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 Posted: Sat Dec 05, 2015 7:27 pm
[Um...well, you know how Nanuq doesn't want competition for his crown, and neither does Bera? Well, thinking how many of the nobles may not be "legitimate" descendants of the First Queen, and how a "legitimate" line probably exists; and of course those bears who are kind to heirs of the First Queen, but since almost all the nobles are awful bears who never interact with unblessed bears unless it's mating season or something, Nanuq and Bera aren't in any danger from them. And by danger, I mean in danger of a misguided movement within the kingdom to place a true heir of the First Queen back on the throne because the nobles are too corrupt to be rulers. That the First Queen became their leader because of her strength and kindness. So, it seems almost natural for our royal couple to issue a regicide of all heirs to the First Queen. For Nanuq, it would mean no bear will gain the "advanced" conscious needed to recognize, acknowledge, and desire the throne, so less competition for him. For Bera, it means the end of weaklings wanting a revolution of some sort. So it makes sense none of the nobles will acknowledge any trace of the First's bloodline in their own, and they would denounce any accusation of being related to the First and kill any family member who is a confirmed descendant to show their selfishness loyalty to the crown.]
Bera smiled and planted a quick kiss to his cheek, pleased he agreed with her suggestion. No one could call themselves a real bear without their name. "Yes, let's!" she laughed, letting her simpleton mate lead her into the crowd. Bera would bask in the praise and attention her return and her sons bestowed upon her.
Humbert could feel James staring at him, but chose to ignore him for the sake of their lives. However, it got to the point where Hum was fed up with the party and the staring that he turned to stare right back at the younger bear. "James," he gently said, giving the younger bear a soft look, "refrain from staring at me. Your attention must be on Their Majesties and their guests. A moment's lapse in vigilance is a moment where the king or queen, or the new princes, are killed by a misguided fool." He hoped James would be soothed enough to listen to him, though he never had a problem with someone not obeying him. Many bears in their kingdom followed his word without him having to say much. It was a perk of being such a bright and warm-hearted bear. Everyone trusted him so easily.
Justine smacked Miguel when he hid behind her, scolding him for his cowardice. "Don't say that and just hide behind me! What's a cub supposed to do? Protect you?" Going on her tippy-toes, Justine gave Miguel's cheeks a pinch. "Besides, Dima won't hurt you, right Dima? We all love you too much," she giggled as her brother nodded his head so hard, she thought it'd fly off.
Hunger gnawed at Armel's stomach and exhaustion on his mind. They had traveled nonstop to reach the royal court and ate so little to keep their strength up. When they arrived, Her Majesty had them sent right away for their fittings while she had a date with a blubber-filled seal.
It took all of Armel's training not to sway with the exhaustion as he danced with the daughters and sons of the nobles; and he saw Bernard was the same. But they couldn't eat, not unless Their Majesties ordered it, or if they were told by a noble or one of their cubs to eat. No, right now, Armel and Bernard had to dance the night away with the nobility, answering their questions and being perfect for Their Majesties. To be useful to them for that was the only reason for their existence. I hope we don't mess up. I hope it goes well. It needs to—Oh no.
A collective gasp filled the cavern. The world stood still for what felt like a hundred years. A noble had stuck out his paw too close to the dance floor and Bernard stumbled over it. Armel knew his brother would have easily recovered his balance if he had the energy, but he didn't, so he tripped and fell into Her Majesty. He tripped and fell; he caused the wine in Her Majesty's flute to spill on her expensive dress. Now the silent room was silent for the first time since Their Majesties spoke. However, unlike last time, a thick tension clung to the air like snow on his fur.
Then, finally, Her Majesty spoke. "Bernard, come kneel." His brother did as he was ordered because obedience was their number one rule toward their king and queen. "Nanuq, I believe our son has proven himself weak if he could not recover from such a stumble—"
—No, Bernard's just exhausted. He's hungry. We both are! It's not his fault. Please, have mercy—
"—Which is a sign of weakness, correct? Weak bears are not allowed in our court, and not in our bloodline—"
—It's not weakness! Forgive him. It's his first mistake. It's only a mistake, nothing more. Oh please. Please Your Majesty. Please pity him. Please—
"—So Bernard's punishment for his crime, for his weakness, is death. However, that will not suffice as punishment. No, where weakness is found in one, it will be found in the other—"
—No, not again. I don't want to do this again. We were so tired, she didn't mean to stumble. It wasn't her fault. It isn't his fault. Your Majesty, please pity him. Don't—
"—My dear king, what shall you say to a battle to the death, between our sons? If Bernard can kill and survive against Armel, he will prove it was only a momentary lapse in action that caused this crime. However, if Armel defeats Bernard, he will kill him."
