|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2012 8:49 pm
Merry archer, bold and strong,
Roaming oer life's trackless way,
Ranging through the forest long,
Did'st thou wound a heart to-day? Kingdom: Prudence
Location: Foyer then Second Floor
Bowing ever so slightly to Ryan, Belle went inside with John. Neither had seen the smoke nor heard the commotion outside. However there were people running around inside the main foyer of the castle. “Perhaps someone is arriving soon and they need to get ready to receive them. I do not know who would be coming though.”
John had asked if she was looking for Gregoir and Milani. The archer nodded “Yes, I should announce my presence to them so that they know they have no been abandoned. Not that they are weak mind you, however I am sure they would enjoy knowing that the King and Queen have not left them to rot in this castle.” Rot…probably not the best choice of words, but it worked. As John asked if Belle would like help, she gladly accepted. “Thank you, it would be much appreciated. I do not think I would be punished for getting lost in this castle, but the sooner I see the people I need to, the better I can find out how they are holding up and if they have any worries about assassins and the like.”
Belle probably shouldn’t have been discussing assassins and possible murders with someone outside of the Kingdom, but as far as Belle knew Fortitude was no against Prudence, and if any of the virtue Kingdom’s needed help, Belle was sure the King and Queen would not object to her helping allies in Veritas’s realm.
As the two were about to walk upstairs, Belle heard the doors open behind her, and then she heard her name shouted out. Someone was very happy to see her, and the voice was extremely familiar. “Princess Cecelia?” Belle asked as she turned to see Cecelia wafting toward them.
And waft was such a perfect word for the way the young woman moved. The Cecelia Belle knew was not standing before. Instead there stood an apparition in the likeness of Cecelia, her skin and clothes see through and the air around her cold as ice. “You…Your Highness?” Belle squeaked out, not sure what on earth was going. However Cecelia ignored the archer and continued to speak freely, as was her nature. While the conversation continued Belle forgot John was there, she could only think about what on earth had happened to Cecelia.
“Belle, who in the worlds is this? He is not a lover, is he? I do not think I could approve someone so…homely looking. Besides, you can do so much better back home in Prudence.”
The statement brought Belle back to reality and before she could answer, Cecelia had moved on and was walking up the stairs. “Ah! Princess, wait!” she called after her, chasing the ghost up the stairs before Cecelia stopped and looked back her. The princess mentioned that her wardrobe was always lacking and being used to the insults, Belle was not fazed at all, just completely confused. Looking back at John, she shook her head. “I am terribly sorry, please excuse us!” and continued to follow Cecelia.
When Cecelia finally stopped at a room to examine it, Belle stopped the Princess. “Your Highness.” Belle interrupted, more forcefully than she would have liked to, but really, the girl gave her no choice. “What…what happened to you? Are you truly…” the word caught in her throat, she was unable to choke it out. “…dead?”
The archer usually wasn’t at such a loss for words. Generally she had a great deal to say, and despite Cecelia’s demanding way Belle could always speak her mind and the Princess would either agree or disagree and that would be the end of that. But now, now there were just no words to describe the sadness and confusion Belle felt.
Archer, in this forest dark,
Thou hast scope to prove thy skill
Cast thine eyes abroad and mark
Lurking vice and rampant ill. Out of Character: I love Cecelia, but it feels weird talking to myself XD I'm leaving this conversation open ended even though I could keep going so that I can move them in a day or so. Or, if anyone wants to stumble upon them, thats cool too ^_^
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2012 11:14 pm
 Ӄɨɍɨϙȿ Ďɍɇɨȿȿɇὴ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✠ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✠  Kirios could not help but smile at Corrine’s words. He was glad to hear that he was not the only one enjoying himself in Corrine’s company, and that he was helping her opinion of those from Justice. He was indeed flattered; while he did not speak for his countrymen, it was always pleasing to hear that someone considered him a good enough specimen of them. ”I am pleased that I can be considered a worthwhile representation of my people, milady,” he said in a soft tone with a slight bow and a smile. ”I assure you the Entreri do not epitomize our nation’s goals or its people. We are not so treacherous.” While he did speak a great deal of patriotism, and it was certainly not an idea he was opposed to, he simply did not want the presence of the foolish elves and any of the actions he may or may not have committed to taint his standing with the arch duchess he was growing so very fond of.
His amused expression only deepened upon Corrine’s next words, expressing that she wished to go on ahead of her kin and walk alone with him. Naturally, he was not opposed to the idea, and her cousin did not seem to be so as well. Lincoln took a moment to address him, asking that he keep watch over his angel of a cousin as they traverse through the halls. Of course, he was always happy to honor the wishes of his new friend’s family, but he could not help but think there was something more to his words, like he knew their intentions and was giving his hushed approval. Mishka did not appear to mind either. He bowed his head in agreement. ”Of course. I shall see to it that no trouble is to befall your sweet cousin.” With that he allowed Corrine to lead him away, arm in arm, and on towards the dining hall.
After a turn or two of walking in silence, the two’s flirtations continued once again when they were out of sight from any inquisitive observers. It started with a few stolen lustful glances, but escalated as the moments passed. They found themselves moving ever closer to each other, as if pulled by an invisible string that would not stop until they were locked together. Their hands brushed in a way that felt enticing to him even through the gloves that covered his fingers. Eventually his free hand(the one not holding onto his helm) moved, as if all on its own, and wrapped itself around the arch duchess’s corseted waist. He made no secret of the fact that she excited him, and he could tell that he had at least some of that very same effect on her.
He turned to face her as she spoke, arm pulling her closer even as she placed her hand over his chest plate to prevent him from getting too dangerously close. He could tell from her tone and the way her hand was placed over his chest that she was merely teasing him. She wanted him every bit as he wanted her, so it was only natural that he continue as he she wanted him to. ”Milady, it is never a good idea for a grieving woman to be alone, lest she do something rash. No, a woman in mourning should have someone to comfort her in her hour of need.” He let his helm fall to the floor and brought his newly free hand to brush across her cheek and reach around the nape of her neck, using his hold on it and her waist to draw her ever closer to his form.
Lips pressed gently against hers. He could feel her body slowly relax against his, seemingly welcoming his embrace. He found himself unwittingly stepping backwards with his back to the wall. Their lips waltzed in unison for a few more moments before Corrine pulled away just a moment to catch her breath. He was about to say something when his words were all but forgotten as she forced herself on him, this time her being the assertive one, to which Kirios could not complain at all. Their collective weight shifted as she placed herself against the wall, with Kirios pinning her in a much more aggressive wave of kisses. She stopped to say something, but only two words in he continued his assault of kisses, feeling the woman tighten her grip on him.
Unfortunately for him though, all good things had to come to an end sometime, as he soon learned upon hearing an echo of some sign that there was someone in the area. She pulled away from him reluctantly, and he let her go with just as much enthusiasm, stepping backward to free her. Somewhat labored breaths escaped him as his eyes met hers. He wanted more, but he knew he could not have it with prying eyes circling about. He bent over to pick up the helm he’d dropped and offered her a smirk upon her suggestion. ”Of course, milady.” He brought his hand to her waist again, more a tease than anything, and silently chuckled when she jerked away from his grasp. He let her intertwine her elbow with his and was content to let her lead him toward the dining hall, her heavily armored bodyguard for the moment. ((OOC: Any autoing done with permission. I'm sorry for the delay, been a shitty few months. >.<)) A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead. I'm frozen to the bones, I am...
A soldier on my own, I don't know the way. I'm riding up the heights of shame.
I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest. I'm ready for the fight, and fate.
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head, the thunder of the drums dictates
The rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths, the rising of the horns ahead.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 25, 2012 8:01 pm
And she had. Not that she'd made any secret of that when they were being raised. Both of the parents obviously favored the eldest, the golden child. Their first. Nikolai hardly counted as a consolation prize.
His decision to pardon that b***h of all charges, and grant her amnesty only further deteriorated the queen's opinion of her son. He'd make a wretched king; she'd known that from the first breath he'd taken out of her womb. The eldest cast such a large shadow, that Nikolai would only drown in its darkness.
It was only when Erik's slender fingers found their way around her shoulders that Fedora paused in her vehement disgust in her eldest surviving offspring. “Belittling his image will do nothing to resolve the issues we have with our son.” He reminded her gently, eyes soft for her despite the tension that they had twining between them.
The queen went stiff in his grasp, no more satisfied with her husband at the moment than she was his son. “And startling will do nothing to improve yours.” She fired back, quite obviously still angry about what had transpired this afternoon. “That you would ever even look at that wretch!” Even after so many years spent within Prudence's border, jealousy ran thick within her veins.
