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 Posted: Tue Sep 28, 2010 1:42 pm
♈Ɉɑsφєʀ, Ӄɳɩɠɦʈ ɵϝ Шʀɑȶɦ♈  ┏━━━━━━┓
-- Where am I? Group 2
┗━━━━━━┛┏━━━━━━┓
--What is my title?
┗━━━━━━┛┏━━━━━━┓
--My kingdom?
┗━━━━━━┛▂▂▂▂▂▂I am from Wrath▂▂▂▂▂▂
▂▂▂▂▂▂Don't anger me▂▂▂▂▂▂ ┏━━━━━━┓
Oh Orange
Cookies
┗━━━━━━┛
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 11:24 pm
 Group 3
Heir of Envy, Princess of Hubris -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At Lorelei’s retorts, the Banshee bristled, her ire rising as a cruel smile danced its way about her features, ”Oh, and here she is- the prim, proper little princess of Lust. It would seem I was mistaken about you- here I was caught believing you thought yourself too good for gossip. That is the way you carry yourself, it seems,” Her hands laced themselves together, rising to grace her cheek as she feigned a dramatic pose, a mocking song trickling from her lips, ”So very proper, and sweet, the very picture of regality- Hah!” The girl righted herself from the pose, expression drifting back into one more sober- granted, Lorelei’s speculations about the young princess weren’t off by any stretch…yet, still, the accusation that she’d attack Trey so soon after Asuna’s death was an insult to what little character the girl possessed; she wasn’t willing to let it slide so easily. In reality, the mention of bringing harm upon her eldest brother now caused her hairs to stand at attention, and a shudder to creep over her spine- not that she had any plans of either showing or admitting to the fact. Instead, she focused any hurt or ailing thoughts the words caused into what was easiest for the prideful woman to convey- anger, cruelty, ”You can feign being the ‘good princess’ all you like, but I see beneath your little act. I see the temptress,” Sara’s attention made an eager segue to Ryan, catching the enamored expression he cast her, ”Who makes such idiots of men. And how dare you accuse me of being cruel when it was your own sister who-“
Alas, her elder brother seemed content to swoop in at that point and cut her statement off, bidding the two women to make an attempt at being civil with eachother throughout their oncoming trials. Haven, too, seemed to make an attempt at adding calm to the situation…and Sara fought to keep her eyes from casting themselves to the ceiling at the woman’s subservience; it wasn’t as if she weren’t used to seeing such an act from woman…and, indeed, the behavior was considered quite appropriate amongst their kingdoms. Still, it wasn’t a trait that she herself had ever found desirable…unless, of course, someone was displaying it towards her, rather than vice versa. The princess didn’t believe herself either superior or inferior for her sex- she felt herself superior simply because she was. Gender roles be damned.
But there were certain people which garnered at least a few ounces of respect from her, and Trey had managed to make himself one of them. So under the heaviness of his gaze, the girl huffed and crossed her arms; the very picture of a spoiled child, but at least a quiet one. For the time being. Nathaniel, too, had approached their group, a delicate half-smile tracing the lines of his lips as he looked each of them over. He stopped, and bowed, and named the Princess of Lust as a friend. Peachy, she thought to herself flatly, another one.
His next words were directed at she and Trey, and Sara lowered her gaze from him a little bit; she’d heard a lot of this lately…”Thank-you.” She muttered quietly despite the fact, dipping into a slight curtsy- the action was stiff, and forced…but at least an effort had been made. Sara still wasn’t at all happy with this situation. But at least with Haven’s spell about, Ryan might be a touch more sufferable. If she had to watch him make a fool of himself for that wretched little siren for the whole duration of their journey, sparks would soon fly.
