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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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 Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2024 11:07 am
Characters: Kieran, Oliver and Ophelia
Plot: After a disastrous first encounter, the duchess of light and her new friend get better acquainted over tea. Oliver is also there sometimes, for fun. What follows is a tale as old as time.
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Posted: Sun Sep 08, 2024 6:31 pm
   LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: No one...yet xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: Black Cathedral
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
It had been some evenings since the night of the explosion, and Kieran's mind was haunted by pitch-black apparitions whispering his failures in his ear. On that night his quarry had been stolen away from him, the scene he set up so delicately reduced to cinders as a few of the other students came in a flash burned everything away. And instead of being able to make those fools understand who they'd so rudely interrupted, he had instead been forced to contend with a man determined to win the Worst Brother Of The Year award. It was outrageous! It was unfair! Where did all of those arrogant little shits get off undermining the prince of darkness? Even worse, he was certain that now the silver-haired brute got the credit for harming that innocent tea drinker! It all drove Kieran insane.
But the past was dead, and he was still among the living. Tonight he'd simply begin to try again.
As per his ingenious stage direction, the pieces were already in place. Thanks to information from his wench on the inside, Kieran made sure to be more personable when spending his days on the campus. His only moments of reprieve had been with her and the mad princess, who to her credit seemed much more put together than she had been the last time they'd gotten to know each other. Well, as put together as an open box of marbles can be. Still, she seemed useful enough. Control of the black market had its benefits, and through Ms. Tonnerre he was able to acquire rather useful protections for his quarters. Combined with the use of his servants' watchful eyes, he had concocted quite the safety net for him to at least be able to unleash himself in his quarters. He'd planned his next performance well into advanced, and he needed the time to himself in order to prepare.
The next order of business was to secure his leading lady, which was easy enough. The poor deary felt horrible, thinking the prince of darkness had stuck his neck out for her safety. Then again, it wasn't entirely wrong; he had wanted to keep her to himself so that he could harm her. But since that night, more interesting prospects emerged. The woman showed bravery even in the face of quite the powerful enemy, and though she hadn't escaped that frightening encounter on her own she certainly knew how to play a splendidly defiant tune. Kieran wanted to know more of her now, what made her tick.
Getting the poor sap to agree to spending some time with him was easier still. He remembered the motions of his previous, feeble-minded self quite well, and regaled Ms. Akimi with stories of emotional turmoil. The bruises definitely helped sell his little story, and the guilt that Ms. Akimi felt towards his injuries only served to steer her further towards him. How unfortunate.
Running off of their goal of having tea that first night they met, Kieran offered Ms. Akimi a "rain check" on their tea time escapades while she was assisting in healing him from the damage he sustained while battling that silver-haired warmonger. He went on to assure her that he hadn't actually considered her "damaged goods". On the contrary, he thought her to be in rather pristine condition minus the defective eyes. But he kept that much to himself.
It was now opening night to his revised show, and Kieran reminded himself that he was ready for this. If he could not go about his usual methods of revelry, then fine; he'd simply find the sweetest souls this school had to offer and find ways to break them emotionally. Surely if Gwendolyn could begin her merriment he could do something to pass the time. Besides, this woman and her healing abilities could prove very useful to his plans. The ability to rejuvenate from harm surely was a crucial piece in the puzzle that was attaining eternal life. Ms. Akimi participating willingly for the sweet prince that defended her honor would be the easiest route, but Kieran wasn't exactly concerned if she would make things easier for him. Either way, he'd get a stellar performance from her.
His phantom tendrils swirled around him, gathering his clothing for him as he readied himself for the occasion. From his room to a nearby mess hall, a chain of servants had been placed that would facilitate the arrival of kettles, an assortment of teas both mundane and exotic in variety, and a plethora of snacks fit for a king...or in this case, prince. If the blackest sheep of Shahiti was going to find some form of enjoyment in tonight's festivities, he'd do so with only the finest props available to him.
The time in which he and Ms. Akimi had scheduled their little get together was soon approaching. With his final preparations completed, Kieran allowed the dark tendrils of his shadow to recede into obscurity. The woman had yet to see his abilities in action, and he wanted that to be a surprise. Standing before a dresser adorned with accents of the purest obsidian, he took one last look at the rings that bound him to both a pitiful past and a boundless future. They were placed together in a black box with twin slits for both of them to nestle into. He enjoyed looking at them from time to time, and experiencing the wide range of emotions they brought out from him. They were a reminder of the weakling doomed to suffer, but also of the man of the present who carried with him limitless potential. Potential that that Kieran Price would have most certainly squandered. But that man was dead now, along with his one true love. May they rest in peace.
Closing the box, he placed it into one of the dresser's drawers and finished adjusting his attire. Placing his eye patch on, a wicked grin grew wide on his face as he awaited the arrival of his newfound victim friend. Humming a tune to himself, he danced around in a final check of things before the main event began.
"Imagine me and you, I do...I think about you day and night, it's only riiiiight..."
OOC: Big thanks to Robin for the new layout!
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Sep 25, 2024 8:21 am
 LOCATION: Kitchen-- Kieran's room xxx COMPANY: Chef Suzen-- Kieran's door xxx CLOTHING: Tea Timexxx THEME: I wanna be somebody.
"I'm sorry Puddin. Another one of those self-righteous pricks Utopia likes to label as royalty cleared out the entire tea cabnet this morning!”
Ophelia’s eyes widened as she turned out of another cook's path. All too familiar with the buzzing activity in the kitchen by now to know that standing stagnant would only cause more problems for the staff than joining the bustling dance of busybodies. Shifting back to the brunette’s side, she didn’t try to hide the worry and confusion that etched onto her features. ”Really? All of it?” Suzen nodded defeatedly while wiping at the beads of sweat on her brow, leaving a pale trail of white powdered sugar streaked across her forehead. “And half the kitchen in side dishes, I might add. I don’t know what shindig they’re throwing, but they sure did a fine job of informing my kitchen in a timely manner.” Bitterness was an ugly shade coating Chef Suzen as she twisted to grab her most recent batch of beignets and move them onto a cart filled to the brim with fresh baked goods.
Slamming her hand onto a bell, her voice rang through the kitchen with a thundering boom. “ ORDER UP! Someone get these out of here so we can start lunch! And JULIAN, IF I GET ONE MORE REPORT ABOUT YOUR FINGERS IN THE ICING, I SWEAR I’LL CUT’EM OFF.” like a finely tuned machine, each cook straightened, voices ringing out like a battle cry. "Yes Chef!" Phi herself had never witnessed the battle on the war front, only the carnage resulting from it. But she imagined this is what a general leading an army would look and act like. Well... all except for Julian. Chef sure picked on the scrawny black-haired boy a lot for some reason. "Sorry Chef." The lengthy male tried to make himself as small as possible as he shuffled to their side and grabbed the cart.
Watching Julian quickly scurry past them, a grumble bubbled out of Ophelia's stomach as the sweet smell of treats wafted away. Leaving her to daydream over what that alluring cart filled with different-flavored cakes, biscuits, and freshly baked cookies piped with melting icing tasted like as it bolted out the double doors on its way to an unknown destination. Turning back to Suzen, she was surprised to see a plate hovering in front of her with one beignet tucked neatly in the center.
Phi eagerly moved to grab the treat, but the grunting breath of a nearby cook had her halting mid-reach. Yanking her back to that morning with her maiden’s grunting as they struggled to tighten her corset. A soft warning curled at the back of her mind. “A moment on the lips forever on the hips, my darling girl.” Like a broken record, her mother's high-strung voice filtered through on repeat. It wasn't reasonable to think coming to Utopia would free her of her mother's puppeteering strings, especially when each new letter read to her from home involved some question about her most recent measurements. At least it was tastefully disguised in a promise to send the newest Alorean fashion, but Phi had also tactfully ignored those responses out of fear for her mothers response to the unsavory numbers.
Tucking her hands back in front of her, she sighed. "Thank you, Suzen, but I really shouldn't. I just stopped in because I wanted to hand-pick a special brew for a friend." No matter how delectable the golden-lined pastry looked, it molded to the turmoil that spread through her stomach at the thought of having tea with no tea present. Especially when she owed so much to this new friendship she was attempting to harbor.
The naive part of her prayed that Syena hadn't turned his rage on the two men left behind since Clint aided her great escape.. But when the man drenched in shadow arrived at her door, battered and bruised, to apologize for something he hadn't even said about her—it was the storybook of her greatest fear coming to fruition. Luckily, Sir Price had been willing to let her heal him, but that wasn't enough to satiate the budding guilt inside the bright-eyed girl. No, Ophelia needed to make it up to him and return his kindness tenfold. So, it became a side quest for the duchess to help heal more than just his flesh. The cheat sheet Orby offered could only warn her of dark dealings hinting at someone needing more. Colors could only show her so much; to find the best course of action, she needed to know him. Which was what this tea was for. What it was supposed to be for.
A purely maniacal laugh erupted from the chef before her, yanking Phi from her thoughts as she watched the woman double over to cradle her stomach. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to pause at the unfamiliar sound, worried looks slipping from person to person as though she were a ticking time bomb. Then she was up, back pin straight as she slammed the plate she'd been holding onto the counter and yelled. " Back to work! Evon! Man my station I have something to do!" A shorter woman hurried over to take Suzen's spot as the cook turned on her slip-resistant heels and strode towards the pantry. "It's now or never Puddin, come to the pantry with me; I've been hard at work creating something just for you~" There was a light-hearted singsongy tone in the chef's words now, but the naughty color weaved into her aura didn't go unnoticed by the duchess.
Still, Phi was right on her heels, Orby floating about the dimly lit space of the damp pantry to help guide the sight-deprived girl directly to a cherrywood hutch tucked neatly in the corner. Suzen's hands wrapped around Ophelia's, leading her fingers to the small empty space behind it. When her pointer finger caught on a small key, Phi pulled it back, hardly inspecting its shape before eagerly unlocking the large cabinet before her. A gasp tore from the tea lover's throat as Orby illuminated row upon row of glittering glass jars filled to the brim with loose-leaf tea. "You did this?" The chef beside her beamed with pride. " It's all special teas from my kitchen. Are you questioning my outstanding generosity Puddin?" A laugh slipped from Ophelia's lips as she shook her head no, knowing better than to question a general in her own kitchen. "Now then, it's all yours. You know where the key is, so use it anytime you want. That way, you won't have to wait on shipments of tea bags every time some royal scoundrel decides to throw a last-minute tea party for their army."
The next thirty minutes were spent with Phi jumping between tea jars, locating each of her favorites first before dabbling in some newer ones she had never heard of. The duchess could have spent hours sampling each one, but she was on a time crunch. Meticulously selecting a few she knew had better qualities, she threw together her own special brew for the man who had taken so much for her. A few buds of Lavender and lemongrass for relaxation, green tea for functionality, and a dash of hibiscus to promote harmony between the budding friendship. The selfish part of her also loved the deep red color of hibiscus when steeped and hoped Mr. Price enjoyed the blend of sweet paired with the tart sensation that resulted from each sip. It was like she was a little witch creating a love potion—well, a friendship potion.