The king's eyes closed slowly as he forced himself to count to ten, reminding himself to remain patient. “I made mistakes in my youth, yes. Never did I claim unto you that I came unsullied to our marriage bed.” He admitted lightly, brushing off what had once been magnificent with Asmoda as merely a passing fling. The Prudentials would never know, of course. That he had acted against their primary virtue would appall the lot of them. “But you too, were no doe-eyed girl when we exchanged vows.” He accused, his expression threaded with sincerity.
But she would have none of it. “I never-” She gasped, a hand rising to her chest as she defended herself against her husband's outlandish accusations. However adamant she might have been, Erik's voice rose steadily over hers.
“Oh no, you hadn't. But there are other ways to taint one's innocence, Fedora.” And she'd know all about that. His queen glowered in response, and he continued. “And you would know all about those methods, my dear.”
It took her moments to recover, but a derisive snort was the first thing she could muster. “You were well aware of what I'd done before marriage, Erik. And yet you saw fit to marry me despite my manipulative toying.” Tilting her head her tone remained as cool as her glacial stare through the mirror. Somehow piercing through his reflection and into his soul. “But it calls to question, if you only married me to further your kingdom's army? Considering it would not have been advantageous of you to take that whore to the alter.”
And bringing the princess to Envy to Prudence would strengthen their troops for an upcoming war, for her father would do what was necessary to protect her from any attacks. It served the virtuous kingdom well... And she'd known that, even in her innocence.
“If you'll remember correctly, my dear wife.” Despite it all, he remained patient, talking to her through her reflection, unsettling as it was not to be able to look fully upon her face. Her anger scorched him like a hot coal beneath his bare foot. “ I made no hesitation to finalize our marriage in the eyes of the gods – despite the reluctance that many Prudentials have about intimacy.”
“You held no such qualms before our ceremony.” She said pointedly. “Else we wouldn't be having this conversation.” If this was his idea of burying the issue, he continued to fail miserably. More like, his hands possessed the shovel in which he'd dig his grave. “Perhaps you should answer my question.” The way she pursed her lips to the side, pinching her features together made it certain that she expected an adequate response, when he was already flailing.
The king shifted his weight from one foot to the other, drawing in an exasperated breath. Always, she'd been of the stubborn sort, his wife. And this would be no exception. “While I will admit that I found it beneficial to my kingdom to marry one from a reputable family in Envy... I've never thought you a pawn to a greater scheme.” He chose his words carefully, but even so the man tired of their quarrel. “I chose you. Over her. What transpired between her and I has long since passed.” How could he tell his wife to go against her sin, bid her to let go of the jealousy that had imbedded itself to her soul?
“And looking back, I wish I had not wasted my time on the likes of her.” Even Fedora, in her green haze would be able to hear how restrained his anger was – his teeth were clenched as he thought back to how outlandish Asmoda had chosen to be with him – openly fondling him as though she were still his lover.
She softened at that, visibly relaxing even if she'd not fully let the issue go. “I want her gone, Erik. I'll not have her in my castle, when she has no respect for the boundaries our marriage requires of any who would dare look upon you as a partner for a tryst.” He only nodded, fully concurring that the woman should not be allowed with their borders.
“She won't come home with us.” The queen promised her husband – a darker intent swirling in her words. “I'll make sure of it.” Within the folds of her skirt lay a dagger, cool to the touch when it brushed her skin. But soon, the red on the blade wouldn't be exclusive to the ruby that decorated the hilt. Not if she had anything to say about it.
Damn. The prince threw back the cup in a dramatic fashion, his tongue probing the inside of the rim in hopes of finding more of the warm, bitter liquid that brought him inner peace. It came back as dry as it entered. Double damn. It'd been the last of the keg. Stealing a glance about the room, Gregoir Bascov discovered that anyone who'd once populated the area with him had left.
There were no wenches to be had.
Triple damn. Heaving a drunken sigh, he stood from the stool he'd been perched upon, swaying a little as he attempted to maintain his balance. A hiccup escaped his chest, causing his whole body to jerk upwards in a little bouncing fashion. More came, but it had naught the slightest deterrence to the over-indulgent man; he wanted more.
Licking his lips, he stumbled over to the other side of the room, and tapped out another barrel of ale. “Maid!” He barked, spilling a bit as he moved the mug underneath the spigot. “Maid!” Surely one of the help would come, and he'd try his charms once again. Mayhaps this time, his virtue wouldn't go into overload when a woman got close. So far, he'd had little luck in that department; getting too close caused his heart to race for all the wrong reasons. “I have need of you! Maid!”
The person who answered his summons appeared solemn. Her big eyes took him in – unfortunately, her alliance to the heir meant that she'd need to tend to his siblings as well. And there were no others around to give him the aid he required. She stared, saying nothing as he took her into his sight.
“Hell-o” Gregoir greeted, openly scrutinizing the warrior's form as though she were a fine horse ready to be auctioned off. While she wasn't much to look at, at this point, he was becoming desperate. He needed someone to help him bury his virtue so deep that he'd never find it. And what better person to do so, than the person who pledged her allegiance to the Bascov empire?
Asmoda merely rolled her eyes, just barely having the patience not to back hand him for being so openly rude. “I did your father.” She said with a smirk. No one would recover from that escapade... especially if she continued to be so content to remind them. “And I've already swapped saliva with your oldest brother. Should I continue to keep it in the family?”
Some of his ale rushed up to the back of his throat. “Why did you have to say that?” He groaned, looking away so that he wouldn't visibly shudder. He'd been about to tell her that it was alright, because he couldn't drink her pretty if he tried, when something scuffled in the hallway. While his mouth continued to drone on, Asmoda's attention fell elsewhere.
Her posture stiffened, and she readied her spear. “Who goes there?” She called out, making it plain that whoever it was had been outed. She knew someone was trying to hide.
But just who, surprised the dark-skinned woman. “Your highness” she said with no respect, making only the bow out of habit, and because customs required it of her. “I figured you'd still be licking your wounds, or having your husband lick them for you.” It wasn't appropriate, but rarely did she ever do things according to expectations.
Fedora glared at her, her eyes as icy as the mountain peaks of Prudence. “You will pay for how you behaved in front of the general court today, Asmoda. Don't think you won't.” And it'd be sooner than she'd think – the dagger still remained expertly hidden in the lines of her skirt.
But Asmoda paid no heed to the woman, believing that Fedora would never lift one of her own fingers to fight – forgetting that the Queen came from a background of violence. Envians often were ruthless. Unkind when jealousy blinded them. And when it came to her husband, she'd be no exception.
Asmoda came a bit too late in responding, and Fedora buried the blade in the woman's side. “I will suggest now that you leave my family alone, else I'll carry out the execution you should have received many years ago.” Asmoda gave a soundless gasp as a reply, and Fedora removed the knife, wiping it on the woman's clothes before letting her fall to the floor. “I will only give you this one warning. Resign from your service to Nikolai, or I'll end you.” With that, she hopped away from the room, tossing her curtain of dark tresses over her shoulder as a mark of a good riddance.
Gregoir said nothing, too starry eyed to really make any intelligent commentary.
Though, his stare widened as another guest sauntered in – one he recognized to be that of Aloysha. What was the man doing here? Had he not retired from his position in the military. “I don't think we're in need of an old codger body guard.” The prince stated smartly, as though he was terribly clever.
Only the woman still on the floor with shock realized just what was going on... and it was too late to stop it. In a last ditch effort, she tossed the spear in her hand, and it surged through one of his arms. But the man was dextrous enough that he merely switched hands, crying out in pain just once before rushing on the prince, killing him swiftly with his blade. It took nearly nothing to polish off Asmoda, his smile mirthless as her limp form twitched with death.
“Skatertʹyu doroga.” He said formally, but with no feeling behind it. “See you in the Hells.”
Now to find everyone else who could have a claim to the throne. And kill them, to keep that from happening.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 25, 2012 9:47 pm
Location~ Outside: With Petruccio, then heading inside After shaking the housecarl's hand he smiled at his words. They seemed almost foreboding to him, in the way they were said. But as Petruccio continued Petyr assumed it was just his way, if not for the baritone vocals it wouldn’t seem as so. An agreeing sigh escaped through Petyr’s nose, “No need sir, I have found these gardens to pull the mind in every direction. I too have thought of my family amongst the buds of night.”
As he listened to not only the man but the ambient noise of the water running down, his mind wandered to his own mother for a brief second. A pang of guilt and loneliness shot through him...when was the last time he had seen his own mother? Her words had been seen often enough, but it had been more than a decade since their eyes had graced one another. Clearing his throat softly he looked at the Lustian man and recalled words so often spoken by his father. “You should sir, I’ve often heard that the sole purpose of beauty is to be coveted, and once found, plucked. And I dare say the simplest of all, would be a flower.” It was the only beauty Petyr had ever dreamed of coveting, or it had been for the majority of his life. His mind searched for the object he kept hidden in a pocket near his chest. Feeling the familiar weight his body lightened a degree.