No. Numbly, Armel focused on his breathing, kept his facial composure at neutral, and remained calm. On the surface at least. One. Two. Three. Breathe in. Three. Two. One. Breathe out. Keep head leveled. Don't blink too much or too little. Become a statue of ice and snow.
[That's what I was thinking. Also! I ended up searching for the age polar bears come to sexual maturity, so I shall present to you my data!
Polar bears come to sexual maturity between 4-6 years old. Most males don't get a chance to mate until they are 8-10.
This would place 4-6 years as the preteen and teen years, give or take, and a rapid period of growth for the cubs. Armel and Justine would go from 5/6 y/o kids to 10/12 y/o kids within the next year or so. Yikes.
From ages 8-13, it's like the late teens to early twenties when humans start reproducing.
After that, I would think their aging slows down considerably. So, taking that into consideration, I "recalculated" the bear-human ages:
0-3 = infancy to 9, depending on how well-fed the cub.
4-6 = 10-16, depending on how well-fed the bear.
7-13 = late teens to early twenties, depending on how well-fed the bear.
14-30 = mid-twenties to early thirties, depending on the health of the bear.
31-50 = 30's-60's, depending on the health of the bear.
51 and beyond = 60's+, depending on the health of the bear.
Poor James, but at least you remembered him! Also, Justine is younger than Miguel, but I think it's fine how things are turning out.]
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Posted: Tue Dec 08, 2015 1:22 pm
[ I do actually like that, I think that works really well. It's also possible that over time, especially if bears were trying to hide it, some may be related to the first Queen, and not even know it. ]
Nanuq was enjoying his time dancing with his mate and showing off all that he had that others did not posses, until he was jostled and he heard a heard a mutter arise. He stopped dancing abruptly, and looked to his mate to see if she was the cause. It wouldn't be the first time she had caused a stir, but what had jostled them? She normally danced flawlessly.
He noticed the stares were aimed at his wife, and that one of his sons had stumbled into her. Into his mother. Into Nanuq's Queen. Anger flared up inside him, that any cub of his should appear so foolish, it shamed him! His anger first was for his wife, did you not train him better then that?! But he could see fury rose in her eyes too, as she made their son kneel before them, and so he turned his heated gaze upon Bernard. He was embarrassed, to his core, that this cub -Bernard- who hadn't yet even earned his bear name, had shamed them at this first appearance at court. Nanuq could not think of a punishment good enough to quell his anger towards him. He wanted him dead and alive to suffer! He wanted him to feel his father's wrath and his disapproval! And the other cub too, he should learn from his bother's mistake! Learn to fear the very names of his parents! They should both-
"Interesting." Nanuq's raging internal storm paused from a moment at his wife's words, and he began to pace around Bernard, looking down on him. "Yes, clearly he is weak, to no fault of ours." Of course not, his parents were the strongest and smartest in every way. Their offspring's folly wasn't due to their genes, but still. Every so often good genes produced weak offspring. You must cull the weak from the herd. "And no son of mine will be weak. And so you both must prove to me which one of you is weak, and which one is strong."
He lifted his head from his cub to look out into the crowd. "Make room here, stand to the sides! We have a battle to watch!" The king made his way up the stage, ignoring his wife for the moment for the bloodlust he felt, and sat in a large golden throne. "The rules are as they are for any single combat battle. No one interferes. The fight is to the death. And anything goes." He sat back in his chair, and folded his hands together. "Oh, and one more thing, Bernard, Armel. Should you both refuse to fight, I shall kill you myself. Begin."
Abigail watched in horror at what unfolded before her. And what terrified her even more then the King and Queen's reaction to the simple mistake of a cub, was her mate Arcadius's reaction. His face widened with a smile, and with his massive head shoved her much frailer human body to the side, out of the way. She clutched her stomach in worry for what was now growing inside of her. If he found this kind of monstrous behaviour humorous, she was terrified of what would become of her own precious cub. I will not let you grow up to be like him. She vowed as she moved out of the way at her own pace now. I will teach you what true strength is. She looked up to see the King and Queen, as well as her mate thoroughly distracted, and she quietly slipped away, not wanting to watch cubs killing cubs.