Reaching into the small cotton tote she'd lugged around all day, Phi pulled out a silver canister not much larger than her hand. Intricate honeycomb lines were etched into the metal, and each deep divot showed the canister's age by the tarnished lines that formed over years of use. But still, their bubbled edges shined where the constant friction of a tea-loving fanatic's hands had polished them into a vibrant gleam. Filling it with the personal blend, Phi smiled as she giddily locked up, hid the key, gathered her skirt, and bolted out of the pantry. Calling out over her shoulder in a dash of pink. “Thank you General Suzen!” As she broke through the double doors. Through their swinging, she could hear her chef. “Anytime pud- JULIAN, GET THIS MESS-”
Having visited Oliver once or twice in the past weeks, Ophelia found it easier to locate the men's hallway now. She even became so familiar with the motions that her fingers never reached to brush a doorway or count turns. Naturally, her footsteps slowed as she passed her golden prince's door, a soft grin curling across fully healed lips as though he would pop out to greet her with that dazzling smile. But that wasn't what she was here for, No, not to self-indulge in her giddy love story but to repay a debt and aid an actor in finding his color again. Whether he knew it or not. Snapping her thoughts back into the present, she turned her focus on a room tucked into the shadows at the furthest end of the winding hallway. The location was odd to Phi, as though it was the only room on this floor that the midday sunlight refused to grace.
Wringing her hands on the canister as she approached, Ophelia stared at the large black door encased in obsidian trim. Even now, the kaleidoscope of hues Orby produced was swallowed beneath the empty color before her, like a silent void that rang a slight warning in the back of her mind. "I'll swallow you whole." it seemed to warn.
Forcing down her worry, the dutchess uncurled her fingers and reached in, waiting until the chilled bite of marble pressed into the pads of her fingers to tap lightly. " Mr. Price? " Her words were barely more than a whisper, but the door swung open with such force one might have thought she had yelled. Doe-wide eyes shot up, locking onto the familiar silhouetted figure above her. The sunlight of an open window further in the room cast the man's features in shadows, but she knew it was him and not some butler by the golden halo of hair encasing him.
Offering a soft smile she could only assume painted his features as well, Ophelia curled her fingers around the canister, holding it to her chest as she prepared to make her first offer of friendship. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting. I wanted to hand pi-." But as she spoke, Mr.Price stepped to the side and swept out his arm, welcoming her in. Any words she had left died on her tongue at the unveiling of the lavish quarters beyond him. Usually, the shocking sight of this much onyx drenching every surface would convince this Alorean dutchess to turn on her heels and run. It should have been a blaring warning, that despite the colors that danced around the sweet man, he only seemed to trust one shade.
She might have even asked him about his obsession with the color, but the smell of an all-too-familiar lineup had her feet brushing past the threshold to get a closer look. Was Mr.Price the man who had become the bane of Chef Suzen's existence? He had to be; the same cakes, biscuits, and freshly sugar-coated beignets were displayed beautifully over a black lace-lined table just beyond. All of it nestled near a bubbling teapot at an intimate seating arrangement where row upon row of meticulously labeled tea options sat primed for making. Not one type was missing from what used to fill the overflowing tea cabinet in the kitchen. This had been far more than Ophelia was expecting; just who was this halo-hued hero? Had he really gone out of his way to request all this? For their small tea gathering? Red danced a line across her cheeks, suddenly embarrassed to have spent the time making him a personalized brew when he had gone so far as to prepare tea for an army.
Turning back to thank him, Ophelia finally took notice of Orby's hesitation just beyond the threshold. Reaching out for her companion, she-
SLAM
The almost violent sound sent a tremor through her that curled into something far worse as she felt her connection with the little orb of light coldly severed. Every sharp, defining line of the room blurred into muddled figures while the small black spots that always hid at the edge of her vision grew and warped to pull at the blissful clear spaces she had grown accustomed to. It was too late to contain the tremble in her outreached hand as she yanked it back to her chest, attempting to disguise the worry pulsing through her by running soothing circles over the well-traveled canister she had brought from home.
As if thoughts of home could somehow improve this development. Tangling her free hand into the white lace of her skirt, Ophelia shifted back toward the doorway with every intention of correcting the little mistake. But a gentle hand caught her shoulder, and the unmistakable smell of a leather-gloved hand tangled with the sweet aroma in the air as it urged her towards their seating. She wasn't ready to sit yet. But what excuse could she use to get the door open again? Painting a genuine smile confidently on her lips, she firmly planted her feet. Dragging her gaze up to place the blurred features of her blond friend between the annoying spots in her vision, she held out her canister and finally offered it to him.
" If I had known what all you had prepared this afternoon, Mr.Price, I would have saved the silly little gift I made for you for another day." She started confident...good. Hopefully, she could keep it going. " But it's truly one of a kind if you wouldn't mind trying it first..."
Ophelia's voice trailed as she sighed and made a little show of sweeping her eyes over the kettle nearby. "Oh, but I don't see any infusers for loose leaves. I have some beautiful ones in my room. Grabbing them wouldn't take more than a moment. I really think it'll be worth it." It wasn't a lie; she hadn't seen any infusers before her vision gave out.
OOC:
 
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Posted: Wed Oct 02, 2024 9:13 am
LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: Ophelia xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: We Don't Have To Dance
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
Tch, what could possibly be taking this woman so long? Do they not teach punctuality where she hails from?
The prince of darkness began to slowly pace around his room, unable to sit still with such maddening thoughts. He had put such time into making sure each piece of his intricate puzzle fell exactly into place as per his design. So why the ******** wasn't she here yet!? The darkness swirled around him, whipping about as it fumed along with him. Did the sun-fearing madwoman get lost? I suppose it wouldn't be outrageous, all things considered, but I had placed extra time than I normally would to account for her...issue. He hadn't gotten confirmation that the pink-haired damsel was from Alore, sure, but was it really much of a mystery? The poor Deary had that overgrow firefly following her around at all times, and given her last performance, it seemed as though the nightlife did much to make her any more powerful.
But the less he thought of the night of the explosion, the better. He was off to brighter pastures now, just hopefully not literally. Luckily, he kept his room more than dark enough to easily deal with that freakish little orb. And since his wounds were healed, he would not again have to see the woman's freakish glow that came when she used her "magic hands." The way she disgustingly brought such radiance through her fingers as she worked her putrid light magic-it was as if she were injuring him anew as she did it. Physical wounds were one thing, but to have the brilliance of the sun right in your singular working eye? It was a serious pain in the a**. His only solace at the time was that he'd soon get a chance to properly educate her on the futility of the light; for as long as there has been day, so too has come night. It was inescapable, and she too would be powerless to get away from him once she was in his clutches.
Then again, why would she even want to? He was giving her the opportunity of a lifetime: to be the lead in a once in a lifetime kind of production! Chances like that didn't come to just anyone, either. No, only the finest victims got to be attached to projects under his masterful leadership. So why was she acting like she had time to squander that? Could she not see that?
...Well, at least if this Prince of Darkness gig goes to s**t I'd probably make good money as a comedian.
Chuckling to himself, his pacing ceased for a moment. Letting himself get so worked up over a worthless insect like Ms. Akimi would only further the disservices done to his person today; he deserved better. The world owed him better, honestly. But the world couldn't be trusted to do right by him. Not anymore, anyway. Things such as faith and good fortune were ideologies purported by the weak to excuse the agency they failed to acquire for themselves in life. But he was no weakling. Only he could ensure that he was treated as he deserved to be; he knew that now more than ever.
Perhaps that weakness was the reason that Ms. Akimi was running behind schedule. While she'd proven herself to not be completely helpless during their last outing together, it did take her knight in shining cowboy hat to completely remove her from harm's way. As brave as she'd been to fight back against her aggressor, to show him that she wasn't some tool to be called upon whenever he needed her, it hadn't been enough. It rarely was with unreasonable monsters like the silver-haired brute. People like that man don't care about anything besides getting what they want, no matter the damage they leave in their wake, and there were so many like him out in the world. That's why one had to be better than them, to be able to beat them at their own game. To beat them so mercilessly that they knew their place from then on. It was a shame that Ms. Akimi was unlikely to attain such dominance over her own world, but on the other hand, who doesn't love a good tragedy?
There was an irony to having such an ideology, of course. People like Ms. Tonnerre, the type to stick their noses where they didn't belong, were chomping at the bit to weave such vicious tales about horrors they've only ever seen in their mind's eye to poke fun at his current state of mind. But even if they had been there, it wouldn't matter; he didn't care what lesser beings thought or understood. His understanding of the world was the only one that mattered to him now. The world was full of monsters, so he would aspire to be the most terrifying of them all. Once the issue of his mortality was dealt with, all would come to heel or otherwise be at his mercy. And unfortunately for them, mercy wasn't something he often considered.
" Mr. Price? "
Playing the part of mouse perfectly, it was only the tiniest squeak of her voice and the faintest tappity tap tap of her fingers that alerted Kieran to Ms. Akimi's presence just outside his door. Well it's about time. A wicked smile had naturally grown across his pale face, but he knew to reel it in. There would be time to indulge in the fruits of his labor soon enough; for now, he had an act to keep up. Putting on the cheery facade of the happy-go-lucky boy he once was, he swung the door wide open for an eagerly awaiting victim.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting. I wanted to hand pi-."
"Oh, think nothing of it! Now please, do come in. We wouldn't want the kettles to go cold as we just talked by the doorway."
For some reason, the little lady seemed ever so fixated on the sound of her own voice. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't the kindest stage director out there. Still, it wasn't as though he were being completely inhospitable; judging by the way her pale eyes widened upon witnessing the magnificence that was his quarters, he surmised that such beauty wasn't something Ms. Akimi was accustomed to. The look on her face was almost adorable...but it too bothered him. Waving her in, he turned his eye to the doorway and saw her little glowy friend show a moment of hesitation while the damsel stepped into his quarters.
Tsk, tsk. Better luck next time, Deary.
Giving the orb the same fake smile he was giving Ms. Akimi, he playfully stuck out his tongue before slamming the door shut and leaving it to rot. As the pink-haired damsel stepped further into her own demise, Kieran took in her features. Goodness, that dress is so...tacky. Poor Deary probably doesn't know better either; it's so unfortunate. I'll just have to bring more misfortune upon her so that the travesty that is her fashion sense is less noticeable. There was a certain beauty to her, though; the look on her face as her false courage dissolved into dread was ever the sight to behold. He'd have to get himself more of that at some point. For now, though, he was satisfied with simply getting to know her better today. After all, the better he knew her the better he could torture get a good performance out of her.
" If I had known what all you had prepared this afternoon, Mr.Price, I would have saved the silly little gift I made for you for another day. But it's truly one of a kind if you wouldn't mind trying it first..."
It became apparent to Kieran that getting ahead of herself was simply the mouse's base nature. I kind of knew I had my work cut out for me with this one, but it's like she's trying her absolute best to find new ways to be grating at every opportunity. Once again did she try to save face with a smile, pitifully attempting to act as if she weren't so woefully insecure right now. Was her pet really so important to her? The rose color that had once been painted across her cheeks had left her, with only a de-saturated shell of her natural tone remaining. The poor thing was rather tense, terrified even. It was exquisite.