Petruccio too had not been here for very long, less so than Petyr had. Nodding at the housecarl's response he turned to him in kind with a blank expression as he took note of the Housecarl’s features. “That was the Heiress of Avarice,” Petry answered him, searching the housecarl's face for any signs of obvious deceit, “The High Princess Dominique d’Aquitaine.” He wasn’t sure if Petruccio was being completely honest about not knowing her or not, but he could observe his reaction to her name. Even though Petyr would never know the truth for sure--seeing that he only knew names and not the faces of many royals--he would watch regardless.
As they had been standing and conversing the smell of smoke turned Petyr’s attentions. A quick glance told him everything, a fire was raging in a different area of the castle grounds, the familiar light in the night sky told him as much. Instincts moved his body back and away from the Lustian housecarl, in time to see him extending his arm and raising a weapon. His abruptness to be armed without any words led to Petyr’s immediate caution, but he held back to see what the man might do. It was only when Petruccio excused himself did Petyr allow himself even the slightest comfort they would not be the ones quarreling just then.
Petyr’s brows furrowed, not deeply but enough to show he was contemplating, as his current companion lifted off the ground telling him to follow if he desired. Petyr intended to do as much in case someone he knew was being hurt, or would be. He moved a few feet behind Petruccio, when he had an abrupt thought that caused him to stop. He watched as the Lustian disappeared before moving towards the castle. He had come here on orders, and that was all he needed to concentrate on. He had already side-tracked himself once, he could not allow it again. He needed to search for the Enteris, and bring back proof that they were no longer a threat to the Cromwell’s reign.Justice means minding one's own business and not meddling with other men's concerns.
Plato OOC: I apologize greatly to those I left stranded. ):
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sing This Corrosion To Me
|
Posted: Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:33 pm
They come in lines to welcome you. They're shining through... Babylon...
And the sights will pierce your eyes, Babylon...
With nightmares on both sides, Babylon... Petruccio Giuseppe della Rovere xx Housecarl of Lust xx Forest ”Interesting,” was his only response to hearing the identity of the woman who so cruelly brushed him off earlier before running off. So that was the new heiress. He personally bore no ill will toward the heiress; frankly, he always felt the previous one to be a bit of a brat. The previous Avaricians were allies to Lust, so it was only natural that the new ones bear hatred toward those allied with the old regime. ”Then it is not she who has decided that I am her enemy, but our courts; the court she is destine to rule over, and the court I serve. Politics at work. A pity, I always do hate it when my enemies are so very pretty.” If there was any malice in his ghostly tone it was completely unintentional. ”I am but a simple housecarl. I do not choose my enemies, my king does.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It took all of his mental fortitude to suppress the starving demon that was well hidden beneath the housecarl’s flesh. The situation threatened to worsen with Lorelei’s response. He could hear the echo of a roar in the back of his mind. Flashes of images, fantasies, of the most grotesque kind rose to the surface; images of the assassins, the beast within laying waste to hordes of the fools with erotic delight, feeding on the flesh and desecrating the corpses as only the nightmare could possibly imagine. It was a struggle to keep the creature from taking possession of him, but he would keep it contained under any circumstances. It was not every day that he was forced to fight so hard to restrain himself, but the last thing he was expecting was to come to this realm, which was supposed to be a safe haven, only to find those he was supposed to serve under attack from men who were not even supposed to be here. And naturally, hearing Lorelei’s cries of despair did nothing to help his mood.
The bastards who did this would undoubtedly find themselves without breath soon. They would pay for their crimes in the most brutal ways possible; contrary to his coxcomb appearance, the young housecarl could be rather pitiless, and creative, in battle. Whether by sword, axe, or psychic will, they would soon find themselves in pieces scattered along the castle grounds. It was unfortunate that in doing so he would likely have to mar the beauty in these grounds, but he would do what had to be done one way or another.
He turned his attention toward Cat as she addressed him. He took a deep breath, an effort to help calm himself further. He nodded in response to her words, noting that she was correct; someone would indeed need to check on the abbey. ”If it is your wish that I should go, then I will obey your command, eccellenza. But I do not think it would be wise for me to leave your side when there are assassins about. I would prefer to stay by your side and protect you, but again, I will do as you command.” Any trace of the demon behind his voice was gone from any ears for now, but within the cell of his mind he could still hear the creature beating at the bars yearning to get free. He was still very angry, and his tongue ached for bloodshed. While he was around there was the slightest chance the beast would be free, but he was confident that he could keep it confined. More important was keeping the royal children of Lust protected.
It was not long before the three were joined by yet three more, including the other two children Lust, Dante and Micah. Petruccio was wary as the other man immediately went on to question Lorelei on who had apparently slain his brother. It was then Dante demanded to know the exact same thing, readying his weapon. In all honesty, the housecarl could very much relate. He wanted them dead just as much as the boy did, and by the nether realms they would indeed die, but right now all he could focus on was protecting the children. He turned toward the new company and decided to address both the males at the same time. ”Assassins,” he said somewhat matter-of-factly. ”Somehow they were able to breach this realm and its safeguards, a disconcerting notion to say the least.” His grip on his axe tightened further. He had a feeling he would be using it soon. ((OOC: Sorry it's so short and sucky. X.x))  Say what you want me to do and I will do it for you.
Say who you want me to do and I'll do her too.
And in the backstreets all the demons
Laugh as hell - They want some more.
Dobermans raising Cain in this loveless game,
And you wait to score...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 26, 2012 4:02 am
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Ӄῐηɠɖѻɱ: Avarice
Ƚѻҫӓʈΐѻη: Veritas Kingdom - Quarters - Back to the Gardens
Ɍӓηҟ: Heiress ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  Dominique’s gaze remained unwavering on the assassin as her expression remained unchanging. “Unless you wish your career to be cut short…My locked door, will be an obstruction, henceforth.”
If he thought that his countenance was empty, he did not know the meaning of the word. Her usually shifting eyes remained hard, the color of amethyst quartz…They were unfeeling. He wasn’t the only one trained to be lethal…Trained to appear, and disappear before anyone knew of her in the first place. As his mistress, he would respect her orders—Or he would die by he hand.
It was that simple.
“That is your folly then… For one who should be ever vigilant.”, the golden haired woman responded coolly, her posture rigid and straight. It would soon become clear that her anger would not be abated by words alone…He had shamed her. Wronged her. It would need to be corrected…”If you don’t know who the people are in this dangerous game we play…You are of no use to my crown.”
“Of no use, to me.”
The future Queen of Avarice froze, when the assassin dared to raise his voice at her. Her back remained towards him as he spouted off line after line of drivel. That was all it was, to her. The past did not define him…It was the present, that she was concerned with. His priorities had changed, since the days he’d left roses on her pillow. Sighing softly, she shifted her weight gracefully, turning back towards him for a moment as she tried to find a gentle way to put it. “Lord Wolfram…Your tendency to underestimate my family is insulting.”
“Have you been entrenched in the assassins life for so long, that you’ve forgotten that my Queen Mother Isabeau is psychic? It would never be so easy to break into my chambers…The guards knew you were coming.”
Her footsteps continued as she headed towards her bedroom, two of her handmaidens scurrying after her quickly—Silently. They’d left the room, not her quarters. Pausing, the little princess turned hypnotizing eyes back towards the Marshal, her gaze fierce due to the cold tones he used with her. How incredibly disrespectful. “Oh…”
“ And if you raise your voice to me ever again…I will have your head mounted on a plaque, like a prized beast.”, she threatened calmly, her voice sweet, like small silver bells. She turned back towards her private chambers leaving him with much to consider.”…And your body will be fed to the dogs…”
“We aren’t children anymore…If you cross me—It will be the last thing you do.”
-----------------
The feminine lump under the covers twisted and turned as Fandral burst into the bedroom, features shielded by the dim light. She sat up, watching the Marshal try to prove his worth…It was a pity, that the Princess wasn’t here to see it. He truly was dedicated to making good on his mistakes. She remained silent for a moment, rolling the words that her Lady had bid her to repeat, as they traded clothing.
The handmaidens did not stay the night with the Princess…They had their own quarters. The two woman that had followed her, had already left the same way they’d came. Fully veiled and covered in fine silks from head to toe. It helped her Lady’s cause, that all of her female guard looked just like her…The same, soft features. Similar golden hair. The only difference, was that their eyes did not change shade with their mood. “Indeed, I can see the flame.”
Fandral would know in an instant that she was Cere, and not Dominique. She hadn’t tried to vocally imitate her Lady. The Princess had bid her not to. “…I have a message from our Lady.”
She paused, clearing her throat.
“Perhaps, you are not as clever as you think you are, Marshal.”