At the moment, the fear of her own pregnancy, her own mate, was as much horror as she could handle.
James was a bit embarrassed to be caught staring, truth be told, but he didn't let it show. "Yes Sir! Right Sir!" He turned back to watch just in time to see the young Prince make a fatal error. He didn't want to watch the two cubs younger then he battle to the death. He didn't take any joy in it. But his job was to keep his eyes on them, and so he would.
Miguel held up his hands in surrender as Justine pinched him. "Hey alright! Alright! But I just thought, you've got a tongue sharp enough to protect us both- Yikes!" Miguel had to dodge a flying fish from one of the older bears in the kitchen who thought the cubs were getting too rowdy.
[Thanks for the info Snow! I looked at the age of my bears again, and decided since it's going to change over the course of the rp anyway, I just described what stage of life they are in at the start of the rp and where they'll likely end up.]
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Posted: Sun Dec 13, 2015 9:47 pm
[I'm glad you like it, I was worried you wouldn't.]
The moment Their Majesties spoke, the end was written for the two young princes. Humbert knew from the blood-hungry gazes of the gathered nobles, nothing could change the fate of the princes. One or both cubs would die. Their Majesties were heartless, whether it was towards their cub, a noble, or a servant. Nothing could change their behavior, though Hum believed if one was raised to be completely made of ice like Her Majesty, Bera, who in turn chose the vain King, Nanuq, as her mate, this was the only result. Hum remembered the Her Majesty's parents made their own cubs fight to the death if they showed any signs of weakness. Then again, Their Former Majesties didn't make their cubs fight when they were still cubs. Queen Bera and King Nanuq were a different kind of vicious.
Suppressing a sigh, Hum spoke to James, knowing this would not be a fight any sane bear wanted to watch. "Yasha, don't react. No matter what you see, don't flinch." It would hurt such a young bear to watch these cubs battle to the death. It hurt Humbert just thinking about it, much less watching it happen before him this minute. Already, the blood was spilling and the nobles cheering, placing bets on which prince would survive, if either did. The sight churned Hum's insides.
Bera seated herself in her throne, allowing a pitiful she-cub clean the spot of spilled wine from her dress so it would not set in. The last thing she wanted was a reminder of this night stained in her fine clothing. If she wanted a stain, she rather it be the blood of the bear she killed with her own fangs than good alcohol.
Silently, Bera watched her two sons battle. They hadn't even wasted a moment cowering for their lives, they simply obeyed, as she had taught them. However, it didn't matter at this point anymore. If they had done as they were taught, to never show weakness, to behaved, to perfectly obey her and Nanuq's commands, then they wouldn't be in this situation, now would they? Now, it was just a matter of time to witness the true obedience of her two sons.
Justine laughed, good and hearty, at their shenanigans. It was a lie that being a noble or royal was the greatest. Being a servant was true freedom, of the heart. Sure, the nobles and royals could decide where they'd go and if they'd live, but as a servant, they didn't have to pretend to be a snobbish a**. "You get what you deserve—Ow, hey!" Justine cried out, rubbing her head and making a face when it came back full of slimy scales. Adults were so rough. "Gross. Mama~!" Justine grabbed her mother's shirt and begged her to fixed her hair.
The moment the crowd parted at His Majesty's orders, Armel faced Bernard at its center. Cubs his age should be crying and begging for mercy, but Armel and Bernard knew doing such embarrassing things, such normal cub behavior, would result in their deaths, so the two of them could only gaze at each other stone-faced before shedding their clothing. Her Majesty would not want them soiling such finery for a death match; and Armel didn't want to deal with the fabric as he shifted into a bear. It was only a guess, but he thought Bernard was the same. Clothing just got in the way.
And as soon as the two of them were bears, they were at each other's throats, literally speaking, though it was mostly Bernard going for Armel's throat. Armel chose to dodge his brother's swipes. They went about this for five minutes? Maybe a little more? It felt like an eternity. Exhaustion was dragging at all four of his paws. It probably dragged down Bernard as well. It was only a matter of time before one of them slipped up.