"Oh, but I don't see any infusers for loose leaves. I have some beautiful ones in my room. Grabbing them wouldn't take more than a moment. I really think it'll be worth it."
With how weakly the poor thing spoke, he was worried she'd pass out from exhaustion if she strained herself any further. That would not do. Taking a step towards the damsel, he placed gentle hands on her shoulders to try and calm her nerves. Eyeing the various platters made for their little get-together, he noticed that infusers were indeed nowhere to be found. Then again, he hadn't expected the weirdo to go about making custom tea bags for the two of them. Would that really personalize the experience so much? The idea was so damn adorable that it made him want to puke. Instead, however, he held firm and continued with his facade.
"My, my, my. Ever the worrywart, aren't you Ms. Akimi? Fret not, my dear, this is what we have servants for. Please, do sit down."
Gesturing to a pair of chairs next to her, an initial assortment of kettles, teas, and snacks on a table between them, he hoped the damsel would stop being so annoying for one second and do as she was told. After all, her leaving now could bring...complications. Kieran acknowledged that he might've just gotten lucky when keeping Ms. Akimi's pet from bringing its hideous glow into his quarters and didn't want to risk potential contamination of his belongings if he didn't have to. Walking past her and back to the door, he allowed himself to drop his disgustingly sweet smile for a moment to knock on his door. Quickly enough, he heard footsteps. A voice from behind the door addressed him.
"How may I be of service, m'lord?"
"Be a dear and fetch us some 'tea diffusers', won't you? And do make haste; who knows what sort of mishaps this campus has for us today."
Turning back to his star-to-be, he walked back to the table and took a seat facing her. Crossing his legs, he brought his elbow to rest on his thigh as his hand traced his chin. Tap, tap, tap. Ever curiously did he look at her, his singular icy eye continuing to size her up. She was so...plain. So normal. So boring. He was beginning to wonder what exactly she'd done to garner such an interest in him. No, there'd been something there. Something about looking at the woman in front of him felt like he was staring down a distant memory. One of a man who was normal and the woman he was normal with. Yes, she did bear some resemblance to that life with the way that she acted. Oh, how naive she must be.
"So then, Ms. Akimi, since I have you here, I am most curious as to how your experience at this school has been so far. As I understand it, there has been quite a bit of turmoil since the very first class, and I believe you offer a...unique perspective on it all. "
Speaking coyly, he bent himself down a bit to reach out and grab a chocolate cupcake and place it on one of the empty, stacked dessert plates adorned on either side of the table. Taking a bite out of the delectable morsel, he smiled as he enjoyed the confection for all that it was worth. It was better than anything he'd had so far at the school, and you could just taste the desperation the nobodies who prepared his assortment of treats for the evening had while preparing all this for them. He'd given them a far shorter time frame than normal; in part to test their abilities but also just for fun. And snacking on the results now he had to say that he was quite impressed. As such, he'd have to give them even less time when he had use for their services next. As a treat.
"And please, do help yourself to as much as you'd like. After all, any friend of mine deserves the absolute best."
Friend was a much kinder term than how'd actually describe her relation to him, but honesty would not help him in a situation like this. As he smiled as if he cared, he knew that he'd have to at least attempt to match the sunshine and rainbows level of cheer she herself always used as a mask. Perhaps when this was over they'd take their masks off together. He imagined she wouldn't like what she saw once he took his off, but that was kind of the point. In that way, he really was quite excited; the table read had now begun.
OOC:
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2024 4:24 pm
LOCATION: Kieran's room xxx COMPANY: Kieran xxx CLOTHING: Tea Timexxx THEME: Be A Light.
At the sound of scuffing footsteps approaching, Ophelia knew her mission had failed. Her desperate little attempt to find a reason to yank that door open fell too flat.
"My, my, my. Ever the worrywart, aren't you Ms. Akimi? Fret not, my dear, this is what we have servants for. Please, do sit down."
“That is true, I suppose.” Ophelia's words were as soft as the calming defeat that washed over her; taking her seat, she leaned her elbows onto the table and laced her fingers beneath her chin to watch her hazy companion make his request through the door. Servants seemed to be a preferred method to the likes of Mr.Price, If this extravagant display told her anything. Well, she couldn't pin only him. Most royals liked to utilize the help when she put that much thought into it.
Things were different for the duchess, who refused all help unless it was to assist in taming the rat's nest her hair became when failing to let it dry properly. While being waited on hand and foot was usually the golden life for the elite, it was a blackened spot to Ophelia, who always had it done against her wishes. Without fail, Mother Akimi would hover nearby to nitpick and fuss over everything her blind daughter couldn't do with the proper grace and fluidity of a seeing person. The worst part was when she would scold the servants who dared to let her daughter try. Maybe that was when Phi had grown such a soft spot for the help; they were more human than her family had been. Than most of the elites ever were. At least the help could sense her needs and encouraged her to mess up, even if it was just to learn. Because of them, the duchess found joy in accomplishing small tasks, not just a sense of relief in their completion. Had the man taking his place across from her tried going twenty-four hours without a helping hand?
The heavy weight of a ghostly eye drew the duchess from her thoughts; realizing how improper her form had become, she straightened her spine, crossed her ankles, and placed her hands neatly in her lap. Slipping comfortably back into the smiling role of Alore duchess—just as she had been taught when under observation. Worry sat like a stone in her stomach, unsure what he could be looking so intently at. While understanding what he was thinking was far from her scope of abilities, what he was feeling at least gave her some insight. But with stress pin needling its way down her spine at the loss of Orby, she couldn't get a color on him.
"So then, Ms. Akimi, since I have you here, I am most curious as to how your experience at this school has been so far. As I understand it, there has been quite a bit of turmoil since the very first class, and I believe you offer a...unique perspective on it all. And please, do help yourself to as much as you'd like. After all, any friend of mine deserves the absolute best."
The stone crumbled away, forcing Ophelia to catch the giggle bubbling up her throat with her fingers. Unexpected relief swirled through her at his passing turn of phrase. 'Friend' was right where she longed to be, but his pointed terminology caught her off guard and wasn't lost to her. Grasping at the shared humor in their similar visual predicaments, she rebuttaled faster than the speed of light. " Even with my limited perspective on things, I can assure you, It's not wholly one-sighted." Sudden hesitation flashed through her eyes as the words slipped out, unable to stop the teasing response from riding the last of her amusement. If knocking words out of the air was possible, Ophelia would be swinging. But it wasn't, and Phi wondered if she had already been demoted from friendship levels. Not being able to gauge his emotional reaction was a problem; how did people do it? How did she used to do it when she was younger? Simply sit back, and hope the man sitting across from her could eat the same teasing he dished out? Though life stories as traumatic as hers was hardly a decent joking topic for tea time, It still had her hoping their friendship would nurture a connection comfortable enough to unveil both of their origins.
Quickly opting to move on, she diverted her gaze and reached to take what was offered for the second time today. Gingerly plucking a steaming beignet from one of the trays, she placed it neatly onto the center of her plate and returned her hand to run her fingers over the lineup of glittering jars beside it, selecting the darkest hue and hovering it beneath her nose." Before I share my opinions, I would like to address one topic of importance. Ms.Akimi, is my mother. Please, I prefer friends call me Ophelia when it's just us. Or Phi if you favor nicknames." Her nose crinkled With the tart smell of Cherry preserves... And maybe the mention of her mother.- No, no... it was definitely the cherry.. that would not pair well with the tea she had made them. Quickly placing the jar back, she moved to the next in search of honey. "Though, Lady Ophelia will do if you find more comfort in formalities, Mr. Price." She wouldn't call him anything else unless instructed otherwise, and with no colors to gauge his reactions, it was essential to offer an out. While calling her a friend was one thing, dropping the formal facade was another, and she didn't want to force anything on the evening-wrapped obscurity before her. Patience was a virtue in which the duchess was well versed, and she wanted nothing more than for this man to be comfortable in her presence.
The soft sound of a door clicking closed had Ophelia's head snapping to the side in a flurry of pink curls. The requested servant took shape as he timidly scurried closer to present a small silver platter. Hiding her frustration at Orby's failure to break the threshold for a second time, Phi's smile still managed to waver at the familiar sight of her personal golden star-shaped Tea-Infusers balancing on the tray.
"Tea Infusers, my lord and lady." With a bow, he tilted the trey to showcase his findings. Ophelia's mouth bobbed open to say thank you, but the words stayed settled on her tongue, her mind too busy whirling over the possibility of this servant rummaging through her room to find her Tea Infusers.
Weren't they tucked beneath the liftable top hatch on her desk? Getting to them required moving the meticulously placed stones she had yet to set for her newest suncatcher. This was another reason the duchess didn't favor the use of servants... She liked knowing things were left exactly where she put them. And While the thought was... appreciated? What if going to such lengths to find her items messed up the color order of her stones?
Well, there was little to gripe about now, and there was no point in arguing her discomfort when things so often never entirely panned out in her favor. Shaking the curls from her shoulders a tight smile found it's home on her lips as she reached for the trey. "These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them." Ophelia's determination was rooted in flipping the script; looking at the bright side of things was preferred. At least she had her favorite tea infusers and maybe she would like Mr.Price's servants' rendition of color theory better than her own. A fresh set of eyes could help her decide what order to put things in.
With a bow, Ophelia's open palms were brushed past as the servant placed the tray directly on the table and eyed her canister. " Please- allow me to prepare them." Phi's hand shot out, catching the mans wrist before his fingers could catch the lid. "No, thank you. I've got it from here." Even though she was not the one hosting their gathering, she had proposed the idea, so it was customary for her to prepare and pour the tea for Mr.Price. That and these specific Tea Infusers were very delicate.. and important to her. Phi's white knuckle grip didn't falter until the servant stepped back and excused himself.
Clearing her throat, the duchess stood, poured boiling water onto a small plate, and dabbed her hands into it. Once the sanitizing water painted her fingers with an irritated hue of pink, Phi dried her hands on a clean napkin and began skillfully filling each infuser with her personalized blend. " I must admit, even with the missteps I've faced since arriving on campus.-" She couldn't help but smirk at the thought of her newest companion having been there both times she bled at this school, with his favored, recurring color scheme.. Or well, lack thereof. It would have been easy for the sight-deprived girl to mistake his large looming figure for an overgrown shadow. If only he hadn't had to deal with the repercussions of her actions the second time. "- It has failed to quail my optimism for the brighter future Utopia has offered us."
A brighter future. That was what sparked a fire in the deepest part of Ophelia's soul, what she found purpose in. There was not a single person who made it out of the war entirely unscathed. Everyone lost something. Land, limbs, loved ones, even themselves.. the heartbreaking list could go on forever. Fixing it could never settle on just her shoulders, everyone would need to put forth some effort. But every bone in this little body wanted to be part of the solution. She had an advantage to her disadvantage: more insight into the emotional turmoil people hid behind their masks. It was in her nature to heal things, even the unseen wounds that painted people's auras in such painful hues. She could do it... That was a possibility as long as she stayed out of Syena's path.