-----------------
Dominique watched the flame with a heavy heart, wearing the golden brocade of her hand maiden. It wasn’t as flattering as the gown she’d worn earlier…but it would be enough for her to slip by Fandral. Briefly, she wondered how he would react to the switch. It was the only solution; she’d been able to come to quickly…It would ensure that the Marshal’s focus wasn’t split…And the little child of Fortitude would serve as a bloody reminder of his duties. Warily she eyed the burning abbey…Feeling a fleeting, phantom pang of worry for Petyr Cromwell of Justice. Had he not been in this area, when she fled the presence of the Lustian housecarl?
She hoped, that he was ever as intelligent as he’d seemed to be. Hoped he hadn’t lingered.
Anger fueled her, brought by a tepid sense of duty as she searched for the blond harlot…She found her, quite near to where Fandral had left her. Probably still re-lacing her scarlet robes. To interfere with the duties of a Marshal was punishable by death, as so many…Many things were.
The future Queen of Avarice wasn’t afraid getting her hands dirty. She was afraid, of disappointing her family. Of losing her crown, before she’d even worn it. Of her Kingdom falling into obscurity because one man, couldn’t keep his hands off of one woman. It was a social gaffe, and an affront that she could not ignore.
Just as with Dorian and Lucien Black…There was no mercy for this woman now.
A gust of wind, strong enough to rip a tree from its rooms blew towards Alexandria Greene, sending her face first into the deepest part of the water that led into a pond. Dominique’s eyes retained the luminescent color of a freshly plucked pearl as a sheet of something clear spread out on the surface of the water. Her footsteps took her across the layer of glass she’d created, allowing her to watch the girl pound on it from beneath the surface of the water.
Ever careful eyes flickered this way and that, checking to see if there was anyone in the area.... Thankfully, everyone seemed distracted by the fire. Not by the woman, standing on the water, deep in the gardens.
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way, ma cherie”
She could see why Fandral enjoyed her…She had fire in her eyes. A will to live. But without air…They both knew, that it was only a matter of time. Firming her resolve, she willed the glass to be unbreakable. Willed it to keep hold…To keep her under. “It’s a shame to waste such beauty…”
Dominique looked down…Watching her hits against the glass come less and less, through a cloud of flaxen hair. She was growing weaker. “Don’t fight it, Lady Alexandria…Take the water in. Breathe deep, dear heart…”
“Let it take you away…”
Eventually, Alexandria Greene stopped moving. Dominique sighed and closed her eyes…Willing large rocks into existence. Rope wound about her dead body, and the rocks brought fourth from her imagination weighed her down… So her body wouldn't be found, for quite some time.
Brilliant blue eyes glittered as the woman disappeared from sight. It truly was a sad waste…But she was indeed lovelier in death, certainly, than she’d been in life. She would always remember the way her hair swirled like ribbons in the water…The way her gown stilled, when she finally stopped fighting the inevitable.
The little queen to be turned back towards the shore, the glass falling away and disappearing into wisps of smoke and sparkle… A fire blazing at her back while the abbey burned…No one would have seen Alexandria drown. Dominique waited in silence…Knowing that she’d died alone, and confused. Unsure of why she was being targeted. So she remained…
That, and to make sure that Alexandra stayed dead.
For all intents and purposes, she seemed to be watching the abbey burn...There was a beauty in that as well. The way the fire leaped towards the sky.
A small smirk touched her red lips...Her Great Uncle would be -so- pleased that someone had set his castle on fire. Pleased in a way that.. She was gladdened, she had nothing to do with it.
 
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 26, 2012 6:12 am
Henriech walked away from the burning abbey without a second glance. It wounded him, to bring such destruction to hallowed ground…To spill blood on a holy floor… But his cause was all that mattered. The ends justified any means, and victory was so close, he could taste it. He stayed to the shadows, ignoring the shouts and panic that started picking up as the flames from the church grew higher. Haven was dead, Reginald—Dead.
Two less claims to the throne of Fortitude…He was two steps closer. His next target was John Greene. The long lost son, the forgotten one, or was it the mute one? The lost son, was not so lost that Henriech was unaware of his existence...Nor was the mute one so mute, that he couldn't find him--Even in silence. When staging a coup, it was his duty to know all of his targets. Stalking through the corridors, he’d found out from an mealy-mouthed scullery maid, which quarters were reserved for the Greene’s and their court.
Coming to the first door on his right, he paused only to wrap the hand Haven had nicked in their duel—Before bending to slightly to pick the lock. It was childs play, truly. One would think that for a realm that housed a God…His defenses might be a little less pathetic. Closing the door silently behind him, he kept his hand near to the hilt of his sword…The quarters were eerily silent, except for the sound of a feminine voice humming.
It took him a moment to recognize the flaxen haired, blue eyed Miranelle Greene…Adopted ward of the Greene’s…Given a lesser title, to keep her in good standing, due to her unfortunate health issues. It was said by those that knew of her existence that she was kept alive, by somehow cheating death… She’d been born still—Silent.
But somehow she lived, and breathed.
“Lady Miranelle…”, he drawled lightly, causing the woman to jump and nearly drop her needle point. He walked around the setting of chairs, coming to stand in front of her. “How fortunate it is, to have fond you…”
Drawing his sword from its holding place, he swung it once, twirling his wrist in a graceful arc. “I am in need of assistance…Where will I find John Greene?”
Mira opened her mouth but no sound spilled fourth—Lovely eyes glued the to the steel that was far to close to her for comfort. She did not know how this man had entered her chambers, or why. “I-I wouldn’t know… He could be in the castle, s-somewhere.”
Her throat dry, she swallowed hard, hands digging into the arm rests of the curved chair she sat in.
“I’m afraid that isn’t good enough, little Mira. Time is of the essence… I don’t have enough at my disposal to hunt for him, room by room… Where is he?”, Henriech repeated, moving closer to level his blade at her pretty white throat…Perhaps that would give her the motivation to disclose the man’s location.
“Sir, I swear it…I swear…I-I truly do not know—I don’t l-leave my quarters often…I can’t. I-I’m very ill. I-I—”, she spoke quickly, her eyes closing tightly as she felt the blade touch her skin. Tears fell freely…She was not a warrior, just a simple child that the Greene’s had taken pity on. The blade didn’t cut her, not yet, but she could hear her heart hammering in her head…The sound of rushing blood making her feel faint. Her chest felt tight, a deep seated pain making it hard for her to breathe as she started to panic. “I-I haven’t even laid sight to him yet this day.”
"The other one then. The elder one."
"I know not! I've not seen either..."
Henriech’s handsome face contorted into something less than pleased…Slowly, he drew the sharp sword across her skin, causing a thin crimson line of blood to spill from her. It wasn’t fatal in the slightest, but her eyes filled with fear. Lowing the blade he made another line. “That’s twice you’ve lied.”
“I am n-not lying. I’m not. Please…I d-don’t know anything!”, Mira begged, holding as still as she possibly could. Her breath came in short gasps, and her arm had started to feel a little odd. Numb, almost. “I—Please S-Sir…Please I-I—” He dug the blade in a little deeper, and she cried out…
Only to fall completely still as her head lolled back against the chair. Eyes wide open. Unseeing.
The assassin paused, expression a little perplexed. He’d not cut her deeply at all…Just thin, hairline wounds…Just enough to mar her beauty. Not enough to cause her to lose consciousness. He started at her for a long moment, waiting to see if this was some kind of trick…After a moment, he noticed that she wasn’t breathing…Reaching for her wrist, he cursed when he felt nothing.
In all of his haste, he’d forgotten how sickly the girl was. She’d died of her heart failing, no doubt.
His face contorted for a moment, but instead of losing his composure, he kicked over an end table with a vase on it… She was only collateral damage. The means were justified by the end.
Henriech would simply have to find John and James Greene another way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2012 7:30 am
Elliot White
Location: Hallways
Rank: Architect of Fortitude
"I am just a man. Not superhuman.
I need a hero to save my life.
A hero will save me just in time."
Elliot nodded along with Livia as the necromancer agreed with him on the talent Claus held for storytelling. While Elliot would be lying if he said something about the jester didn't totally creep him out, he seemed like a pleasant enough person. The story he had told was one that was expertly done, and despite how dark it was at times, it was quite entertaining. For now it seemed the man would remain something of an enigma to the architect.
As Claus responded to his companion's praise, Elliot was amused by how he seemed to be both humble and not so humble at the same time. "The praise was well received Master Jester. As a fellow artist you can believe me when I say so." While his art was of a different nature, he could recognize other art. Granted he still preferred his own art form. There was just something about potentially building things that lasted centuries. It was a sure way to be remembered for ages to come.
Elliot raised an eyebrow as the jester suddenly stopped as if he were sensing something. "Something wrong?" Not asking anymore as suddenly the man held up a hand as if to halt any further inquires the architect fell silent. The voice in which he delivered the news was in sharp contrast to the content of the news. "The defenses have fallen?!" What of the princes of Fortitude? Being of service to the crown, while not as a soldier, the man was concerned. If he could find them maybe he could help protect them. He did used to be a soldier.