Nathaniel watched the situation settle between the two women, the loathing between them tapering off into something at least slightly more subdued- not that he truly minded either way; he had no goals in this journey, so the heir wasn’t entirely worried about how their incessant bickering might hinder them…though keeping the Banshee’s cries at a minimum would, admittedly, be preferable. He produced a quiet nod at those in the group who had welcomed him, coming to stand closer to the others so as to make it clear that he’d become a part of their party. Altonair and Evony would perhaps still be disappointed, but he felt an expected amount of apathy at the thought of their disdain. They’d either grow used to his absences or eventually demand that the patriarch of their family make himself more accessible to them…and once that proclamation was made, he’d have to comply in the interest of keeping up his act around them. A situation he might have to deal with later, but as of now, it mattered little.
Lorelei uttered a brief ‘thank-you’ into his thoughts, and he relinquished a visible shake of his head at her words, ~There is no reason for you to suffer through her company entirely on your own…though I suppose you’re not exactly alone without my presence, are you?~ His mental tone was a touch playful, icy hues landing on both Ryan and Haven, ~Our friend, the good heir of Humility, has become quite taken with you, hasn’t he? He noted the spell the heir of Fortitude had cast over the prince, and didn’t for one moment consider asking for the same measure to be taken. No, such a thing wouldn’t be necessary…he was starting to realize that, at least. What she did to the heir of Humility and what she did to him were…different, because what ailed Nathaniel couldn’t make Ryan’s feelings possible for him. And though Haven’s spells might temporarily return Nathaniel to the feeling of numbness he’d become so accustomed to in his life thus far…what Nathaniel felt now, as a result of the siren’s song, was…interesting. He’d come to realize, with the help of his experiments with Ryan, what the feelings were. Now there was only the matter of deciding which state of himself he preferred; which battles he would rather wage.
 …Perhaps Lorelei would notice the cold intensity with which he studied her features then, but Nathaniel didn’t pay it much thought as he danced between his options- keeping the small…the skewed, and bastardized emotions she spawned and utilizing them as well as her…or ridding himself of it all, and returning to his formal normalcy. Decisions, decisions…
Somewhere through the haze his introspection induced, he heard Haven assert that they should start moving, and then a moment later Sara groaning,
”Yesss, let’s get on with it, already! Come, Ryan.”
The young princess set off in a lithe stride towards the catacomb’s entrance, paying no heed to worries of food or lighting- let the others in the group sort those details out if they so wished; she could see in the dark, food wasn’t an immediate necessity, and death was only new beginning. She could only hope that Ryan would choose to comply with her movements and keep at a good pace, or they’d soon be smacking back together in a most violent and unpleasant fashion. Though, as if taking cure from her own thoughts, a new woman came flying into the room towards her brother, her heels dragging noticeably against the smooth flooring as she fought through the motions; it was just as Sara had done earlier, only much more flurried. The girl watched the scenario unfold, a series of chortles rising to fruitation on her lips at the sight of it all, ”Hahaha! So much for not being paired, dear brother!
Nathaniel came to a stop as well, snowy brows raising a touch in reaction to the woman careening into the heir of Hubris. He maneuvered himself to offer a hand to Bella, figuring Trey would feel embarrassed by such a gesture and might prefer to regain his balance without assistance. The invitation to help the woman up would only linger for so long, however, as Nathaniel’s mind was already quite set on moving to the catacombs, ”Are you alright, Milady?” Winter-painted eyes flitted to the visage of Trey, tone apologetic as he spoke to the man, ”I suppose my own independence will be needed nor more than ever…”
He heaved a sigh, as if frustrated, and –supposedly having helped Bella to her feet-, resumed his steps towards the entrance to the catacombs, ” Sir Haven is right, we should make haste.”
Sara watched the heir go, her laughter abruptly sobering- she didn’t fear what whatever might lie within the entrance gates, but she opted to wait for her brother to regain himself before she went any further. Unless, of course, Ryan chose to drag her.