If Armel got lucky, if he could survive, he could do it without spilling any—
Bernard landed a blow on Armel's cheek, deep and painless because what was pain in this fight? It was relief from reality. The copper scent of his blood filled his nostrils and his mouth as it dripped down his muzzle. He wanted to gag because memories were flooding back like an underwater current, but he forced himself to act the part of an angry bear. When injured, he must act indignant. He must roar and charge at his opponent with the intent to kill. Bernard knew this, of course he did, so he expected Armel to charge, prop himself up on his hind legs give himself some leverage, and then bring down his paws on his opponent's head. That's what most bears did.
Armel wasn't like most bears. He wasn't allowed to be because Her Majesty raised him and Bernard to be above most bears. This meant Armel had to be different for Their Majesties. When Bernard raised to his hind paws, ready to meet Armel's paws, he was in for a shock. Instead of clashing claws, Armel continued his charge and headbutted his brother in the chest. The sound of several ribs cracking made Armel want to cry, cry like his brother from the excruciating pain.
But no, neither of them could back down. Weak as they were, they could not let this be the end of the fight. Bernard certainly did not allow it to be. He was back on his feet before Armel had a chance to kill his brother, though he did manage to rack his claws through Bernard's right shoulder. Deep and bloody wounds. So Their Majesties won't do anything to his pelt after... And Bernard landed a similar blow to Armel.
The two brothers went back and forth for another ten minutes or so, until Bernard slipped in the snow slick with their mixed blood. The mixture of exhaustion and the slip gave Armel the opportunity to strike. The fraction of a second that Bernard was focused on getting his footing was the fraction that Armel finally seized his brother's throat. And he was glad it was this moment because as Bernard thrashed beneath his locked jaws, slicing an ear and his cheeks, Armel felt the strength in his legs give out just like he felt Bernard's heart give out.
Bernard twitched once, twice, then stopped. Armel regathered his depleted strength because that's what Their Majesties would want to see, and tossed his brother aside like a seal pup. He raised his head and roared his victory because that's what he was supposed to do. He proved himself worthy, the strongest, right? Wasn't this what it meant? Sacrificing your heart and your only remaining friend because you didn't want to die? Armel wondered if Their Majesties could noticed the pain in his expression was from him dying on the inside and not from his injuries. He wondered if they would care how much he suffered for them. He wondered why he didn't just take his down claws and cut his jugular like Her Majesty taught him and Bernard and...when she caught a seal for them to eat. Just stab his claws into his throat and let himself die. It was so much better than this.
But no, Their Majesties would stop him before he could try and then torture him by making him live. So he roared his victory and then bowed to Their Majesties, his gaze seeing nothing, but blood-soaked snow...and clothing. The clothing he and Bernard wore...caked in blood and snow, somehow. It would smell like Bernard...like the piece of himself he lost—
"Well down, Armel. You have proven your strength; and your bear name, don't you agree, my king?" Her Majesty practically purred to His Majesty, but Armel didn't mind. The scowl was gone from her face, he was safe. He didn't even want a bear name. He just wanted to find someplace to die.
Just let him die already.
[Your welcome.]
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 12:25 pm
Nanuq watched the fight without uttering a word. He was angry enough about the whole incident part of him had been hoping that both of his younger sons would die in this fight, or refuse to fight so he could word out his anger on their bodies. However if one was to win, as one did, he was glad it was not the son who had been the cause of all this. His interest from the fight only wavered once it was over, and his wife spoke to him. He worked so his voice sounded less bored and disappointed then he felt inside.
"Yes you have won the right to live, and the right to your bear name. You at least, are not weak." He didn't even stand from his chair as he spoke, such was his disappointment. With a wave of his hand, his once living son's body was brought before him. His face wrinkled up as he saw the deep gashes to the pelt. Not even useful in death. "Take it away."
Now the King stood and looked around at the party, not feeling the condescending superiority he had felt earlier, only frustration. "This party is over. The night has come to an end." He departed from the hall, heading for his bedroom, and not bothering to wait for his wife. With the mood he was in, she would be wise to not follow him, unless she was planning on helping him cure or dull his anger.
[I hope this okay. if it's not, the party can continue without him there.]