Letting Claus speak of going and hiding in fear it was not something Elliot could do. While he wasn't a soldier anymore, being from Fortitude meant he was very courageous and he couldn't exactly let something foul befall the future of his kingdom. "I am afraid I cannot hide Master Jester. If we are falling under attack then I must seek out the royal family of Fortitude. I cannot let them fall to such an attack as a former soldier. I would ask you to help me find them, but I understand such a thing is not probably not something you want to do. If either of you would help me though I would greatly appreciate it." Ending his request he started thinking about getting a sword. "Which way is the armory?" Hopefully the royal family was still safe.
(OOC: Not pleased with this...)
"And if it kills me tonight, I will be ready to die.
A hero's not afraid to give his life.
A hero's gonna save me just in time."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2012 11:38 am
Location - The Abbey
|1077|
Heir of Humility |I am the son and heir.
Of nothing in particular.|
Ryan winced somewhat as Lorelei's voice flooded into his mind again. 'I have ventured into the abbey already milady. It is... a lost cause. I did happen upon two bodies inside though and got them out. One was the King of Fortitude and he is safe. The other...' The heir couldn't finish as a realization of who it had been washed over him. Haven? He was dead? And he had been in the abbey with both Lorelei and his father? There was only one thing Ryan could think the two would be doing. His heart ached at the thought. They had been seeking to get married. That much was obvious. It was true then, Lorelei would be with another. Part of Ryan had hoped that there would be some way... but no. 'I-I am sorry milady.' Burying his head in his arms tears flowed out for the death of his friend. Looking over at the covered body, Ryan wiped the tears away.
He needed to stop. Unrequited love never ended well and even if Lorelei had felt the same way, nothing was on their side. He knew Fortitude's laws and everything from the alliance his own kingdom shared. Ryan knew what would happen. He needed to start acting more like a future king should. He was a man in service to a higher power first and foremost. His own wants and desires took a back seat to everything else. Sighing at the thought and looking up the heir wondered how his sisters were doing. A symbol of their faith had just been burned down, if Naedira had witnessed it Ryan was sure she wouldn't be taking it well. "Nae, I am sorry my dear sister. Sorry for being a fool." Breathing out the words barely above a whisper the sound of an approaching man drew Ryan's attention.
The heir of humility didn't recognize the man, but as he yelled out father it was easy enough to recognize him as a Greene. Letting the man move to check on the King. Ryan spoke quietly. "He's fine." As James moved to check on Haven, Ryan swallowed a lump in his throat. What was there to say? As James addressed him Ryan looked towards him and nodded faintly. "It's no problem we are allies after all. I need nothing in return for helping someone." Giving James a sad look he let his head fall back to the ground as the prince left. A sigh followed. Wherever James was destined Ryan was content to remain here for the moment. There was no need to move.
Reginald sputtered, expelling what smoke was still left in his lungs, but it left a burning residue that hardened his voice.
"Thank you." He managed between wheezing, his fist coming up to cover the harsh coughs as he struggled to catch his breath.
His eyes watered, but even in his blurred vision he knew who had saved him - the form that could only belong to Ryan Riley, the future king of one of their greatest allies.
Gazing to the side as the King stirred Ryan immediately shot to his feet and moved to the King's side hearing his thanks. "Of course your majesty."
"Haven is dead." There was a note of permanence in his tone, the frayed edges of his temper still prominent as he made the declaration.
Ryan looked down as Reginald spoke again. "I-I know your majesty. I retrieved his body, but there was nothing left to do. I am sorry for your lost." Ryan knew what it felt like to lose a family member. For many years Madelyne had been lost to his family. Even with her return, there was still a wound in his heart that was left by her departure.
"Bid me one more favor," The angelic man asked, searching Ryan for an agreement as he realized just who had been checking on him. "Follow my son... James will need to know what comes with being an heir."
Grasping at the heir to help him up, he leaned heavily on him, his wings much too singed to be of use to make flight easy.
"Though I already owe you for my life, I will ask this of you, because you are a man to be trusted."
Hearing the King speaking Ryan listened as the man asked to make another request of him. "Anything," hearing what his request was Ryan recognized that James was to be the new heir of Fortitude. "Are you sure your majesty? You are not in any kind of condition to be moving and if the attacker was to return..." Ryan knew the attacker would not return. Reginald had been left to die in a burning abbey, he would be presumed dead. Helping the man up as he grasped at Ryan, the heir listened as Reginald called him a man he could trust. Eyes softening Ryan couldn't exactly refuse his request and therefore nodded. "Yes I will go follow your son. You owe me nothing in return, however, your majesty. Stay here and I will return to help you to the infirmary."
Hearing the heir's words Reginald shook his head no weakly. "I will come with you, I need to speak with my son."
Nodding Ryan briefly wished he had some kind of container to provide the man some water, but for now he would have to deal. "Okay that is probably for the best. I will see about getting you something to drink as well. We just need to find you something to drink out of." Moving with the king and following after James, it wasn't long till they happened upon him. Face full of concern as he moved to join the group Ryan took in who all was present, all the while doing his best to support the king. They seemed to be discussing something that was angering James. Not much thought went into what exactly that was. "Prince James, his majesty wanted to speak to you." Then turning to address everyone, Ryan cleared his throat again. "Would anyone happen to have something I can place water in for him?" His eyes fell on Lorelei and they softened for a moment before he let the glance continue back to Reginald. The situation was hardly ideal.
Reginald looked at James still rather tired from the whole ordeal and using Ryan as something akin to a crutch. "James... we need to talk about your brother."
(OOC: King of Fortitude added with mod approval.)
|I am human and I need to be loved.
Just like everybody else does.|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 9:11 am
 A lady with a violin,
Playing to the seas
Hearken to the sound of calling
I tied myself to the wheel
The winds talk to my sails, not me
Come to me....Come to me... Somewhere _____________________________________________________ there my fate revealed...
I hear but how will I see? Kingdom Lust Rank: Youngest Princess Location: Outskirts of the Forest. One from Lust benefited from the simplest of gestures – touch. Those who fed on their sin, wanton and desire... easily relaxed against the close proximity of another; Lorelei was no different. As soon as Cat scooted closer, the frightened girl eased a little, alleviating some of the tension winding in her shoulders. Petruccio too gathered close, concern marking his features. For all that Richarad Gavini had bade everyone to stay away from the siren, Lorelei inevitably and irrevocably drew them in, akin to a moth to a flame. Their house carl had been just one of the people caught, between orders from the king and a saccharine girl, though not truly snared by the promises of her aria. She appreciated his company, but Cat was right – someone needed to check the abbey. Haven still remained in there with the killer.
And the way he sounded when he'd touched her mind... he thought that he'd lose the fight for his life. Eyelashes swept over her cheeks, the dark hue contrasting prettily with her fair skin as she blinked back the silver that threatened to spill.
Their housecarl too, had a point... the girls could use his protection. What with their enemies being within reaching distance, unease twined through her – this was to be their safe haven, a promised land where the Creed's bound forces could not hope to prevail. And yet, she'd seen the evidence of that falsehood with her own eyes, witnessed a perilous battle betwixt her husband's sword and the intruder's. She searched Cat's amethyst eyes for a sign of how to proceed, wondering yet if it were safe to send a guard away.
Ryan's voice crept within the crevices of her mind, and Lorelei ceased to breathe as he delivered the harsh blow upon her heart. ~Haven...~ Despite what he'd said, there could still be hope that he'd been the winner, that the heir to Humility had pulled out that of their attacker. She searched for the tiniest hope that Haven had prevailed, but was left desolate.
The heir sent her his condolences, and Lorelei chewed on her lower lip. ~Tis not that you could have done more. Had I made more haste, had I a stronger will...~ More courage. Perhaps she could have made a difference. But it was much too late, and there was naught she could do.
So bereft with the loss of Haven, Lorelei nearly missed the strange man who approached them. She tensed at the tone of his voice, exasperation as he addressed her, inquiring about what transpired. He too, would likely resent her as much as his relatives, which left her with little to look forward to in the future. Too distressed to leash the melodies that readily flowed from her tongue, the princess had more questions than answers. “It's true then?” The siren asked, her heart sinking, a sad symphony accompanying her words. “Haven is gone?” It was a few moments before she could muster any sort of words, her grief reaching new heights.
“A man killed the priest, just as King Reginald discovered what Haven and I had done... He tried to hold him off, stop him until someone could come to our aid.” She said, speaking of her late husband. “I did not know the assassin's name.” Her thoughts, as time passed became more collected so that she could postulate such an answer, but even so it remained a jumbled mess, missing pieces that James could likely fill in. The pair had gone to the abbey to exchange vows, and had been caught just a few seconds too late. For just a few minutes, she'd been a Greene.