The setting within the doorway was what could be typically expected of catacombs; it was dark, the air about them both humid and stale. No living thing had entered this place in quite some time, of that Nathaniel was sure. He took a torch from the rear wall and moved it in the direction of a few abutting corridors; a fruitless attempt to peer down their aisles and see what might reside within each one…but, as expected, he was only met with more darkness; the sconces on the walls just enough to cast a derelict light over the flooring and walls, but not so vivid as to showcase any clear details. Nathaniel’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze turning to meet any of the faces which might have assembled near him now, willing to let someone else pick the group’s poison. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Posted: Sat Dec 11, 2010 12:03 pm
Location:Silver's test thread
Kingdom: Wrath
Rank:Priestess tickxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtick tickxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx tick tick tick xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtick tick xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtick xxxxxxxxxxxxxxtick"Dreams are bad...when all they do is leave the truth behind...” .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text.
.text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. "Made with love by The Bunit"
.text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. tick tickxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtick tick.. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtick  xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxtick...xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx...tick
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Obnoxiously Off Coda: It keeps messing with my ticks. ╚═══════════════════════╝ tick xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtick tick tickxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtick
xxxxxxxxx tick?xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Posted: Tue Dec 14, 2010 11:07 pm
 ▶ When I'm free, when my sun has set ▷ Release my soul forever, I'll have no regretxxxxxxxxx
▶ ▷ ◀ ◁ ▶ ▷ ◀ ◁ ▶ ▷ ◀ ◁ xxxxxxxx
 .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text.
.text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. "Made with love for Patiently_Waiting by Bunit"
.text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text.
▶ ▷ ◀ ◁ ▶ ▷ ◀ ◁ ▶ ▷ ◀ ◁ xxxxxxxx To be free ◀ xxxxxxxxxxxxx
◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥
OOC:
◣xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◢
Kingdom:Patience
Rank: Clergy
Location:Silver's Test thread
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Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 8:41 pm
Location: Bunit's Test ThreadxxxxxKingdom: HubrisxxxxxRank: Countess
 xxxxxxxI guess I should be ashamed....text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text.
.text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. But I forget to be vain Well I did the best I could I guess xxxxxx xxxxxxBut everything just bleeds xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx✿OOC✿:
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Posted: Mon Dec 20, 2010 5:23 am
╔════════════════╗
Ƞaedira Ȉllesande
╚════════════════╝ Kingdom: Humility
Rank: 1st Princess
Location: Sitting Area off the Main Hall   Naedira had spent the better part of three days holed up in her quarters… Not for a lack of company, or the want to be alone… But simply because three days later, after the Catacombs, she was still exhausted. She ventured out now and again… Meeting with her beloved brother, or some of the new friends she had obtained… But after the excitement grew too much for her, she would drift… And eventually excuse herself out of necessity— To keep from looking weak or foolish. Power and magical prowess she had, in spades… But it came, with a price…
One that she was willing to pay… If it meant keeping those around her safe from harm.
The dark haired Princess of Humility had been lucky. While her once gorgeous blue gown had been reduced to bloodied tatters and strings, in her haste, her wounds had seemingly healed perfectly. There was not a mark on her face—Surprising, from the ghastly crescent shaped gouge there had been in her flesh… She had thought for sure, that she would carry that mark that made her smile widen all the way to her ear for the rest of her life. But no… The only sign of their trials in the catacombs was a thin line about an inch long across her collar bone. It was so light, one could barely tell—Unless they stared, for a great length of time.
Again… She felt so vain, to worry about such things… But she was indeed a Princess, set to be wed to a man that didn’t seem to have any visible flaws… So she worried, perhaps needlessly about these things. She had no want to bring shame to her kingdom.
Currently the fey woman walked down the main corridor from her quarters, her steps quick, but not rushed… A princess never, ever ran—They were never late. They arrived exactly when they meant to. Everyone else, including her King, her father, was simply early. She had her hair pulled up in a mass of falling waves and curls, eyes outlined just faintly with kohl… Her head held high, despite how tired she was, she was ready, and waiting to greet her father.