James did find it hard to watch. Any bear with a conscience would. One brother forced to slaughter another over something so stupid... And yet these were the people he was supposed to protect. His job was meaningless if he was weaker then they were. They could protect themselves, and if he became useless, he would be gotten rid of, or be made useless in some less pleasant manner.
So he watched and his only flinches were internal. James would be worthy of his station.
Abigail walked the halls, until she came to one of the exits to the outside, and she stepped into the cold air. Not caring about the dress her husband had forced her into she discarded it in the snow, the stepped out into the snow and ice, feeling the wind bite into her human skin. She looked down at the small bump that was to be her child, and moved a hand over it softly. In the distance, she could hear a victory roar coming from one of the bear cubs.
Looking out into the snow she shifted into her bear form, and felt her large paws touch the ground. She felt more powerful this way. More sure. She continued out into the snow for an icy walk to calm her.
Miguel laughed as Justine's face come up all shiny with scales. However, feeling badly about her catching the fish which was meant for him he stifled his laughs and went to her side. "Here, your mother's working. I'll help you." He pulled out a wooden bucket and flipped it on it's head to make a seat for her, and bent down. "My braiding might not be as pretty as your momma's, but it will be well enough." He hoped she accepted his peace offering, as he really wasn't that bad at it. Some of the older kitchen ladies had taught him to braid when he was little, they told him it would help him make 'lady friends' one day, whatever the meant.
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 2:06 pm
Bera rose from her throne to watch her king leave to sulk somewhere. She was not fit nor interested in a fight to rid Nanuq of his anger. It was obvious he wanted both their sons dead, and though she agreed since the fight lasted far too long, she was not interested in killing Armel. Standing tall, Bera commanded the crowd with her gaze. "And, before you all go, never speak the name Bernard again, least your tongues be cut out of your mouths. The name is banned until our deaths. Now go."
Bera beckoned to her captain of the guards, Humbert, and the strapping young bear beside him. Hmm...he'd be quite good in bed, after he's gained some experience, she thought as Humbert lumbered over to her through the departing crowd. "Sir Humbert, have this young guard find a few others and all go to His Majesty's chambers. See if he'll be willing to have a non-death match with them."
Humbert grunted, like a good puppet did. "As you desire, Your Majesty." Humbert turned to leave, but she was not finished with him.
With just a raised finger, Bera commanded him to stay put for a moment longer. "And, Sir Humbert, please bring one of your more experienced guards with you to my chambers. I fear I may need protection while I am still reeling from this disastrous night."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Of course, Your Majesty," Humbert replied, feeling bile rise to his throat. He understood very well what Queen Bera wished of the guards: Several to become King Nanuq's punching bags and himself and another bear to be...Her Majesty's partners of the night. He suppressed a shudder at the thought.
When Queen Bera finally dismissed them and left to her bedchamber. Hum knew he was soon to follow her, or risk his life. "Yasha, pick the stronger males to go against His Majesty, and don't choose any females," he warned the young male, praying he would not be killed despite Queen Bera's orders.
Then he was off to find his mentor, the current commander of the guards, because he was the mot experienced guard he knew.[Nah, it's perfect. Also, we can skip whatever happens afterwards with Hum and James. I do shudder at the thought. I've also been spelling Hum's name wrong for awhile. G and T are too close to each other on the keyboard.]Justine giggled and took a seat on the pail, letting Miguel do his thing. "Thank you, Misha," she cooed to him while Collette made a face at her. Justine returned the gesture with one of her own involving her frail human middle finger. Laughing at her sister's indigent look, Justine had a difficult time holding still for Miguel. "Sorry, Misha. I'll hold still from now on."
Justine thought Miguel was a very cute and she liked him more than a bit. Maybe she could be different than her mama and her grandma and take a good male like Miguel as her mate. Then again...Justine didn't like being held down. She'd see what the future held once she was of cub-bearing age. Who knows? Miguel could very well be a father by then.
And almost like the Fates playing a cruel prank on her, Justine's life changed.
Once Their Majesties ended the party, Armel was left alone in the empty cavern. Not one word was given to him and no one paid him any mind. He simply stood in the soggy pool of his and Bernard's blood. Bernard, a name he couldn't even say anymore. One more life he couldn't say.