Grabbing the teapot once more, Ophelia hooked the finger of her free hand over the brim of a teacup and waited for the scalding steam to inform her it had been filled to the proper level. A sadness filtered through her gaze as she stared at the sangria color that bled through the swirling water as she poured. Her voice dropped to a soft whisper. " The war painted so many harsh, broken, bloody lines between kingdoms. My own included. It was hard for anyone to live in the color another kingdom could offer when all that was seen was the black and white provided by your own territory." With her finger screaming a burning warning, Phi set the pot back in place and offered one of the cups to Mr.Price. " Utopia will change that. Give us and our people the chance to heal. Maybe see things in a different light. Wouldn't you agree?"
The duchess would wait for Mr.Price to take the cup from her before finding her seat once more. Bringing her cup to her lips, she blew gently before pulling a slow sip into her mouth. The tart flavor of hibiscus hit her first, then settled into the sweet tang of floral lavender. Its calming heat seeped into every tight muscle that had formed since the door shut on Orby, pulling a sigh from her as she returned to her task of finding honey. Once located, she held out the jar for Mr.Price first. Bright warmth returned to her tone as she looked at the shadow-wrapped form across her with an excited smile. " Be careful, it's hot. And the tea will be a little tart, I think some honey will sweeten it up nicely if you would like to try it?" Mother sun she hoped he liked it.
OOC: FINALLY
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Posted: Wed Oct 23, 2024 2:24 pm
 LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: Ophelia xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: The Man Who Sold The World
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
It was amusing to see just how skittish Ms. Akimi had become in the realm of darkness that was Kieran's quarters. The poor Deary seemed to have a level of uncertainty that was laced into every breath she took, and the longer she stayed, the worse it seemed to get. The sun-fearing damsel was quick to adjust her posture, prompting a raise of Kieran's brow as he watched the pitiful woman poorly attempt to compose herself. The sad sap looks like she could snap like a twig at the gentlest breeze. Deciding to give his hypothesis a test, he blew on his cupcake before taking another bite, pushing a gust of air out from his lips and towards the pink-haired woman sitting before him. It was a silly thing to do, but the prince of darkness needed to do something to cut through the boring monotony of Ms. Akimi's mouse act. It was amusing enough on its own at the start, but just moments in, it was already starting to become rather dull.
" Even with my limited perspective on things, I can assure you, It's not wholly one-sighted."
That, on the other hand, was unexpected. A delayed chuckle escaped the prince's lips as her words settled in. Now there was the leading lady he was looking for! The constant feelings of helplessness that radiated off her trembling form weren't without merit, but it was the fact that she had bite to her regardless of her fear that had really piqued his interest. That and the fact that they'd been so rudely interrupted just as they'd introduced themselves to one another, but vengeance on the silver-haired brute was a subject for another time. For now, he was delighted to see that Ms. Akimi still had some fight in her despite her non-corporeal bestie being nowhere to be found.
"Oh my~ You'd think I'd be able to have seen that one coming."
For a moment, it seemed as though the dreadful little lightbringer was going to deflate again. Were such meager acts of bravery really all that one of Alore's finest could offer him? Then again, that didn't surprise Kieran too much. They were a bunch of weak-willed cowards, after all, so Ms. Akimi's behavior really wasn't too surprising. It also went to show just how dependent the pink-haired damsel was on her luminescent companion, showing a side of herself even frailer than before.
Still, it would've been quite the disappointment if that had been the most fire she'd been able to muster. Fear and terror were all well and good, but without a bit of resilience, it was like eating fish and chips that had gone soggy. The taste might still be delectable, but the texture would be all wrong! Thankfully, his scene partner hadn't given up just yet. " Before I share my opinions, I would like to address one topic of importance. Ms.Akimi, is my mother. Please, I prefer friends call me Ophelia when it's just us. Or Phi if you favor nicknames," began the damsel, further elaborating the times she considered "Lady Ophelia" appropriate nomenclature.
It seems as though I may have given this mouse a little too much freedom in her cage.
But as he pondered further, this was still within the realm of acceptability. He'd call her anything she wanted for now, but when the time came to get into the real meat and potatoes of the play he'd scripted out for them, he'd use the character name listed on the page. In any case, she didn't stay the primary object of his annoyance for long as one of his servants barged in without a single knock on his door. The sniveling insect scurried about, having clearly figured out what they did was wrong by the icy glare Kieran gave them. Unfortunately, it was too late.
As he stared the fool down, a phantom tendril made its way to a side table by the doorway. There, it neatly fit into a keyhole and silently unlocked the door. First pulling out a pen and then a notebook with a lock of its own along with several sigils, the limb deftly wrote a note as its master stared into its intended reader's souls Kieran watched as the idiot shakily tried to help Ms. Akimi with her precious infusers. In another show of independence, the pink-haired damsel denied the servant's attempt to assist her in putting something in a cup, as if something as brainless as that could appease the prince of darkness after the stunt he'd pulled.
"That'll be all, my ever-faithful companion. Thank you so much for your assistance. Take care now."
Taking the hint, his servant hurriedly made his escape from Kieran's quarters only to have the tendril at the doorway snap around his ankle. Stopping in his tracks, the servant looked over to where a second tendril was pointing and stepped to the side table to read the note left for him. It read as follows:
Quote: If you ever come into my quarters without my express permission again, you will live to regret it. Assuming you live to begin with, that is. Oh, and do make sure to clean up after yourself if you haven't already. Messes are for the sloppy, and I don't have patience for sloppiness. Tootles (:
Being the positive example for his men that he rarely was, Kieran had his phantom limbs put the note and pen away, locked shut, before having the darkness recede back to whence it came. The special ink he kept in that pen would fade away shortly, and that would be that. The prince of darkness then put his full attention on Ms. Akimi, who began to speak on what she'd been faced with in her time at the school so far.
" I must admit, even with the missteps I've faced since arriving on campus— It has failed to quail my optimism for the brighter future Utopia has offered us."
"Offered on paper, perhaps."
Already did the damsel sound as though she were about to entertain Kieran with a motivational speech. If the poor Deary asks me to sing kumbayah by the end of this, I might not be able to hold back the urge to vomit anymore. As if to challenge his thought, MS. Akimi began cleaning off her hands with piping hot water as she readied herself for outting together her little concoction. Kieran had to hold back the urge to gag earlier than expected, perplexed and disgusted at how the damsel treated herself as if she were a peasant. Still, the prince of darkness steeled himself nonetheless as Ms. Akimi spoke further of her hopes for a brighter tomorrow. She also brought up a personal relation to the horrors of the war, which Kieran assumed to have something to do with her blindness. This brought a bit of excitement back, as he hoped to one day learn about the circumstances that ended in the loss of her vision so that he may one day use it against her in some way. And with a bleeding heart like Ms. Akimi's, he assumed that wouldn't be too hard at all.
Thinking back to his own time at Utopia so far, he had to say that he was overall unimpressed. Little had been done to assuage the student body's worries since the night of the explosion, or at least for the most part anyway. Just how did this idiotic woman keep such faith in this bastion of ineptitude after such a disastrous affair in regards to keeping the various royals safe? Then again, he had quite a bit of information that the damsel clearly lacked. Beyond even the fantastical events that left his subordinate's infantry in shambles, there were far darker dangers at play. Even he didn't know the full extent of the chaos Ms. Tonnerre had in mind, let alone the sisterhood of the traveling insanity that jingled around in her head.
And then there were his own plans, which weren't inherently malicious but would be rather dull to execute without an execution or two. When the right opportunity presented itself, he would make all the eyesores he'd met so far fear the night until their dying day. And for a select few, that day was not very far away at all. Kieran's avenues for new information were growing exponentially, and soon he'd have more than enough people unknowingly working towards his ultimate goal to get the job done before they even knew it. And once they did find out, it'd be far too late: the chains of mortality would hold him no longer. From then on, it'd be a simple waiting game, and despite being a rather impatient man, Kieran was nonetheless quite the determined one.
" Utopia will change that. Give us and our people the chance to heal. Maybe see things in a different light. Wouldn't you agree?"
"A different light indeed. Yes, I do believe that's quite possible."
A different light by virtue of unending night; yes, such a world truly was within the palm of Kieran's hand. It was a dying man's final request to the king-to-be that took his place, and he would oblige the final vengeance his former self wished upon the world with his last gasp. He wished for his successor to take everything from this world, just as the world had taken his everything away from him.
Taking the cup of miracle tea from the pink-haired damsel's frail hands before she dropped it on him, Kieran had to wonder what exactly drove this pea-brained mouse. Did Ms. Akimi have such convictions pushing her forward? Had whatever tragedy she referenced molded her into the blinding ray of false hope she was today? If so, that was rather unfortunate; it was unlikely she could ever be swayed from her path, and such a path would only end in heartache. Well, unfortunate for her and those who cared about her anyway. Kieran, on the other hand, was more than happy to bring about this damsel's ultimate doom. But to do so, he would pull more information from this delicate flower before plucked it out and stomped it flat.
" Be careful, it's hot. And the tea will be a little tart, I think some honey will sweeten it up nicely if you would like to try it?"
Once more did he blow to both cool down what he was to consume and to see if she shattered into a million pieces. Fortunately, she seemed to be less frail than her ideals, at the very least. Taking a sip without a care in the world for sweeteners, Kieran found the bitterness more enticing than whatever a spoonful of sugar would do to change this complex mix of leaves and spice. The prince of darkness had to admit that it seemed like his prospect for leading lady was good at one thing at least. Perhaps if he focused on the tea, he could soldier through her sweet-as-molasses nonsense just a little bit easier.
But honestly, did this woman really believe all the horse s**t she spewed out? Poor, poor Ophelia. Oh woe is Ophelia, who only wants peace. If there was even an ounce of truth in the silver-haired brute's words, Ms. Akimi wasn't nearly as innocent as she so desperately wanted to come across as being. Then again, from Kieran's experience, this was the gold standard of Aloran behavior; he almost pitied the little mouse for having been brought up in an institution that doomed her for failure. "Mother Sun" would offer her no protection when she needed her most; no deity would. The only forces that controlled this world were the laws of nature, and if man is to prevail, then it would be through conquering, not praying.
"You shouldn't undersell your knack for tea brewing, Ophelia. If your life in the upper class doesn't pan out, definitely consider running a cafe. You'd get rave reviews for certain, and I'd be sure to read every one aloud so that you knew every ounce of praise you'd surely get."
Taking one hand off of the teacup, he brought a small plate from the middle of the table and brought it to his corner before placing the cup atop it. Closing his eye for a moment, he took a whiff of the aroma from the tea before leaning back into his chair. Bring his arms over the back, he next looked on at Ms. Akimi with a curious look on his face. He needed to know more, so much more.
"Shall we exchange sorrows then? One eye for two isn't exactly a fair deal, but it's the best I can offer," he began before turning away from her. The look on his face was one of carefully calculated sorrow, one he knew to replicate well when he needed to show the world a Kieran Price that was ever so withered away from what he went through instead of the man who would never let such a tragedy befall him again.
"Of course...I would understand if you don't wish to share. Somethings are just to painful too bring up on a whim. You deserve your privacy, should you wish for it."
Since this mouse so clearly wished to play the role of caregiver, he'd let her live out her fantasy for a little while. It was only when she truly believed it—believed she made a difference with him, that he'd snatch that fairytail from her weak hands and burn it to a crisp. But first, he would offer a bit more honey to lure this busy bee in.