She’d missed him, his quiet guidance and firmness… There was a comfort to having her family in the same place that couldn’t be replicated. Her father, and brother. Speaking of her brother… She wondered if he had gotten the summons yet…Or had rolled out of bed yet. Things couldn’t have been easy for him as of late…But she knew that he would, just as she was, would be very happy to see the King of Humility.
Though part wondered… About Altonair, and his wish. The God King Veritas did not seem particularly…Trustworthy. Naedira had lost most of her respect for the man upon their trip to the catacombs. His reputation in her mind would have been less tarnished, if Evony had been left out of it. She wanted to see the Prince of Envy that she was betrothed to…Not for that reason, but because she wanted to know that Veritas had kept his word on something.
Anything…. Without twisting it to his own sadistic benefit.
Naedira wanted to hear of the Kingdom, hear for her own ears about the war that she had never told Ryan about. There hadn’t been time for one. For another… She was afraid to tell him, before Lucien told Dorian…
She was afraid to tell Ryan at all.
He was the heir, and her elder brother… But at times, it felt like she was the older, and he the younger. That stemmed from the Humility children taking care of each other over the years. He was her best friend, both in name, and heart. She wanted to protect him… And he would be, so angry with her for this… But there was little to be done about it now… A small hole gnawed through the pit of her stomach at the thought of ill relations with her brother.
She descended the staircase with a poised grace that befit her station, her cool features taking light when they landed on Alec Riley, King of Humility. The Princess swept into the perfect curtsey before the man, as would be considered proper…Despite the fact that she was his child. Ryan was his favorite—Being the son, the elder, the continuation of his line.. She had always understood that… But that didn’t mean she loved him any less.
Naedira felt a hand under her chin, urging her to rise—And she did so with a faint smile, noting the fondness on the King’s face. Her heart swelled, to see that he had missed her. “It hasn’t been more than a few days—I know… But it feels as if it has been much longer, since I left Humility my Lord… If it isn’t too juvenile for me to say… I’ve missed my home… And I hope, rather selfishly, that it misses me.”
“The days have been long… Longer than you know, daughter. Our halls are not the same without its children—You both have been greatly missed.”, the King of Humility returned to her, his eyes crinkling just faintly in the corners. He reached out and touched her face, just for a moment, before he offered her his arm in a way he had done many a time… “You look so much like your mother, more and more every day that passes…”
Naedira took the arm he offered delicately and led him towards one of the large parlors on the first floor of the grounds. She informed one of the servants as they went, asking them to tell Ryan where they were—And to bring the King of Humility refreshments. No doubt he would be tired from his travels… The ride to Veritas’ lands was not an easy one.
“So…”, the King trailed off, glancing down at his daughter, “Tell me about this Princess your brother is set to wed…”
 
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Posted: Mon Dec 20, 2010 11:51 am
  
Ladies and Gentlemen.... Claus Revelle
Royal Jester of Veritas Where am I?: Test Thread ~*~ What am I up to?: Testing myself
....Boys and Girls Hahaha..
Hahahahaha....
Hahahahaha....
Hahahahaha....
Hahahahaha....
"My humble audience....welcome! THIS is a test to see how I fare in this realm. After so many years, I make a return! I return to the outstretched arms of my lord and master, Veritas! I..... RETURN."
Let's have a hell of a time, shall we?
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Posted: Fri Dec 24, 2010 8:38 am
 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬●۩● .•´¸.•´¨¤ .•´¸.•´¨.•´¸.•´¨¤ .•´¸.•´¨ xx"...Clack, clack, clack goes my fingers
against my gilded [cage]
but I cannot leave,
"Well, little angel, why can't you leave?"