And so he stood and stood until everyone was gone before he did anything. With no orders, Armel was left to his own devices. Glancing around the cavern, he thoughtlessly shifted back into his human form and donned on his blood-soaked shift. He picked up Bernard's clothing. He inhaled the scent, of his and Bernard's blood. His brother was gone now, to be thrown out somewhere because Armel ruined his pelt so no one could use it for anything. But Armel had use of Bernard's clothes, they would be his reminder of what failure smelled like. That's all. Nothing more. Their Majesties could not disapprove of it. It wasn't like Armel was keeping the clothes so he could remember his brother, remember his scent...remember his smile.
~~~~
Armel wandered the ice tunnels, sluggish and weak and cold. The blood from the fight was in his clothing was frozen and more blood from his wounds joined in. But he still moved on until he realized he didn't know the layout of the tunnels and was lost. Or his mind thought he was. His stomach, on the other paw, knew exactly where he was going.
A warm glow came from an opening—was it one or two? Maybe three. It was hard to tell, he couldn't see straight anymore either—in the long, twisting tunnels, and the smell of meats and fats wafted out. Almost. Armel almost reached it. Next thing he knew, it was black and still so, so cold. I'll sleep here... He sighed and curled up around Bernard's clothes, clinging to them tightly.
Annabelle had moved around the kitchen to ready another tray for the party, knowing her three cubs were safe with Miguel and the others—and hoping Miguel took a fancy to her daughters—when word got out the party was suddenly over. All their hard work, for nothing. Tsking at the fancies of the nobles, she decided to go inform the bears who already left to deliver new trays when her sense of smell ran into a thick wall of blood. The draft down in the icy tunnels had kept it from entering the kitchen, but now that she was out in the tunnels, she searched for the smell. At least that was the plan, but nothing ever went according to plan.
Right outside the opening to the kitchen lied a young cub, a year younger than her own, curled up in his human form...and wearing the clothing of the princes. He was covered in blood and wounds, and he was unconscious. Barely hanging onto life, even.
Annabelle didn't have the thought to gasp, she just scooped the cub into her arms and ran into the kitchen, screaming for help. For someone to help her save the prince's life.
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Posted: Thu Dec 17, 2015 8:28 pm
James really didn't fancy any sort of battle with the King, and it didn't seem like the King was in the mood for a non-death match. Still, James was in no position to refuse the Queen, so he bowed his head, and headed out to find some fellow bears.
[Time-skip]
Nanuq heard a knock on his door and it stoked the raging flames inside of him. He marched over to the door in his bear form, and slammed his paw into it, throwing it open. "Who dares to disturb me now- oh." He looked out to see many younger male bear outside his door, and instantly felt a fondness for his mate. Ahhh, she sent me a gift.
"Shall I assume you're here for a fight?" He spoke sweetly to then, and the one in the front nodded his head. "Very well, come in. But be warned, I'm in no mood for going easy on you." He closed the door behind them as they entered, and t was only moment later that the first splatter of blood coloured the door.
Abigail laid down for bed, glad Arcadius was already asleep when she arrived.
Miguel hummed softly as he worked away braiding Justine's hair. But his hands slipped at the last second, when his nose caught the scent of blood. "Wha- what is that?" He turned big worried eyes to the older kitchen workers in fear.
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Posted: Thu Dec 17, 2015 9:02 pm
Justine bolted from her makeshift seat, searching for the source of the blood and finding it originated from her mother, from the small bundle in her arms. It was one of the princes, which one, she didn't know, but it was clear this one was dying. "Quickly, fetch hot water and a rag!" shouted one of the older kitchen workers, someone who had been around longer than the king and queen themselves.
Justine watched as her mother placed the prince on a table that had been cleared of whatever food and plates had been on it. "Misha," she hissed, clutching to his shirt, "I think he's gonna die."
"Misha, go fetch the doctor! Justinochka, warm blankets—"
"—Collen'kiy, Dima, help Justinochka. Shale, Slate, grab as many bears as you need and clean up the blood—"
And on the orders went. If the current of the ever-moving kitchen staff didn't dizzy her, the situation itself did.
How could a prince be hurt? It didn't make sense, with how guards were like wall ornaments in the ice tunnels. And the wounds were fresh, too. How did this happen?
