! Well, ********] He couldn't think of anything convincing to shout after her. His last few sentences had felt enough like a lie. Maddox might not have been the sharpest nail in the toolbox all the time, but he wasn't buying into the idea that this trip was, in any way, safe. What the hell was even going to stop these Minhires folks from just killing them as soon as they arrived? The redhead could heal injuries, but only so many, and he definitely couldn't bring back someone who was dead. The whole thing felt like one hell of a dumb idea, but no one was asking his opinion on it. As for Anandi, she was probably poofed back into jackalope form to sulk somewhere hidden where he couldn't find her. Maddox let out a grumbling sigh and chose to go back to his workshop instead.

------

He was beyond ready for the trip to be over, and they were just arriving. Some of the people in the transport carried on light conversation. Some of them (mainly the princess) seemed eager to get to the next stage of it. The rest seemed more like him, uncertain and quiet. It wasn't usual for Maddox to be quiet, but his only thoughts right now were to complain about the heat (even the covered nature of their travel couldn't keep that out entirely) or make sure for the hundredth time that they were really doing this. Saaru made some comment on ripping off the foreign prince's gonads. The spy gave some warning about watching themselves. Sasha was asking the princess questions. Maddox had little productive to contribute. “God, I've done some dumb s**t, but this might be the dumbest thing I've ever done.” He only hoped all his medical wing experience would be enough to do any good, should it be needed.



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tab tab tab tab Mood: Anxious like just about everyone else
tab tab tab tab Location: Transport
tab tab tab tab With: Everybody and their mother
tab tab tab tab Talking to: N/A
tab tab tab tab Outfit: We can go with this
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