You may question,
"Well, it is because
I cannot fly..." .•´¸.•´¨¤ .•´¸.•´¨.•´¸.•´¨¤ .•´¸.•´¨ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬●℘яιℵcεşşxxσƒxxƒσятιтυ∂ε●ℓσcαтισℵ: testing thread    Text text text text text textText text text text text textText
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Posted: Sat Dec 25, 2010 8:00 pm
  xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"Ϯҕε ɠѳȡ ȿlȧӯεɍ" Kingdom: Veritas Rank: Dragoon, lesser noble Location: Bun's Test Thread .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text. .text.
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Posted: Tue Dec 28, 2010 1:49 am
Kingdom: Patience Status: Heir Location: Locaton Doing: Test
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm all of nothing  {{Oval Orange Cats: New Code}}
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Posted: Fri Jan 07, 2011 11:54 am
x Location: Test Thread
In the city, unprepared
Run and hide, stand and stare
Building's crumble in my head
Wave a flag, raise the dead
Nikolai's steps were fast as he made stride down the corridor adjacent from his quarters, hand rising to stifle what was sure to be a rather elongated yawn. Yes, he had slept in a touch later than usual, and no, he didn't care at all that his "brother" was feeling rather cross about it. Of course, this was all in tandem to their usual bickering at eachother, as Nikolai had not been informed of the impending visit from his parents, and so by proxy Demetri had not been either. Were he at all aware of it...had he even the slightest inkling to what was about to happen, his thoughts would have been wrapped up amidst far deeper and more serious matters than what they were now.
"Wonder where Cat ran off to..." He mulled aloud, ignoring the slew of comments which were sidling his way from Demetri; something about how, given his status, he should accustom himself to a more rigid sleeping routine. Yeah, not happening- not as long he had any say in the matter. His spectral twin, dressed in the same garb he'd worn on the day of his death (ever the stark contrast to whatever Nikolai chose to wear, for his tastes were obviously far more regal- or stingy, as the living prince of Prudence often liked to state), turned a narrowed gaze his way,
"Lost, I presume- that girl is utterly daft, and why you so willingly choose to associate with her is beyon-," The identical twin to the prince, invisible to all but him, seemed to pause for a moment in a ponderous manner before rectifying his previous statement, "Actually, I suppose it DOES make some amount of sense; peas in a pod, you know."
Nikolai responded by lifting his eyes skyward- in the end, he wasn't all that thankful that his group in the catacombs hadn't made it to the maze of nightmares. He was already seeing his worst nightmare, anyway- the dead twin that his mind didn't, for whatever reason, want dead. Oh, and Milani too- though she'd made herself scarce lately, which led the prince to believe that she'd been less than pleased with how he'd handled himself during their ventures. Big surprise there.
Of course, thoughts of the catacombs still brought a slight chill to his spine; the memories of the pain he'd felt in the torture room had waned, but were still very much in existence and could often become vivid again if he chose to mull on them for too long. What was worse, was the situation with Asmoda; how she'd emerged from the room bloodied, and not with her own blood...and without Caleb in tow. They hadn't had time to discuss the situation, but he planned on doing just that when they next had a moment alone together; they needed to fix the crazy in her, and fast. He had enough to worry about in taking the throne to Prudence already- adding a knight that liked to acquire different names and kill people at random would not help the situation.
He was thankful then, that his pondering had kept him from aiming a retort at his brother, for a servant approached soon thereafter and bowed low before him, "Your knight sends a message- that your parents have arrived, and to...consider this a test of courage. She warns you...not to disappoint her, mi'lord." And then, apparently struck in awe by the message herself, the servant girl bowed lower, rose and scampered off, leaving Nikolai and Demetri to stare aimlessly down an empty hallway.
What? No. No. Nononononononono! They couldn't be here- that was the only saving grace to his being forced to reside in this castle; that he didn't have to put up with the scorn they spat his way daily! It was enough to dwarf every insidious plan Veritas had for them. But if they were here now? Then this place was hell, and it had been Nikolai who had been murdered and not Demetri.
The figment of his brother seemed just as in awe to the news as Nikolai, though not nearly as horrified by it. He turned to stare at the prince, one brow arcing upwards, "You're going to make a run for it, aren't you?.