Another pair approached their growing group and Lorelei's silver tears spilled readily onto her cheeks. “Your majesty, I tried...” But the fight had been mostly one sided to begin with, and her apology would never be enough. “I was just too late.” Without realizing it, her siren stretched toward them, seeking comfort through her song. Her amber eyes darkened as she stared at the man who now held her fate – Haven had said it was the family's duty. And her idea of them fulfilling that duty put images of the convent into her head. Soon, she would be locked away, with no true method to communicate with those she cared for. Of that, she was certain.
Though many sought to answer her call, Lorelei couldn't help but wish they had come sooner, that they could have stopped the massacre in the abbey. That feeling didn't flee when her eyes stole upon that of Micah, who knelt beside them, stating the youngest woman's name in a blanket of concern. Tears only spilled faster at the sight of her – unable to explain once more what had happened. Instead, her grasp on Cat tightened, needing her more than ever now. Dante followed right along, and she couldn't help but think this was ill-timed for a Gavini reunion. “I wish I knew.” She whispered in response to his question. Everyone wanted to know the identity that she couldn't give. “I'm sorry.” But it was muted, and she doubted anyone would even register how truly sorry she was.
* * *
Reginald couldn't help the glare that fell on the small woman, obviously still bitter about her existence, but as he'd promised himself, he sighed. Just because he had to do it, didn't mean it couldn't be begrudgingly. Coughing before he could say anything, a shaking hand fell on his son's shoulder. "James..." Gods, he hated doing this. "Just before your brother died... Lorelei became his wife. I realized the ceremony just seconds too late to stop it."
While those of the sinful realm might not understand what this meant, Fortitude's laws would dictate the tradition - and James would know exactly why the king thought it so important to tell him. He stole another glance in Lorelei's direction, his expression souring as he did so, and then searched his son for a reaction, the way his eyes stared, all but saying "She's your problem now."
[[Oddly Oafish Commentary:
I apologize for the quality of this post... It's rushed. ]] The siren sang so sweet and watched the sailors go down, anyone would drown
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2012 3:43 pm
x Location: Room, then hallways. 
In the city, unprepared
Run and hide, stand and stare
Building's crumble in my head
Wave a flag, raise the dead
The room had grown eerily silent of late; save for the occasional rustling of paper, naught could permeate the quiet within the prince’s chambers, which rather pleased the young man who’d propped his person so haphazardly against the bedpost. Nikolai had made quite the mess of his bedsheets, first from feeble attempts at resting away his frustrations, later from switching positions to keep his limbs from numbing whilst he perused the book beneath his palms. A fantasy, of some sort; odd that he’d been reading it for such an impressive stretch of time, and yet if asked, couldn’t have listed the plot of it to save his soul. He bit his lip; the words had started to blur, and Nikolai realized that he’d not turned a page in some time. The sheet of paper marked beneath his thumb remained unread still, its stark white pages bearing the truth of the matter, the excuse to keep his silence and stay barricaded from the rest of the castle. Nikolai Bascov had no want to entertain the other guests with any more of his family’s escapades, nor look upon the livid face of his betrothed; the silence felt a great deal more pacifying.
-A silence soon broken by the muffled noise of boots hitting flooring, distant somehow, but solid; the tell-all sign of his own twin brother’s arrival to disturb the peace. In death, that seemed a favored form of recreation for the previous heir. Demetri was clad still in the regal silks he’d perished in, a lush green tunic embroidered with glistening silver… although where in life they had last been bloodied, death sought to clean them; to press the material smooth and clean the fabrics until the silver shone brightly, as if they were newly donned. Funny how his mind had apparently opted to spare his twin the shame of looking dead.
’You’ve been sulking for too long, Brother.’ Demetri scolded; the way his lips thinned when he was frustrated only served to make him appear even more uptight, ’You’re a fool if you believe that hiding here until your parents depart will accomplish anything.’
”And yet it’s been working so well.” Nikolai complimented the statement with a turn of the page, in attempts to look invested with what he’d been reading again, ”If they have need of my presence, they’re like to send for me. Until that time arises, though, I’d prefer to spare myself the misery of their company.” Another page turned; he shot Demetri a cheeky smile.
The latter twin relinquished a bristly sigh, but lingered still, much to the former brother’s ardent chagrin. He’d never been one to back down from an argument with his brother; death hadn’t changed that. As the living prince’s mind perceived it, mortality hadn’t humbled Demetri much at all. ’It’s unbecoming to hide in your rooms like this. What will the rest of the guests think?’
”I was under the impression that I’d made my apathy on that matter rather clear…”
Demetri’s eyes became slits, and, speaking again, his tone fell thick with anger, resonating still with the authority only a true heir could possess, ”This is folly, brother. It’s unhealthy to stay hidden away like this; think of your own cousin. Rosalie went mad whilst shut away in her rooms—“
”Oh, and we wouldn’t want me to lose my wits would we, Brother?” Sometimes it felt like his own mind hated him nearly as much as everyone else; the prince lent his eyes to the ceiling, dismissive, ”I’m in such pristine mental health already, aren’t I?”
To that, the illusion of his twin gave no reply, save to walk to bed and loom over him like a very aggravated, and very aggrivating shadow. It’d not be pleasing to remain here with that shadow at his heels, Nikolai ruminated sourly. He deposited the book at his side. Solace wouldn’t find him with Demetri in tow, which he imagined his brother had well-realized. ”Very well then, but where would you have me go? It shan’t be near my parents or Milani, I promise you that…but if you’re so damn adamant about my appearing normal, a stroll doesn’t sound too horrific.” The frazzled, living prince rose from his sheets languidly, in a show of how little he thought of Demetri’s request; He made a brief, half-assed attempt to smooth his tousled hair with a hand and, though failing to manage the best of it, moved to straighten his clothes (A supple white tunic which hinted at nobility, though would hold any flavor of royalty to it without the emblem of his house embroidered at the breast) and make for the door. ”You might want to consider the fact that talking to myself in public doesn’t shine a very nice lighting on me either, Demetri…” He shot the ghost a pointed stare, receiving his brother’s arrogant smile in return, ’I’ll be as silent as death, Brother. It shall be as if I’m not here at all.’
’Would that it was true…’ The heir of Prudence thought bitterly, escaping out into the hallways with no particular destination in mind.
((Please note, for those who aren't already aware: Despite what Nikolai believes, Demetri is, indeed, a real ghost. He can only be seen/heard by Nikolai, any characters with a sixth sense, and other ghosts.))
Only love worth dying for
Together when the sky falls through
A flash of red, I'll fuse with you
Everyone I come across, in cages they bought
They think of me and my wandering, but I'm never what they thought
I've got my indignation, but I'm pure in all my thoughts
I'm alive...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2012 5:14 pm
 ∮The Countess∮ I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined Their footsteps carried the smallest echo as they meandered through the halls, searching for the correct door. Ever patient, Milani made no outward appearance of being aggravated that nothing seemed to stay in one place within the walls of the castle, though it often caused her the tiniest bit of ire. She quelled a shudder when Richard mentioned the dangers of this place, remembering well the torture chamber in the catacombs, and how utterly terrifying the whole endeavor had been. “The events our hosts concocts are entertaining, if I would not be involved though, I'd be eternally grateful.” In the courts, it was typical for those of value to spectate – the knights, guards and sometimes peasants wishing to prove themselves would frolic in the fairs, while they sat on the sidelines. She much preferred that view.
At his words stating she was kind, Milani simply shook her head, a shy smile touching her lips. “I shan't think ill of someone that I barely know.” In her station, it remained imperative to be wary, but it would do little good to explain that to the prince. “It's not prudent for someone to fall into the snares gossip oft creates.” The countess said reassuringly.
They spoke of women's roles throughout the kingdoms, and Richard couldn't deny the truth in her statement. Women were viewed as lesser beings to the more masculine race. In some areas, they were viewed as objects of beauty, things to be doted upon. Nikolai would never fall into that category. But nor would she be the subservient wife he'd expect. Rather, she'd fight him tooth and nail for her voice to be heard – her opinions much too loud to be caged within the constraints of their marriage. ”If I might be frank?” Milani questioned, her soft eyes bidding for him to allow her such a deviance from what was expected of her. “While I am most fitted to my kingdom and love Prudence with the deepest part of my soul, I sometimes wish that women were viewed upon as equals there.” Sighing, Milani brushed off her own admission and allowed a hollow laugh to escape her. “But who am I to say such things, to view my station as a quandary?” Swallowing what pride she had, Milani played her part well. “Such things are for Nikolai to decide.”