"Is there...something else you'd rather discuss, perhaps? How has it been with the classes so far? Have you found the curriculum worth your time? It seems a bit...unnecessary in some aspects, but perhaps that's simply another luxury I have that others, perhaps those more deserving than I, simply don't have at their disposal."
OOC:
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Nov 02, 2024 10:42 pm
LOCATION: Kieran's room xxx COMPANY: Kieran xxx CLOTHING: Tea Timexxx THEME: It is What it is.
It was unsettling for Ophelia to sit in a room so tainted in black. Unable to appreciate Mr.Price's impeccable taste in furniture because the shadows of the space seemed to close in around her, forcefully pulling her back five years in time. This area made her feel like a child again, her sight newly ripped away. At least while in her homeland, light, and color were still abundant, something for her to grasp onto. But here in Mr.Price's suffocating quarters, it was like she was stuck in impending twilight, the colors of the day losing their saturation, edging her closer to true helplessness.
No, this was no time to deflate. Forcefully igniting a ray of defiance in her chest, Phi decided she wouldn't dwindle beneath this wretched 'childhood' fear. That timeline held no ownership of her now. She had already overcome it and fought tooth and nail to learn how to navigate. If there was one thing she learned in her acceptance, it was that finding things for her to control could make things more palatable for her. Luckily, she knew how to navigate her way around a tea set blindfolded. Pair that with easing queues she could cling to, like the slow chuckle her friend released after her teasing remark—comfort and confidence were quickly beginning to build in her spine.
"You shouldn't undersell your knack for tea brewing, Ophelia. If your life in the upper class doesn't pan out, definitely consider running a cafe. You'd get rave reviews for certain, and I'd be sure to read everyone aloud so that you knew every ounce of praise you'd surely get." The breath locked in her chest whooshed out of her. Boldness grew at the sound of his enjoyment paired with the use of her first name. It sent a blinding, toothy grin over her face.
Catching her laugh with one hand, she shooed away his compliments with the one still holding the honey. " You are such a darling. Please don't flatter me ." She teased, attempting to place the compliments to the side like the unwanted sweetener. At least he had good taste; it wasn't every day she found someone with a similar pallet to hers. Smothering her smile with another sip of tea, Ophelia chose not to dwell on the fact he'd yet to give her permission to drop formalities by allowing a small daydream of a cafe to flourish. Something all her own, that she could build from the ground up, control every detail down to the lid type for her containers; however, with her family's financial situation the chances were just as slim as its success would be.
" To be entirely truthful, I much prefer the intimacy that accompanies these types of encounters. I fear if I ran a cafe, I'd slip into the pitfall of trying to sell the different benefits of tea, and that would never bode well in my territory." She admitted, delicately placing her cup back on its saucer. " The use of herbs for anything outside of outstanding flavor is very taboo. Witchcraft, as my family would say. Highly frowned upon." Especially when illness was so rare in their closed-off part of Alore. As she explained, she offered a magical twiddle of her fingers as though the humbo jumbo might frighten her new companion. Though she could understand her family's displeasure with dabbling in the dark arts, anything that grew under the blessing of the mother sun could never be inherently wrong. Like everything in this world, it was how it was handled, how you reacted to it. Maybe she shared too much, though; surely other kingdoms had such strict rules. Right?
Her gaze trailed the tea prospect before her, immediately second-guessing her word choice. He looked like the type to dabble in witchcraft. Crap. It was a split-second decision, a choice to showcase her view on the suffocating rules to prove she wasn't as right-winged as she was so often expected to be. Reaching out, she plucked a lemon slice off a nearby cake and squeezed its juice into her cup, the vibrant red hue of hibiscus quickly snapping into a deep violet. One of the leaves she had mixed in was well known for aiding anxiety, which was magic all on its own, but the darkened change when citrus was added gave the drink the outwardly magical quality that was so frowned upon. This is the most minor example of free magic for all to enjoy, not just the result of any one kingdom's interference. And if she really thought about it, that was how she wanted the world to be: Magic shared and experienced by all.
"Shall we exchange sorrows then? One eye for two isn't exactly a fair deal, but it's the best I can offer,"
The question caught the duchess off guard, yanking her out of her worry as she snapped her gaze to Mr.Price. As though in an unintended answer to his question, the lemon slipped from her fingers so its plunge could echo through the silence. Yes, she fully expected to share their horrors at some point, but to learn what took his eye before even getting to call him by his first name? It felt... Wrong, invasive even. Then again, she wasn't opposed to being the first to open that door. If it was what he needed to feel comfortable sharing.
Before Ophelia could answer, he was backtracking to offer an out to the probing question. It seemed she wasn't the only one second-guessing her words today. "Of course...I would understand if you don't wish to share. Somethings are just to painful too bring up on a whim. You deserve your privacy, should you wish for it. Is there...something else you'd rather discuss, perhaps? How has it been with the classes so far? Have you found the curriculum worth your time? It seems a bit...unnecessary in some aspects, but perhaps that's simply another luxury I have that others, perhaps those more deserving than I, simply don't have at their disposal."
It was in his last remark that Ophelia pinned her first bold assumption of Mr.Price's stature. While it was safe to assume every student in Utopia held the title of Lord or Lady, there were a few who simply oozed the type of elegance that accompanied the life of an elite. "You're in the presence of a prince." Her mother's voice curled the warning at the back of her mind, setting her spine rigid again. So far, she'd come to face two types of royals.. Would Mr.Price's standards be closer aligned with Oliver and Alosa or someone as cutthroat as Syena? At first impression, he seemed so genuine and caring. But there were so many layers of emotion hidden beneath she was missing at this time. Without Orby to illuminate him, she was left to dig for answers at a snail's pace.
How would she know anything was true?
This sparked the idea. There was no point in denying herself the enjoyment of his company by being dissuaded with taking the slower route. There were other, fun avenues of learning. "There are plenty of topics to discuss. I am not against answering either of them. But.-" She hesitated at the idea of offering games to a prince but pushed through after finding distraction in keeping her hands busy. Plucking up the honey once more to drizzle it over her beignet, she focused on the task and laid out her offer. " With such dreary topics, why don't we add a little mystery to the spilling of our personal experiences? Have you ever heard of the game Two Truths and a Lie?" It was a child's game, an icebreaker meant to help people get to know each other; the twist was in how things were worded, whether or not you could trick the other person.
Since her ability to see emotions manifested, Phi held the world record for winning streaks in this game. Small shifts in colored emotions gave people away the moment a lie passed their lips. Now, with the shadowed companion across from her, she sat on an even playing field. " It's pretty self-explanatory; the catch is we can only delve deeper into topics if the other can manage to pinpoint the lie. I'll go first, Then you, and then we can guess and discuss. Sound good?"
Prepping herself for her most magnificent performance, Ophelia squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. Resting her elbow on the table, she held up her fist. Leveling Mr.Price with a mischievous grin, she extended her pointer finger. "It may be unsurprising and a little childish, but I favor dance class above all else. I'm quite good at paired and solo performances." Dancing never entirely relied on one's sight if their partner knew how to lead. It was the solo portion that may not meet everyone's standards, but Phi believed her performances were quite favorable.
There was hesitation as she mulled the wording for her following statement in her mouth. How could she put this? " My personal flavor of healing comes at a cost when not performed properly." Night healings were always dangerous for someone who relied on the sun, but not when she had Orby present.
Finally, she lifted her third. " In my territory, it is highly frowned upon to eat any prepared food before high noon." A bell chiming in the distance signified the time: High noon. Smiling, she delicately dropped her hand and grabbed a small fork beside her. Cutting through the prepared treat with ease, she brought it to her mouth and savored the sweetened flakes with a little excited shake of her shoulders. Chef Suzen really did know how to make the best beignets; she simply couldn't contain the little dance of pleasure from slipping through.
Quickly regaining her composure, Ophelia set the fork back in place and ran her thumb over her bottom lip to catch the small dollop of honey trapped there. Through hooded eyes, she returned her sights to the prince sitting across from her. "So Mr.Price. Think you'll be able to find my lie?" She teased lightheartedly.
OOC:
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Posted: Sun Dec 01, 2024 8:56 am
LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: Ophelia xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: Rose Tint My World
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
As the prince of darkness continued to converse with Ms. Akimi, one thing was becoming increasingly clear: the poor woman was such a ******** idiot! Each sickly sweet word that came out of her sun-loving mouth was coated in naivety so thick you'd need a saw to cut through it. She took each compliment thrown her way like a lovesick puppy, her confidence growing at each little morsel of positive encouragement. If he told her that she sure looked swell, the damsel would likely swoon. Even without sweetener in his tea, he was still getting sick to his stomach over just how sappy Ms. Akimi truly was.
I knew it'd be easy, but my gods. This is like stealing candy from a baby, and a blind one at that. It's far too easy...but also far too entertaining to stop.
Unfortunately for Ms. Akimi, Kieran was not the type of man whose morals had long since been cast aside. There was a certain sense of glee he was experiencing from such ease of deceit, which only helped further the authenticity of his smile towards her. He was quite happy at the moment, just not for the reasons Ms. Akimi seemed to think he might be. With how playful she allowed herself to be with that witchcraft comment, it was obvious that she thought herself to be gaining a new friend. Were all Alorans this easy to manipulate? Had standing in the sun for too long burned their little pea brains to a crisp? Wait, no; calling them pea brained was rather insulting to peas. The people of "radiant" Alore had cerebrums smaller still than specs of dust, paying mind only to their bleeding hearts to guide their way in life. And what wretched hearts they had.
Paying her words little mind before changing the subject on her, Kieran took a long sip of the hot tea as her confidence once again faltered, an eye of icy blue gazing soberly at the pink-haired damsel in distress. While he could tell that her vision had reached an all-time low without her little glowing pet around, the prince of darkness knew better than to allow himself even the tiniest slip-up.
"There are plenty of topics to discuss. I am not against answering either of them. But.-"
What was the poor Deary on about now? A curious brow raised itself as she continued to explain her little game to him. " With such dreary topics, why don't we add a little mystery to the spilling of our personal experiences? Have you ever heard of the game Two Truths and a Lie?" By the time she finished asking her question, the pink-haired damsel looked as though she'd once again gotten a hold of herself. Kieran took a hand to rub the back of his neck, hoping it wouldn't be injured despite the constant whiplash.
"Not sure how good of a read I'll be, but I'll bite. After you, then."
Ms. Akimi proceeded to light up like a Sismas tree, brimming with excitement as she began her little game. Kieran at a loss; he never had such a difficult time keeping a straight face before in his entire life! The pink-haired damsel was truly one in a million and deserving of his attention so that he may one day wipe her off the face of the earth. Honestly, he was doing humanity a service in single-handedly dealing with her like he was right now; there'd better be a parade or two in his honor once this was all ******** over.
Taking a beignet to chew on as the mouse in front of him continued to yap about her life like it mattered at all, Kieran took his time enjoying every sugar-coated morsel. He hoped that in finding joy in this indulgently sweet treat, he could also better feign interest in whatever exactly it was that she was trying to accomplish. From how prepared she was to show off her children's game, it seemed as though this was far from her first time using this as an icebreaker. And here I thought I was getting special treatment. It was far from a perfect performance, with the novice fumbling a bit in the middle; was she experiencing stage fright? Kieran just hoped that wasn't something she was trying to work on, as she was going to be deeply disappointed in the future given how much he'd make her afraid in the future.