At some point, between her fetching the blankets and warming them over the fire, Justine heard whispers from the adults that had been at the party about the prince. She wasn't surprised in the least about what happened to him, or his brother; and she felt little pity for him. If he was going to die from these injuries, let him die quickly. He was wasting their time and energy on his pathetic self.
Bera
Humbert
Armel
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Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2015 4:54 pm
Miguel automatically pulled Justine closer to himself, hoping she wouldn't be scared. But truth be told, he was scared, too. For all his joking about nobles, he still didn't think any of them deserved to die this way. He snapped out of his thoughts at the orders from the kitchen workers, and dashed out to go for a doctor. *** Miguel rushed back into the room faster then even the doctor made it there, and he flinched again at the scent and sight of all the blood. Staring at the Prince's face, even though he had never seen him before, there was something familiar about that face. It made it even more sickening to look at, as if he was looking at himself covering in blood. Feeling sick, he made himself walk over to Justine and grab her hand. "We shouldn't be seeing this. The adults have it under control now. Wanna go for a walk with me?"
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Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2015 6:45 pm
Justine followed Miguel with a huff, wanting to see if the prince died or not, but when she noticed the expression on Miguel's face, she became more willing to follow him. "We can play a game. Oh, I bet Dima and the others probably started a bet to see if—You know what, never mind. A walk is okay. Down this way," she pulled him in the opposite direction of the blood, down the icy tunnels. Miguel was a gentle, sweet bear, and she really needed to learn to watch what she said around him. Clearly, the prince dying or not made Miguel more than uneasy.
"Misha" she said as she forced herself not to skip around like the cub that she was, "if you're scared, just hold on tight to my hand, or paw. I'll stay with you." Justine stopped and gazed up at Miguel, making sure he understood she was serious. Yeah, she had a childish face because she was a cub, but she was a strong cub, in will and spirit. She'd protect Miguel if he really needed it.
[We can skip after your post to when Armel is waking up in the kitchen—we can say he was too injured to move to his room—after everything has settled down because no one probably knows where Justine and Miguel went off to during the chaos.]
Bera
Humbert
Armel
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Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 8:01 pm
[Sure!]
Miguel was surprised to find that while he'd been trying to keep Justine from seeing that as much as himself, she seemed to be comforting him. He followed where she led, trying not to let his mind wander back to the kitchen. Why did the prince look so much like him?
When she spoke to him, he turned a kind smile on her, and squeezed her hand. "Thank you." Sometimes it felt like Justine was older then him, and he was the younger cub. He was fond of all of his family, but he liked her especially.
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Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 6:39 pm
Beaming, Justine leaned against Miguel because his kind smile made her want to squeal. He may be a gentle bear, but it didn't mean he was a weak one. Justine definitely thought she found a keeper, whether he would be hers or not was pointless now. She found a friend for life with his kind demeanor.
~~~~
After awhile, it was time for Justine to return to her mother, and for her to relinquish her hold on Miguel. The older bear needed to sleep after all. Plus, her mother probably didn't know where Justine ran off to; and Justine doubted the kitchen staff knew where they're lovable Miguel went either. So, it was time to return, and hopefully to a kitchen free of dying, pathetic princes.
But that wasn't her luck at all. On the kitchen table, which was now draped in a soft, luxurious plush blanket. With the prince on top. His entire torso, tiny and too small for a cub his age, was bound by layers upon layers of clean, white bandages. The bandages were the telltale sign of the prince's small size. She thought that, if his bandages were removed, she'd see his fragile rib cage.
What a pathetic, puny prince.
Turning away from the prince, Justine wanted nothing to do with him at all, especially when he started whimpering in his sleep. None of the adults were awake to tend to the oh so important and injured prince. Actually, all the adults looked beyond exhausted after tending to the prince. Now that she thought about it, why was he still in the kitchen? Didn't they have a royal sickbed for him? Curious, she glanced at the prince once more, this time taking note of all his injuries. Both his legs were bandaged, one was in a splint. Same with his hands. His neck was secured with a brace.
They should have let him die, Justine thought before she realized she was standing right beside him. "His face is so swollen. I wonder if he can open his eyes," she mused as she climbed atop the table to get a better look at the prince's ugly face. Miguel looked much better, with or without injuries.