Hell yes he was- courage be damned. Asmoda's potential disappointment in him be damned, he was NOT going to deal with his parents. Not today, damnit!
Although no sooner had the prince turned to run, when another voice struck out from behind him, this one not nearly the same as the servant who had before spoken to him,
"Lord Nikolai, your presence has been requested in the Entrance Hall."
Features paling, he turned to see the strange, red-headed servant woman who had earlier thwarted Tantra's spell towards Sara Bellerose...and was miffed to find that, yet again, she'd dropped her guise as a helpless slave; acquiring the hardened features of something much more powerful than just that. Katriel smiled, the effect having no sufficient pull over the stoic cadence of the rest of her face, "Refusal, I'm afraid, is not an option."
Well, that settled that, didn't it? He wasn't so daft (despite what Demetri might say to the contrary) to think that he could get away from this woman, or otherwise convince her that it was just better he not see his parents.
Looks like we'll be seeing mother and father after all. Demetri said lightly, a chiding air finding its way into his tone. But that wasn't what caught Nikolai's attention- rather, it was the flit which Katriel's eyes took in the fake man's direction which held his thoughts.
A pause, and Nikolai managed to stammer out, rather stupidly, "What...are you looking at?"
Katriel managed a pause in response, her gaze sliding back to Nikolai; she was silent for a moment, as if thinking over something,
"Nothing, my lord. Only the view out of the window down the hall, as I find you rather boring. Now, shall we be off?"
Oh. Well, that was a little more believable than what he thought had transpired, anyway. "I see." the prince replied flatly, only just managing to squelch the the suspicion which rose into his chest at the strange woman, "Yes then, I suppose...if you're certain that I must go."
"Quite certain, my lord." And she commenced with her movement, Nikolai following closely behind with Demetri (who was doing his best to keep a straight face) at his heels. The walk wasn't nearly long enough, and when they emerged into the Entrance Hall, Nikolai felt all of the wind leave his sails, heart falling as he did into a slight bow before his parents, "Mother, father." He mumbled, keeping the greeting terse so that they wouldn't notice the adamant displeasure laced within his tone.
He'd not even thought about the etiquette concerning his betrothed- that it might have been better to wait for her arrival so that they could enter together. After all, Katriel had left him some distance ago with only the idle warning that she'd be watching to make sure that he arrived; he could have waited for her to show up, but that might have illustrated that he was alright with their pairing to eachother, which he still wasn't.
((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 and any characters with a sixth sense.))Money fuels the fires of war
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...
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Posted: Mon Feb 14, 2011 4:04 am
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 5:02 am
 This is where she'll be
Dorian is evil, watch out for her. Or not...that'll probably just be easier for you.
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Posted: Mon Feb 21, 2011 3:42 am
  Envy shoots at others and wounds itself. Envy prevents joy. | Altonair Wood |
Prince of Envy  *~Location: Test Thread -- In the company of: Aeon~*
The sound of two men laughing rose out from the test thread, the once empty sub-forum now filled with some sort of noise. The newly imagined Altonair and puppeteer Aeon clinked their glasses of wine together again, and toasted to another successful post format. Gone was the drawing of Altonair, now replaced with a much more realistic and tangible form.
"I'll admit that the posting style is a bit similar to the previous one you used, but then again there was really nothing that bad with it. In reality, anyways, the only thing that really needed updating was my portrait. Still, I will cherish my memories of my previous form. It was great while it lasted." the elven prince spoke formally to his puppetmaster, Aeon. "I'll miss the long hair and smug look, but your new look suits you just fine. And, since I can find more pictures of your model, I can update your profile on the fly with more pictures to fit the scene. Now that's convenient!"
Altonair smiled, then took another sip from his wine glass. Let's hope that he continues to act this way and doesn't get any funny ideas.
Aeon grinned evilly as Altonair continued to sip his wine.
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