"So Mr.Price. Think you'll be able to find my lie?"
Having been staring blankly at the damsel, Kieran's eye of pale blue finally blinked. "Hm...decisions, decisions..." His index finger grazed his brow back and forth as he considered his options. Should he continue playing along with her stupid game? Degrading as it felt, it did serve a purpose, and at the very least it'd be done in private. Then again, Ms. Akimi seemed like the type to speak fondly to everyone about all her wonderful friends and the bountiful joys they each brought her. Could he really allow his reputation to sink so low? For now, yes. The prince of darkness reminded himself that it was better to seem as docile as possible. Much like Ms. Tonnerre's charade, he too would benefit from everyone thinking him to be as homely as possible.
"Oh wait, I'm supposed to be sharing my three now right? Let me see..."
Tilting his head down, he brought the beignet in his other hand down to grasp for a napkin. Using both hands off the excess coating on his finger tips, he looked up thoughtfully as he pondered what he could say that would entertain the imbecile in front of him the most. "To start off...I'd once been thrown to a literal wolf. That's how I ended up down an eye." That much was rather far from the truth, of course; he went to that old wolf of his own volition. A rarity when it came to being worked on by Izolda, but one the prince of darkness could easily afford. Tossing the napkin away, he picked up his tea glass.
"For the second, I once had to save my friends from an incident involving splotches of paint and long-distance sneeze inducement. The gentleman was not the least bit amused after all was said and done."
This much was quite factual. Many years ago, Emie and Shio had found a gentleman that they'd both despised. And whenever that happened, chaos was sure to ensue. The raven-haired duchesses used their abyssal arts to tack his shadow to a canvas to torture as they saw fit. And they certainly saw fit for many mischievous plots. And once they found where the lout was ticklish? That was when things really got rough for him. It took little more than a speech and wave of his hand to keep them from facing any truly harsh consequences, but to say it was a headache for him was putting it very lightly.
Closing his eyes, Kieran brought his teacup to his mouth and blew on it gently before taking a sip. Humming softly as the bitter warmth traveled down his throat, he proceeded to let out a sigh of relief. Those days...were long gone. That man who'd stick his neck out for others, even at the sake of his own sanity, had long since perished. There was joy to be had in that. As difficult as his present circumstances might be, they couldn't compare to the pathetic life he'd allowed himself to have for so very long.
"And for my final statement..."
Mirroring the bitterness of the tea, his face took on a more serious expression as he shifted his gaze back up to his ceiling. The pitch-black that surrounded his room could only provide him so much comfort, as disdain welled up within him. Still, he knew not to dwell on a past that he was no longer chained down to. Laughing it off, he looked back at Ms. Akimi with a similarly roguish grin. "One day, I hope to find myself in a world that truly knows peace." This one wasn't entirely a lie, as he did in fact wish for harmony throughout the land. He made sure to speak as wistfully as possible, with a face that showed such longing for that lofty goal. What he failed to do, however, was to mention that his vision for the future involved him leading the world as its eternal ruler. But why spoil the surprise so soon?
Bringing his cup back down to the table, he went for a cookie and bit down. There was a noticeable crunch to it when he had specifically asked for them to be soft and chewy; was this a mistake on the part of the chefs or an active decree of rebellion? Either way, he would have to make sure that the school's loud-mouthed head chef remembered why she and her staff were brought to this institution: to do their job correctly. And if they couldn't do that, he'd simply have to make them wish that they could. His smile returning to his face, he returned his attention back to his star in the making.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to try and solve for you first."
Placing the underwhelming cookie on his small plate with the beignet, he continued to bend forward as he brought both hands over his mouth to ponder. Tapping his fingers against opposing knuckles, he looked to be deep in thought as he stared at her intensely. "If I had to guess, I think your lie would be...that..." While he had been paying attention while she was blabbering on about her life or whatever, Kieran wasn't sure how to make a thoughtful response when he thought so little of her. Such were the difficulties of stage life. But when in doubt, go with the first option. Besides, it honestly sounded outlandish that she could show coordination in any field, let alone dancing. Even with her pet at her side, the revolving door that was her confidence would surely cripple her.
"You're such an astounding dancer. You'll have to forgive me if I'm wrong, but perhaps you can prove to me one day if so?"
Kieran chuckled, turning on the charm for Ms. Akimi to likely swoon over. Referring to her as a mouse was growing increasingly fitting considering how excitable she turned out to be. It must hurt to be so gods damn chipper all the time, though. Right? But if it did, that gave Kieran all the more reason to keep up the act. In that way, he could kill her softly before going in for the kill proper. Speaking of which, there was certainly more to be done in terms of giving the foolish little optimist heart palpitations.
"And please, call me Kieran."
The urge to gag was getting stronger by the second, but Kieran persisted. He had a goal in mind, and he planned on making sure he achieved it. Besides, despite the self-deprecation that came with putting on the facade of his former self, he really did enjoy finding all the ways that the woman before him was so very wrong about the world around her. It was akin to looking at a rear-view mirror, only this time it was him at the torturer's seat. And while Ms. Akimi might not know it yet, she was in the same position he was when his world was ripped away from him. Would she break in the same way? Would she just wither out? There were so many possibilities, and Kieran was eager to see which way she'd land once her false wings were plucked. Truly, he was concocting quite the edge of your seat show.
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Jan 04, 2025 8:02 pm
LOCATION: Kieran's room xxx COMPANY: Kieran xxx CLOTHING: Tea Timexxx THEME: First Sight
It was a deep rooted feeling, the need to entertain or somehow be more entertaining. Light in human form, that was how she was meant to draw people in, seeking warmth and comfort from her. Quite difficult to accomplish when she was busy counting the man's breaths and the sound of his chewing— which was weird and not something normal people would do. But it was a blaring fact that Ophelia’s line of normalcy was often falsely illuminated by Nadine. Lock that outside and… look what she was left with. — The excited offering of a game worked as a lure to provide him, them, with easier engagement.
“Not sure how good of a read I'll be, but I'll bite. After you, then."
Yes, well, he would prove to be more difficult for her to read than others. But that didn’t squander her excitement at the moment. The seeing always discounted what could be harvested when vision was removed, the things you noticed shifting in the void around you. Like the small, hardly noticeable change in his breathing. Whooshing in its attempt to conceal…something. A laugh, maybe? Well.. they called them blind spots for a reason, she was bound to miss some things.
It didn’t matter, Just as she finished spinning her tales, it was like the shadow that had grown still across from her stirred back to life, setting himself up to list his statements. As he did, Ophelia moved to cup her hands around her tea and hover it just below her lips. Basking in the warmth of her drink curling against her nose before stealing a quick sip. There wouldn’t be time to drink or eat while he spoke. Since Mr.Price knew of her poor sight, she hoped he wouldn’t mind how she closed her eyes and listened intently.
The grinding sound of the sugar left on his lips from the treat he’d indulged in accompanied his first statement. Leading with the story of how he lost his eye. Those words, in particular, seemed just as coated and measured as any well-curated recipe. A horrifying way to lose one’s vision bit she imagined his tone would be more tempered when speaking on the subject. Instead, there was something sour in the verbiage, much too sharp and directed.
His second, however, perked her ears; the talk of his friends was drawn out and hollow, like pulling from a deep well. An indisputable pitch Ophelia was familiar with, that accompanied skilled storytellers who weaved their memories into more entertaining tales. She tried to visualize his mysterious features as he spoke, unable to wipe the image of a sad smile from her thoughts. It seemed out of place. This was a fond memory, as gruesome as it led on, but there was undeniable longing stretching in the silence afterward.
After mulling through his thoughts for an ungodly amount of time— which was fine, she wasn’t the type to rush when it pertained to the comfort of others.— Mr.Price finally unveiled his third. "One day, I hope to find myself in a world that truly knows peace." The smile that tightened around these words counteracted the mournful inflection sent into the air. His tone matched the affirmation, for the most part, as though he was handing her an obvious truth. But she envisioned two vibrant colors fighting for dominance, one narrowly absorbing the other. A world blessed with peace was something everyone should strive for; this fact was inherently true. Though she couldn’t help but wonder what his looked like. Did his vision rage like a wildfire that would devour anything in his path, or was it gentle like the murmuring songs spread through the masses that changed the tides of war?
With the subtleties Ophelia allowed herself to delve into during their time together, she found minimal quarks. Like Mr.Price favored soft treats over crunchy, by what his selection of unfinished sweets told her. He also prominently chewed on his left side, leading her to mull over the possibility he was left-handed, which studies show would make him more artistically inclined. She hoped this was true, well in line with her vision of his outlook on life. On peace. What version of the art did he prefer? The orchestra, singing, theater, art, or poetry? Did he dabble in all of them? Or just one. Art was rather useless to her now, but if they ever found themselves in the painting room, she was sure he would describe them to her.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to try and solve for you first."Confidence slithered through his tone, but something heavy contrasted the energy sparking between them. Mr.Price must have had a taste for theatrics. A deep understanding in the way he used each dramatic pause to change the weight in the room as he shifted in ponderment. It was deliberate, she decided, so Ophelia could feel his stare recenter on her. It must have changed direction at one point, maybe back when that sigh danced up toward the ceiling. Where had his thoughts stretched to then? Or did he know just how punishing it was to abandon the blind to silence, purposefully leaving her to cling to the sound of his fingers drumming together?
"If I had to guess, I think your lie would be...that…”
His hesitation pulled a rye smile to her lips, hinting at exactly what answer he would predictably choose.
“You're such an astounding dancer. You'll have to forgive me if I'm wrong, but perhaps you can prove to me one day if so? And please, call me Kieran."
Despite the feather-light blow to her ego, a brightness warmed over her features, whatever gnawing worry his reluctance in sharing his name previously melting away. Maybe Ophelia had managed to form cracks in the white barrier she’d once seen stitched over his figure after all. Her head dipped, one hand abandoning her cup to sap the rising heat of joy from her collarbone. “Kieran.” She softly parroted the name, testing its weight on her tongue. There was no way of knowing if his territory had the same naming process as hers. Still, she tried to imagine the name's meaning. You couldn’t say it without a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. It seemed profound as if it should be recognized, chanted from the rooftops for those far and wide to hear. In his kingdom, that was likely true, but she had no recollection of it. Certainly, he was not the type to be whispered in hushed tones, but something demanding to be witnessed. Fitting was all she surmised, at least until she could get her hands on someone in the library to help her do a little digging.
The reluctant smile curled to the corners of her mouth, hiding the shy hue he’d managed to paint on the apples of her cheeks with the shake of her rising head. Men these days and all their smooth tones. “I'm disappointed. In what barbaric world would a kingdom force its subjects to abstain from eating prepared food until noon?” Unveiling the lie, the duchess hoped he wouldn’t mind how well the timing of their tea party had aided in her stretch to fool him. “Is it because my sight isn’t what it used to be? Shame on you.” A laugh breezed through her chastisement, portraying a general amusement at his choice. She wasn’t at all surprised by it; assumptions were a thing everyone made about her disability. It was why she usually loathed it so much. Their quick deduction that she couldn’t do anything properly on her own. Damned be all the bruises she used to heal before sundown each evening. Today, she didn’t hate it as much because his expected underestimation of her ultimately made this a win.