If there were any innuendos in his statement regarding finding happiness within Veritas' castle, the countess had missed it. “Then I shall keep my eyes peeled, in hopes of sharing your optimism, my lord. Perhaps we shall find exactly what we're looking for during our stay here.” She doubted it, severely... especially since her every other thought fell upon her impending marriage to the failure of the Bascov empire.
He'd soon be king; that thought alone was enough to make her queasy.
The woman shook her head in agreement, but knew too well that she was trapped. “I'm second in line for the throne regardless... the king's reign will end upon his own declaration to pass Prudence onto his son at the mark of his twentieth year. Were something to happen to Nikolai, my parents would marry me off immediately, and my husband would take the throne.” Which was why she was here. Either way, Milani DeWinters was the future queen of Prudence. But the intricacies of such were likely not common knowledge, even if it was easily accessible to any from another kingdom. Ambassadors would likely not have made such a production of that in many years, and Prudence remained a quiet kingdom...
The only way she would have gotten out of this, was if Nikolai married another. And somehow, she doubted very much that he would, when it'd been he who requested her as a wife, and then treated her like a pariah – as though she had no right to seek refuge the way he had.
She merely laughed at Richard's remark that he was usually correct, finding amusement at the hints of his sin. And for once, she was serious when she hoped he was.
* *
“Actually,” Milani admitted sheepishly, “A lot of it is very dry... but many have said history repeats itself, and I should like to know how other kingdoms compare to my own before my coronation.” Rather, she'd like to know what she was up against. Wars were always panting at a kingdom's edge; it'd be foolhardy to believe that during her and Nikolai's reign, they'd be in a peaceful loll. And since her fiancee likely had no interest in actually ruling a kingdom, she needed to absorb as much information as possible. “Mayhap it will make me a better queen.” Study, study, study. Prepare.
“I've read a few fairy tales in between my more studious subjects.” Milani said, a genuine smile gracing her features when the prince admitted he'd find those much more enthralling. Admittedly, they were. “There are a few books here that I believe are as old as Veritas.” The countess mused, pointing to a set of shelves on the far side of the room. “Those have the most interesting stories, I've found.”
For now, the countess remained unaware of all the commotion with the assassins on the loose. For now, the woman was content, blissfully ignorant while she and a prince enjoyed the reservations of serenity found only in the quiet pages of a book.  ∮Milani DeWinters∮
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 11:10 am
Amarenth Soren Hyuga Kingdom: Envy
Rank: Knight
Location: Kitchen with Maelona and one stranger named Sokar Cross through the night
I looked down and lost my way
my light (()) The knight nodded slightly when Maelona mentioned how she did not know how to cook. “Hmm, maybe someone can teach you sometime. Might come in handy after all.” She wasn’t necessarily saying she should be the one to do it. After all, Soren wasn’t much of the teaching type. However, if someone asked her and her mood was not in the pits, she might be willing to help. It just depended on what they wanted help with, and how they went about asking for it. “Though, if you want, you can observe what I’m doing. As long as you don’t get your hair too close of course.” She assumed Maelona had to be smart enough to figure out that getting hair near fire would equal a burning head of hair. Something the knight was not in the mood to deal with as her dark blue hues looked over her supplies.
Making sure she needed as she nodded slightly again. “Well, do you have any particular dishes in mind? I’m no expert, but I know how to cook a few things.” Due to living in Envy most of her life, Soren only knew how to make Envian dishes. Her mind did recall her mother and father showing her some Wrathian and Humilitian dishes when she was younger. But, attempting to cook them from memory now would likely just end up in disaster for both her and Maelona. “Otherwise. I was just going to cook what I normally fix.” Which usually consisted of something quite simple and quick to make. Not usually wanting to deal with all the measuring of food when she did not have to. Though, at least here her options were not restricted to whatever unlucky animal found itself a victim of her sword.
A light chuckle leaving her lips at Maelona’s response to her jest. “Good to know I have not encountered someone with a liking for raw food.” There were some people that had gotten close though. Preferring their meat as least cooked as possible. Though, sometimes, the people that ate like that reminded her and the others exactly why they liked their meat cooked. Especially when said people found themselves six feet under due to food poisoning. But, the knight did not linger on that long as Maelona stated that she wanted something simple. Good, that meant she wouldn’t have to get elaborate with her cooking today. “Alright. I think I have something in mind.” Her hands gripping the piece of Lamb she had found as she started to prepare the equipment so the Lamb could be cooked properly.
But, as she looked over the Lamb piece one more time to make sure it hadn’t gone bad, a woman’s voice(Lorelai’s) echoed within her mind. Causing her to almost drop the meat as she gripped her head. What was the woman(Lorelai) saying? Something about the abbey? The knight had heard that there was an abbey nearby the Castle. But, Soren had never personally visited, since she wasn’t very religious herself. Though, why was the woman(Lorelai) so distressed over it? The voice seeming too distant for her to be able to make out more than her possible location. However, as quickly as the woman intruded into her mind, it quickly left her. Her hand placing the lamb piece down as she shook her head.
Dark blue hues soon blinking as her hand continued to rest against her forehead. It was so odd hearing someone’s voice in her head, when she was not used to such a mental intrusion. But, if it hadn’t been for the fact that it sounded so loud in her head, Soren might have put it off as her hungry mind tricking her. However, never before had her mind ever produced such a loud pleading voice in her head. At least, not while she was awake. Though, as her head turned slightly in Maelona’s direction, she wondered if she had heard it as well. Then again, if Maelona hadn’t, she might appear of not sound mind. But, the knight couldn’t shake off the feeling she wasn’t making it up. That the woman’s(Lorelai’s) voice in her head wasn’t some form of cruel trickery.
Before Soren could ask though, her body tensed up at the loud sound of something hitting the ground. Her head turning towards the three people nearby(Sokar, Micah, and Dante). Now that she was looking their way, the knight could see the sound had come from the fallen cup. The liquid that poured out from it appeared to be a similar color to blood. But, the knight knew the likely chances of that actually being blood were quite low. Thus, that meant it had to be wine. Though, Soren found herself shrugging slightly at the realization. After all, while she was no addict to such beverages, she did not see the need to waste them. For they provided a way to relax on days full of tension. However, her thoughts did not linger on that long. Not when she couldn’t help but notice the odd behavior on the woman’s part(Micah).
Why was she in such a sudden hurry? Her eyes looking at Maelona from their corners before looking back at the two. Wondering if Maelona happened to be just as puzzled as she was. But, through the hurried words of the woman(Micah), she learned the name of one of the three. The larger male specifically. Though, she could not say she had ever heard the name Sokar before. Then again, most did not hear the name Amarenth either, which she refused to go by in most cases, or Soren. Thus, the knight couldn’t really talk as the other male(Dante) seemed to shoot up as well. Eyes blinking as the two left the kitchen as if the kitchen was on fire! Confusion plastered all across the older woman’s face while finding her sights set on Sokar. Wondering if he could explain what just happened.
“Can’t say I’ve ever seen two people rush off like that for no apparent reason before.” While her tone seemed to be joking, her dark blue hues conveyed a different set of emotions. The swirling of her eyes showing how all she wanted was some answers. “Then again, I can’t say I’ve seen someone as large as yourself.” Even the knight had to admit that Sokar looked much larger than most. Also, the fact he seemed to hold himself differently made her wonder more about the odd male. However, such curiosities would need to be held back for later. After all, whatever reason caused those two to leave was much more important. For why else would people rush off like that when they had a nice cup of wine to enjoy? “But, why you are so large is not important. What is, is what just happened.”
Her finger pointed towards where the two former occupants of the room had been moments ago. “After all, unless that wine was terrible, I don’t see why they would have run off so quickly.” There was a possibility they were reminded of something important. But, the only problem with that was no words were spoken between the woman(Micah) and the male(Dante). Just a glance seemed to pass between the two before they left. Unless they whispered words that she could not hear. Though, now she was just overthinking this, shaking her head to get her to stop doing that. “So, that leads to this question. Do you know why they just ran off like the kitchen was on fire?” The knight tilting her head slightly as she leaned against the table. Her eyes remaining focused on the odd male. Brought to my knees
Though the darkness surrounds
it pull me down,
I do not sink beneath
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 9:30 pm
Ɉϕɧɳ Ӎiҫɧɑϵɭ Gɍϵϵɳϵ Kingdom: Fortitude Rank: Prince Location: Entrance Hall with Belle of Prudence and a ghostly princess named Cecelia, then Outside the Castle again with a stranger(Petyr) White walls surround us
As we sleep among the dead ((Hope you don’t mind John talking to Petyr, Lilith.)) The angel nodded slightly at Belle’s reasoning. “I wouldn’t know either.” For who would be arriving at this late of hour? Either way, the servants acting up made him a bit edgy. Not enough for it to show across his face. But, his fingertips moved across each other slightly. Showing that there was something up with his mood as the angel decided to get his mind off the servants. Soon asking if Belle about her search for Gregoir and Milani. Her word choice in the matter almost amused him. While he could not say they had been left here to rot, it sure did feel like they had been disconnected from the outside world. For while Veritas had been a very interesting host, none of the obvious dangers of War had come here. Leaving almost the impression that peace lingered in this place of obliviousness.