Placing her teacup on the saucer, she stood from her chair and toddled around the table to the side where Kieran was most exposed to the sunlight filtering through his windows. The spots in her vision never wavered, keeping the man’s features burned and obscured as she squinted at him. Wrapping one arm around her waist and bringing the other elbow to rest atop it, she rested her chin on her palm. Wondering how long he would remain partially invisible to her as she pondered her choices.
“This game is all about phrasing, you know. So I'm disinclined to believe…”
The odds were stacked in her favor, there was no way his wishes for peace could be a lie, so that left two options. A fifty-fifty chance. She only wished she could clearly see if scarred lines stretched from his eyepatch.
“That a ‘literal’ wolf took your eye. It could be an innuendo for many things. The wolf could easily be you, though I would certainly hope not.” Twisted to believe a man could gouge his own eye out. Still, Ophelia wondered if she reached out and touched his face, would his skin give way to coarse fur? Would his lips draw back to expose rows of large, razor-sharp teeth all the better to eat her with? A laugh pushed through her nose. What an outlandish idea. “ Could it have been the title of the mighty Northern worrier you narrowly defeated in a quest to reclaim decimated lands?” Musings of the wild fantasy where a golden-haired hero fought on the battlefield were stitched together in her mind. It was her dream, how she would have rewritten the ending to the childhood home lost to her. There was no saving it, just like there would be no keeping her should her assumption be wrong.
She brushed the story off with a meager shrug, dropping her hand to pluck a bite-sized cookie from Kieran’s side of the table. She gave it a subtle sniff before popping it into her mouth. “Hmmm.” The hum of enjoyment slipped from her lips as she breezed past him, skirt whispering along the floorboards as she stepped towards the door. Gosh, Red velvet cookies were one of the superior desserts. Chef Suzen's ability to keep the cookie moist with the subtle tang of buttermilk she mixed into decadent dark chocolate was just phenomenal. The cheesecake icing lacked though, Julian most likely had been the one to attempt that. In fear of the poor boy losing his job, Ophelia would certainly be keeping that correction to herself.
“ My greatest apologies if I failed to pinpoint the proper fib, but I do hope to be correct. I would love more details on what a peaceful world looks like to you one day. The way you say it makes it sound like quite the vision. And the long-distance sneezing? Well, that’s so outlandish it must be true. It’ll be one of the six impossible things I believe in today. ”
Purposefully, she molded a quote from one of her favorite childhood stories. Mr.Price seemed so well-versed, he was likely familiar with the readings of Alice and her merry bunch of unorthodox friends. Their current gathering was similar enough. If she centered herself as Alice, what friend would Kieran become to her?
Ophelia pondered the thought as eight strides —the perfect amount— took her back to the door. Biting the knuckle of her pointer finger, she paused momentarily, casting a hesitant glance back in what she thought was Kieran’s general direction. She wanted to open it, to see if Nadine was still hovering nearby or if she had preoccupied her time with something else. Instead, she sharply knocked her knuckle against the door the way her friend had when she first requested tea infusers—submitting to the idea that if he didn’t want Orby’s company, she wouldn't force the light source in. She didn’t like being left with a muddled view but wouldn’t mind dealing without it if it brought the male more comfort. Hurried footsteps sounded beyond the door, their pause bringing a wobbly “How may I be of service?”
“Could we get some music please? Violinists, preferably.” She called, finding her answer in the sound of slip-resistant shoes waning down the hallway. Turning back to her friend, Ophelia offered a cheeky grin. “ You’ve presented me with a challenge, Kieran, and well... With my most recent experience, I believe tomorrow is never guaranteed, so why prolong what could be proven today? I hope you don’t mind entertaining the idea of a dance?” She bumbled about as she circled the space. Brushing the pads of her fingers along surprise pieces of furniture that had melded seamlessly into the shadows of his room and mapping them in her memory.
Dancing, movement, music, these were all things that could never be robbed from her the way so many other joys in her life dimmed. Still her heart longed to witness the people of Ómorfes Pétres dancing barefoot through the cobblestone streets in celebration again. The way their joy illuminated her homeland with life and love dulled her smile into something reminiscent. Those days were long lost to time and destruction but hope to one day hear the laughter of her homeland thriving again was a beacon for her. Though those were hardly the appropriate maneuvers to attempt in such close quarters, the sun trot was the base for most of them and could comfortably be performed within an eight-stride space.
When the small group of violinists were welcomed in, they took occupancy in a small corner. Ophelia was quick to give them instructions, humming a light tune in a 3/4th time signature they could expand upon to their heart's content. “I feel I should clarify: I never claimed to be an astounding dancer, only good. So, if you would like to join me in the steps of the suntrot, Mr.Price, you are more than welcome to keep me from bumping into any of your belongings. It’s quite an easy dance to learn. If not, I do believe this is enough space to prevent accidents. And Let us hope your imagination is as creative as mine.” As she teased, thick lashes fell to rest on her cheeks, straightening her posture as she had when Oliver’s hand found a home on her back that first day in dance class. Starting the tune with a hum for the violinists to follow, she swayed gracefully into the first few steps. But as her head arched to the side, sending ribbons of pink curls dancing over her shoulder, it was her brother's massive figure taking shape as her invisible dance partner. Loran's shoulder that her left hand balanced on instead of empty air, the other curling around the imaginary calluses in his invisible hand. While her father had once soothed a scared child by lettering her dance on his shoes, it was Loran, who loathed dancing, that took the time to teach his blind little sister to dance confidently in the darkness.
OOC: So listen. Im sorry for the Novel IDK how this got that far away from me.
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2025 3:54 pm
LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: Ophelia xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: Mr. Sandman
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
Watching Ms. Akimi experience such joyous relief in reciting his name brought a smile to Kieran's face. The poor little mouse spoke it like a prayer, which was fitting considering that Kieran would one day soon be comparable to one. Had she predicted his immortal reign in that little mouse heart of hers? No, it was all the more likely that this was simply a product of her astounding stupidity. It had become his greatest accomplice in his game of deception, really. The sweet simplicity of Ms. Akimi's gentle soul was just asking to be taken advantage of. Perhaps during her curtain call, she would thank him for opening her eyes to the depravity that existed in the world if one only looked in the darkness for long enough. Yes, those final moments, where her light finally flickered out, were something Kieran looked ever so forward to.
Taking a long sip of the tea as he peered at the pink-haired damsel's flustered head shake, the prince of darkness really had to wonder how little this poor woman understood about the world around her. Had she simply never experienced betrayal before? Do such concepts simply not exist in the land of light? Or was it just the ruling class that lived in such ignorant bliss? That was the more likely answer considering what their worst had done to his former self. They knew of true suffering, or at least how to inflict it upon others. But Kieran made them understand what it was like to be on the receiving end of such senseless cruelty, and he would one day do the same to Ms. Akimi.
“I'm disappointed. In what barbaric world would a kingdom force its subjects to abstain from eating prepared food until noon?”
A blonde eyebrow was raised as the lie was revealed. Did the little mouse catch me in a trap this time? How adorable. Kieran closed his eye and let out an embarrassed sigh as he hung his head down. The boy scout had done her wrong with his assumption; how could he? "If I were a fish, you'd have gotten me hook, line, and sinker. I don't think I've ever felt quite as ashamed of myself as I do right now," admitted Kieran, his voice tinged with sheepish remorse. Truly, the man before her came across as someone who truly felt guilt over making such an assumption. Unfortunately for his leading lady, that couldn't be farther from the truth. He might have worn a frown, looking as though he truly thought he'd failed his dear friend in some way; the man behind the man was simply bemused by this revelation.
Once again, he found himself to have underestimated the little damsel. For how easily he had continuously woven a multilayered web of lies around her, that she was able to pull the wool over his eye twice now was...interesting. Perhaps it was the fact that she always spoke in such painfully uninteresting platitudes that caused him to be susceptible to being misled by Ms. Akimi. On the other hand, to know that she's capable of putting on such a convincing performance already...just means there's less work for me to concern myself about. Kieran also found himself comforted by the fact that she took his wrong guess in stride. It took more than a thoughtless comment to extinguish the flickering spark of positivity within her. As much as she wavered, Ms. Akimi did not break. Not yet, anyway.
Carefully placing his cup down as the pink-haired damsel came to his side, he wondered if she'd also be able to sift through his abyss and find the lie amongst his truths. Kieran looked up at her with a contrite smile as the little hamster in her head did overtime. To have Ms. Akimi try and analyze his words brought a certain sense of joy to the prince of darkness. Did she really think herself intelligent enough to properly decipher his web of lies? Such naive light will always fail against unending darkness; that was simply the way of the world. As Kieran's leading lady continued to ponder which statement of his rang untrue, his piercing blue gaze passing right through her, he found himself unable to look away. She was just too entertaining, like a proper leading lady should.
“This game is all about phrasing, you know. So I'm disinclined to believe…that a ‘literal’ wolf took your eye. It could be an innuendo for many things. The wolf could easily be you, though I would certainly hope not.”
Unfortunately, it would seem that without a proper script, the damsel's performance was doomed to fall flat. There was certainly merit in the fact she'd had him so gripped for that fleeting eternity, though. In time, with the proper guidance, Ms. Akimi could most certainly leave the crowd speechless. Raw talent was something she had in spades; all the pink-haired damsel needed now was proper stage direction. Luckily for the foolish little mouse, she had the most generous man in all of Shahiti with her now. Oh, what luck she had.
Kieran's face contorted into a bijou, somber smile as the oh-so-kind Ms. Akimi found herself lost in the fairy tale she'd created out of an event that forever transformed him into a true Shahitian. In a way, it was fitting for her to do so; centuries from now, it would be proper for him to have developed folklore surrounding the objective truth of his life. If he hadn't set his sights on systematically destroying her life, Ms. Akimi might've granted herself some leniency with fanfare like this. But unfortunately for her, her fate was sealed. “ My greatest apologies if I failed to pinpoint the proper fib, but I do hope to be correct. ” Coinciding with his judgment was further flickering from the damsel. With how often she did so, Kieran was starting to wonder if that was simply a cherished hobby of hers. Popping his head up, he let the smile grow larger.
"Am I really so predictable? Oh my. It would seem as though you see me better than most."
A comment with a delicate sweetness to it hid the ill intent that would only make itself known in the aftertaste. And by then, it'd be far too late. Such would be the fate of poor Ophelia Akimi if she continued to allow herself to be blind to Kieran's malice, and it warmed the prince of darkness's ebony heart to understand that such a fate was practically destined to be. There were many variables to be worked through first, though. Just as Kieran had woven his deceit in a tight knit, Ms. Akimi used her friendships as her string. Even malcontents like the brute from that night would have to be considered before opening night. To deal with such a fickle audience was less than ideal, and realistically it'd be far better for Kieran to simply wait until his ascension to inflict his fury upon the world. But where was the fun in that?
Speaking of fun, Ms. Akimi seemed keen on proving her point about being a better dancer than he'd given her credit for. “ You’ve presented me with a challenge, Kieran, and well... With my most recent experience, I believe tomorrow is never guaranteed, so why prolong what could be proven today? I hope you don’t mind entertaining the idea of a dance?” The thought of putting his hands on an Aloran, let alone dancing with one, would normally make Kieran sick to his stomach. But he braved the nausea so far, so he might as well keep following through. That she felt so comfortable ordering his servants around, however, was interesting. It was but another commodity he could rip away from her at a moment's notice, so he would allow such insolence for the time being.
"And miss out on a dance with such a dear companion? I think not," began Kieran as he arose. He stood still for a moment, taking in Ms. Akimi's every action as she did her best to familiarize herself with his room. How tragic it is that so much has been robbed from her already...there's so little for me to take myself. Even so, it spoke wonderfully to her resilience that Ms. Akimi can still find any confidence at all in her condition. She had a wit to her, humor, and such seemingly unbreakable positivity. But everyone had a weakness, and in due time she would reveal hers. For now, they would dance.
“I feel I should clarify: I never claimed to be an astounding dancer, only good. So, if you would like to join me in the steps of the suntrot, Mr.Price, you are more than welcome to keep me from bumping into any of your belongings. It’s quite an easy dance to learn. If not, I do believe this is enough space to prevent accidents. And Let us hope your imagination is as creative as mine.”
"Don't worry about a thing, Ophelia. You remind me of a rose-tinted canary, as your song has brought me nothing but good fortune. And as long as your melody remains in my ears, I do believe we'll be just fine."
As the violinists Ms. Akimi requested for began riffing off of the simple hum that came from her tender lips, the prince of darkness slowly strode towards her and intertwined their hands. Kieran wanted her to feel safe, as if nothing in the world could harm her whilst she was in his arms. A performer as astounding as her deserved nothing but the best before her big debut, after all. "Lead the way, won't you?" asked Kieran in a near whisper as he enjoyed the intimacy such activities granted them. With such closeness, he could see why so many people coveted this woman's ever-radiant glow. It was as though she were a beacon for all those seeking her seemingly endless supply of aegis. Unfortunately for his leading lady, however, Kieran saw beyond the trap of her light.
And to orchestrate her downfall...would be the highlight of his career.
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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love me til death Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2025 3:49 pm
 LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: Ophelia and Strange Man xxx CLOTHING:
"Speaking #AAAAFF""Thinking #749dc3"
Oliver hadn’t meant to lose track of time talking to Gwendolyn but he felt bad for the girl. The least he could do was keep her company for a few minutes. The few minutes had turned to hours and Oliver knew that he was going to struggle to admit his absence to Ophelia and her new friend. He was already in the dog house for what happened the last time he had hung out with her and one of her friends and now he was late meeting with this one. Oliver could only imagine what terrible things they might say about him. Even worse, is that whatever terrible things they could say about him were nothing compared to the truth.
The truth was that he was a pretender. A false prince with no claim to the throne and Oliver liked it that was. Living as a prince with no expectations of him was a good thing but now with this engagement, there was suddenly so much… pressure. And Oliver didn’t enjoy it one bit. It would have been one thing if the two were genuinely in love but the more time the prince spent with Ophelia the more he realized that would never be the case. He couldn’t help but chase the idea of what could be.
Making his way towards the person’s room Oliver couldn’t help but notice the hallway was one of the men’s dormitory. It was hard for Oliver not to be jealous about the idea of her hanging out with a male alone but even more so that she had invited him to tag along and Oliver was now late doing so. Oliver didn’t know this stranger at all but he already didn’t trust him. Was this the person who had kissed her the night of the explosion, he hadn’t questioned her too much about the night but thinking about it made his blood boil.
Arriving at the door he could hear a deeper voice talking about her voice. ' Oh, he’s good. Too good.' He shivered before attempting to open the door. Would it be rude of him to just barge in? After the events of their double date with Alosa and Ivan, Oliver knew he didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. Especially since he was currently engaged and still hadn’t told her. He couldn’t help but hope the issue would somehow resolve itself but his mother reminded him just how important this engagement was to their kingdom if they wanted to remain in a positive relationship with Ulium.
After knocking once and hearing nothing Oliver wondered if it was too loud for the two of them to hear him. The idea of him walking in on the two of them seemed less than ideal but sitting outside doing nothing felt even worse. ” Ophelia, I am coming in.” He spoke before trying the doorknob, thankful the door was unlocked. But his mind hadn’t prepared him for what he was about to see. The two hand-and-hand dancing, Kieran was stealing his moment with Ophelia right from under him. He knew he couldn’t trust this snake.
Even worse, it appeared like the bubble gum duchess was truly enjoying herself. The light in her eyes was something that Oliver thought was only reserved for him but it appeared that he was not the only person who could make her light up an entire room with her smile. As much as he wanted to call out the scenario before him he had learned from that night. Instead, he opted for a much softer approach, ” I apologize for busting in, and for being late. Did I miss the tea?” He asked as innocently as he could.
” I am Sir Oliver, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you. Ophelia has spoken so positively about you.” He gritted his teeth as he bowed to the man before him. The worst he could do now was make a scene, as much as he wished to do so. But lying felt wrong, the truth was he didn’t know much about the man in front of him. But he seemed off. Of course, Oliver knew that was probably due to the fact he was currently holding his partner’s hand but he couldn’t help but already dislike him.
OOC: Thank you Robin for the gorgeous layout heart
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2025 8:13 pm
LOCATION: Kieran's room xxx COMPANY: Kieran + Oliver xxx CLOTHING: Tea Timexxx THEME: Astronomical
In Ophelia's opinion, this tea affair couldn’t have turned out better. Having managed to slip in her lie undetected, and pinpoint Kieran’s stacked advantage over advantage. A win she could use as a barrier to keep the weight of her cards close to her chest, while simultaneously slipping one free from her partner. Tsking teasingly at his response to her admission, she brushed away the tainting melody of shame that wrapped around his words. It was no fault of his to assume such things. She only took advantage of human nature, and would never fault the man for falling victim to it.
"Am I really so predictable? Oh my. It would seem as though you see me better than most."
A laugh rang from her chest like a bell—the contradiction of those words making her giddy.
“Predictable? No, my phileo I still have much to unveil I’m sure. Fate was just kind to me in this game of chance.” She was sure that with this child's game, she had only narrowly scratched the surface of Kieran's complexities. At this point, every word formed from his lips felt like the wispy threads of a well-woven mask he wore for anyone he encountered. She wanted to be more than that. She wanted to find out how thick it was. How firmly he kept it in place.
The need to unweave him would drive her until she found his authenticity. The threads of his being that showed her who he truly was and why. Even if her lack of sight slowed the process, she would cling to every sound, every shift of energy until she tangled herself so thoroughly he trusted her to cradle his truth and bear half the weight of the white that once encased him.
Fate continued to cast favor, drawing them closer when Kieran decided to slip seamlessly into the space she’d left for her brother. His frame was much broader than she imagined, stretched further to account for his wide wingspan. Then he spoke, and the heat that bloomed across her cheeks at his words highlighted the smile she barely managed to conceal beneath pursed lips. “Really now? I'm honored to be a songbird with such immense power, Kieran.” She mused up at his collar bone breathlessly. “Tell me, do you often whisper poetry? Women would wear the edges of their paper bindings thin rereading such words.” She knew if she were a lesser woman, her knees would have given way. Thankfully Mr.Price had a strong hold, and what little pride she had kept her firmly upright as she followed his request, and led the way.
Dancing had an intimate way of exposing things in a person that words never could. An unspoken dialect in each step, in each shared breath. Thus far she'd only ever been forced to teach and translate, but Kieran was fluent in it. He moved with a confidence she could feel in her bones. Molding himself into her fluid shadow with no clashing or fumbling, but an effortless ebb and flow in their motion to the music. It was easy to melt into him, to allow herself to enjoy the ease she found in this shared language. He read her every move, when her foot slid back to spin, Kieran gave the space her wide skirt needed to whisper along the floorboards. A girly laugh bubbled out of her throat when he caught her hand and used the gentlest tug to lure her back in perfect time. It was fun, graceful, soft and sweet. The way dancing should be. Though, even through the warmth building between them, Ophelia couldn't shake the distance that echoed from him like a cold spot. The barrier of smooth leather gloves that barred her skin from his, or the slick straps and biting metal clasps she'd found when her hand grazed his chest and shoulder. As if he'd gone as far as to cage himself within his clothing. Was that to protect himself? Or her?
" With my winnings, I am entitled to a few things." She prodded. Mulling the question on her tongue while she found the proper honey to coat it in. She wanted to know many things, but mostly she wanted to know about his friends, the people he chose to spend his time around—their wild adventures. Understanding him couldn't be far off from learning about the people he surrounded himself with. She only wished Oliver were here to help draw more out of him. His silly nature crafted an ease around people that made them open up. She wanted Kieran to experience that.
Though, the breadcrumb of thoughts soured beneath the weight of his ever-growing absence. Was she wrong? To have expected him to make the same effort for her request as she had the night of their double date. A twinge of disappointment throbbed in her chest once she realized she had gone out of her way to meet his friends, but he hadn't felt the same importance with hers. And, as far as she could tell, she had the better track record of keeping tasteful company. But she would offer him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… He got busy with his siblings, or a teacher was giving him a good old-fashioned scolding, she would have to surely distract him from later.
Shaking the thought from her head, she peered back up at her friend, her lips barely having the chance to part when a sudden draft grazed her skin. Ophelia's head snapped in its direction, somehow managing not to miss a step even as the door flew open and a familiar voice sliced across the blurred space. “ I apologize for busting in, and for being late. Did I miss the tea?” As though the simple thought of her prince drew him to her, Oliver made his grandiose appearance by… bursting through the door. Oh dear. She would need to have a light-hearted conversation with him about manners. “I am Sir Oliver, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you. Ophelia has spoken so positively about you.”
Oliver's tone surprised her, a grittiness she hadn’t heard from him before. Was he alright? Fighting the urge to pinch her brows in worry, she kept her smile fixed tight, slipping out of Kieran’s hands with a twirl to finish off her dance at Oliver's side. Or well.. She thought she was at his side. Her fingers slid searchingly through the open air for an awkward second until they found purchase on his familiar arm. “ Not at all Oliver, the kettle should still be warm, and I have plenty of loose leaves left to make you a cup.” Not to mention Kieran had requested enough treats to feed a small army. “I’m so glad you could make it.” She cooed lightly up at him, gently squeezing his arm.
Turning back to Kieran, she offered a sweet smile, hoping he wouldn’t be upset by the added company. “ I hope you don’t mind that I invited Oliver Mr.Price. He is my…” Her words caught, realizing they had yet to solidify any label between them. Her lips hung apart for a second, head ticking up to Oliver, then down to the floor to hide the heat creeping over her chest and up to her cheeks. “Is my… P-Partner. In all things I’d like to imagine.” The admission was soft, spoken to the floor, fearing its weight would crush her entirely.
WELP– that was enough of that! Barreling past the confession, her head perked back up in a fit of wild curls, refusing to face the reaction Oliver had to her words by pulling him along side her and further into the room. "I thought you two might make good friends."
OOC::
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