But, staying here had showed him just how foolish that thought process was. He just hoped no one would fall under the impression that this place was completely safe. If they did, they would find themselves quite disappointed when they found out that was not the case. “I am sure they shall appreciate that greatly.” Then, he offered his assistance in Belle’s search for Gregoir and Milani. Though, as he knew before hand, if she was not willing to accept the help, John would not press further on the matter. Besides, the angel did need to check up on Tao and make sure he was doing alright. However, the moment Belle seemed to approve of him helping her, the angel pushed that to the back of his mind. After all, John was sure Tao could take care of himself and didn’t need someone looking after him all the time.
“Understandable. There have been some incidents here that could warrant such concern. But, I shall fill you in on our way to finding them.” It would take a bit to recount how some of the royals had already died here. Though, only Asuna Bellerose had died by any odd means. However, just one odd death was enough to cause some caution within anyone. Belle would learn about that royal’s fate soon enough as they prepared to go upstairs. Before they could though, John heard Belle’s name being from nearby. His head turning to see something quite odd heading their way. After all, it was not everyday someone saw a ghost coming towards them. A ghost that Belle seemed to identify as Princess Cecelia’. “Princess Cecelia?” Damn his lack of knowledge of all the royals as he had to keep himself from stepping back.
For no person wanted to anger a possibly evil spirit. But, the ghost seemed innocent enough. It almost seemed like Cecelia didn’t even know she was dead with the way she was acting! Almost causing him to gain a sad look on his face. Did this mean that they needed to help her move on? John had no idea how they could do that, never having performed an exorcism in his life! Then again, encountering ghosts was not exactly a daily occurrence either as Cecelia continued to speak. Neither Belle nor him were able to get a word in edge wise as she started to ask about her brothers and Milani. He wished he knew the answer to her question. However, neither him nor Belle could give her an answer. For they had been about to search for Gregoir and Milani before Cecelia showed up.
Before the angel could say anything though, Cecelia seemed to focus on him. Her accusation literally made his eyes widen. Normally, it would have also caused his cheeks to heat up. That did not happen though since the obvious shock written across his face carried with it confusion. Confusion as to how he should react to this situation. Should he feel embarrassed that she thought he and Belle were lovers, even though they had just met? Should he feel offended that she thought he would get together with someone he just met? Experimenting not counting! Should he just not feel anything and just do his best to ignore that comment like it had never happened? That seemed to be the most pleasing option as Cecelia started to move away.
Causing Belle to follow after her, which was not surprising considering it seemed Cecelia might be one of Belle’s charges. Though, the ghost soon turned back around, finding himself almost gulping at the expectation of being embarrassed again. Luckily, Belle seemed to be the target this time. However, John didn’t see anything wrong with her outfit. It was simple and effective. What was wrong with that? The angel didn’t have any time to ask though as the ghost started to move away. Soon hearing an apology from the archer. “It’s alright. At least you found one of your charges.” A friendly smile on his face as he watched Belle follow after Cecelia. Once he could not see them anymore, the angel took a deep breath. He could live without being put in that kind of situation again.
Though, as his silver blue hues looked down the stairs of the Entrance hall, he noticed the servants were still moving about the entrance hall. While it had lessened since he and Belle had entered, it still seemed quite odd. Then again, maybe he was just overthinking things as he moved down the stairs. Deciding it would be best to not go and find Gregoir and Milani without Belle. After all, even he would think it weird if a royal from another kingdom told him a knight of his kingdom was looking for him. However, John would keep his eyes and ears open in case he saw one or the other. For there was no reason why he couldn’t do that at least. Soon at the bottom of the stairs as his ears heard servants gossiping nearby. Saying something about a fire and an abbey.
Could they be talking about the abbey within the Castle grounds? John had visited there a few times to pray to the Gods that some of Fortitude choose to worship. But otherwise, the angel had not made the place a frequent get away from the Castle. However, curiosity sparked itself inside of him. Causing him to open the entrance doors and head outside once more. Now that he was outside, silver blue eyes could catch sight of orange glow off in the distance, as well as the plume of smoke in the same area. Though, the angel noticed the orange red glow in the sky seemed slightly dimmer than he expected. Also, the cloud of smoke seemed to be not as thick as he thought it would be. Did that mean the church had been burning for a while?
He stood there for a few moments, trying to figure out the best course of action. After all, if the fire was still raging, someone needed to go put it out. Unfortunately, unless there was a water source nearby, he could not do it. For while it would have been amazing to wield the ability to manipulate water, John did not have such magical abilities. Not that the angel would exchange his abilities for elemental magic. He was perfectly content with his telepathy and being able to fly. Speaking of which, his telepathy was about to come in handy again as he noticed someone approaching the castle. Someone that he did not recognize(Petyr). At least, not right away. A small smile appearing across his face while he worked to establish a mental connection with the male.
“I hope you do not mind the mental intrusion. But, I must ask you something.” Even though the darkness would most likely hide his form, his hand raised up anyway. His finger pointing towards the evidence of the fire in the distance. “Is it true what the servants are saying about the abbey being on fire? For I see evidence of a fire….Yet I have not approached it myself for fear of getting in over my head.” A bit of sheepishness appearing across his face as he looked back towards the male(Petyr). “After all, it would be unwise to step near something like that, and not know anything about it.” Whether or not the male(Petyr) answered him was up to him. Either way, John was going to investigate to see what was going on. For it was not everyday fires engulfed parts of the castle after all, and fires of any kind were not a good sign. We can chase the dark together
As the sky returns to grey
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 01, 2012 6:31 pm
All I want is something realSomething I touch and can feel Cat.
Location: Forest.
╔════════════════════════════════════════════════════╗
Cat remained kneeling on the ground as more people continued to flock around them. She also continued to blithely ignore them, though as she focused on her younger sister, finally getting her into a sitting position though she let Lorelei lean up against her since she didn't quite seem up to supporting her own weight yet.
Besides that, Cat felt her ire rising with each repetition of the insipid 'What happened?'. She felt her eyes narrowing with each new person who came in, demanding information from the one person who was clearly least in shape to give it. With her and Petruccio on scene when everyone else got there, there was no reason to keep harassing her sister. A small growl leaked out of her throat as James spoke, also addressing her sister.
However, before she could snap out a nasty retort to those gathered, her older sister made an appearance. At that moment, Cat would have given anything for the power of teleportation. Lorelei and Micah still weren't on the best of terms but now wasn't the time to point that out. Cat met Micah's eyes over Lorelei's head and raised her free hand to rub her temple. Her other arm was around Lorelei's shoulders providing what protection her slight frame could. Though of course what one needed to fear from the Heir of Lust was not physical force but rather the fires she had a tendency to create. She responded to Micah in the same way that the original contact had been made, sending Micah only what she deemed strictly necessary at this point. Not out of a sense of needing to keep things secret but rather out of a desire to protect her other sister. ~She was marrying Haven in the church, and the assassins popped in to say 'hello'. The abbey is burning, Haven and Reginald trapped inside last I heard. Everyone is too busy standing around interrogating our sister instead of doing something ******** useful.~
She shifted her attention to Petruccio next, going back to ignoring the others. She tilted her head to him so he'd know she had heard him as she turned his words over in her head. When it had just been her and her sister present, it hadn't been a large concern but with this many people showing up in response to Lorelei's distress call, she had a new concern; mob mentality. It really didn't take much to bring that side of the human mindset to the fore. The hand rubbing her temple lowered, rubbing the back of her neck, a nervous habit she had thought she'd outgrown. Another low growl, this one of frusturation. "No, you're right, given the current situation, that's really not the best move," her eyes swept over those present thinking that one of them might make themselves useful as muscle in that capacity but was finally able to swallow some of her ire as Petruccio answered the over done 'what happened' questions in a matter of fact tone.
With each passing moment, Cat felt her patience slipping a bit more. They needed to get Lorelei inside and away from all this. But it was going to happen, not yet because the next one to join this odd gathering in the woods was Reginald and Cat felt her spine stiffen upon seeing the man whose treatment of Lorelei was so very like their fathers. She looked inside and found her power there, dormant but more than able to be awakened at a moments notice. Thankfully such a choice did not need to be made, for the man seemed to tired to be antagonistic towards the siren. Cat continued to let her gaze wander the group, amethyst eyes narrowed, though most her actual attention remained where it belonged, on Lorelei letting Petruccio handle the majority of the safety side of things.
╚════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝
I'll hold it close and never let it go
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