Only numbing pain met Armel was he went in and out of consciousness. Dark figures passed by his foggy vision before he finally settled into darkness. It felt like decades had passed before he finally regained full consciousness. However, he immediately wished he hadn't because the most frightening bear in his short life, rivaling even Her Majesty. The she-cub in front of him had the cruelest expression on her face, it was the one of obvious disinterest. At least, with Queen Bera and King Nanuq, they feigned caring about him, but this she-cub...she appeared to be asking herself why didn't he just die already? He kept tears from his eyes because the crushing reality of it, of just one bear saying what everyone else was probably thinking at the party during the fight. Pain rippled through his chest, physical and emotional, as his breathing quickened, which he tried to avoid because it would give away his emo— "So you can open your eyes."
Huh? Armel couldn't stop his gaze from betraying his surprise. She was talking to him without regard to his current state of his title. And she was...she was...bossy.
"Just cry, you pathetic baby. It's obvious that you want to."
"Omfff!" The she-cub had punched him. Punched him. It took all his strength to muffle his voice. He didn't want to attract the attention of any adults. Of anyone who may—
Stiffening, Armel noticed someone behind the she-cub. A bear who looked like a younger version of his father. Is it Dov? Gerben? Otso? No, Nita... Whichever brother this was, Armel didn't want him to kill him. He showed weakness when the she-cub punched him. But no, his brother would kill him. He was going to die. He might as well let Ber—No, the name was forbidden from being spoken. But, did it extend to his thoughts? He doubted he had time to contemplate it because his older brother—Swithin, yes, this was Swithin—was going to kill him. Probably to tell Their Majesties of the mistake of letting him live and for sport. He was going to die.
Bera
Humbert
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Posted: Fri Dec 25, 2015 10:32 pm
Miguel watched as Justine climbed up to get a better look at the broken Prince, getting right up on the table he was laid out on. As for himself, he stood by the Prince's head. Slowly, as if he wasn't in control of himself, he reached out a hand to move some of the Prince's blood matted hair from his face. He gasped in horror and took a step back. Even stained and bloody, swollen and bruised, a slightly thinner sadder version of his own face lay on the table. Why does he look like me? Why?!
Miguel was so frozen in his shock, he didn't move at all until Justine punched the Prince right in the face. Then he rushed forward and grabbed her arm, gently but firmly. "No!" He wasn't sure why he stopped her. Maybe because he couldn't stand to see a bear already so wounded be hurt further. Maybe because as much as he loved her he couldn't stand to see how she toyed with an already weakened cub, younger then he was. Would she do that to me? But probably most of all, it was that he couldn't stand to see the face that looked like his own be hit by her.
The hand he held her wrist with was shaking, and he peered under it at the bear on the table. "Why does he look like me?" He asked weakly. He was confused and scared. I'm going to be sick.
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Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2015 11:08 am
Justine froze when Miguel grabbed her arm, but she didn't resist him. She just let her arm hang limp in his grasp, partly because she knew she couldn't escape his grip and partly because his hand was shaking. It was strange, seeing him look so shaken, too. And over this pathetic excuse for a bear. He was treating the prince too gently, it was weird.
For a split second, Justine thought about convincing Miguel to leave because he was becoming too strange, but when he spoke, voice weak, she gave it a second thought. "Miguel, he looks nothing like you. You're kind and strong, not like this prince." Justine scolded as she pouted and retracted her arm. She glared at the prince, blaming him for Miguel acting weird. Then she got angry at him because he really looked ready to cry, and he looked confused. "Cry already, idiot."
And he finally did, but he also scooted away from them while staring in terror at Miguel. Huffing, Justine crossed her arms to keep herself from punching the prince again. Miguel would be upset with her. "Why are you afraid of Misha? He's not gonna hurt you. Don't just stare! Speak!"
Armel couldn't understand how this she-cub could tell what he was thinking. His face probably looked like a shredded seal carcass, and he knew how to keep his expression neutral; and she was simply frightening as well. Armel thought that, if he didn't obey her command to cry, she would force him to cry with another punch. She was indeed very, very frightening.
And the male bear behind her, the one she called Miguel, who Armel thought was one of his older brothers, yet she claimed Miguel and Armel himself looked nothing alike, it clicked in his mind. But he had to be sure. "What does Miguel mean?" he whispered passed his tears, keeping his gaze downcast.
Her Majesty said all members of the royal family and noble families had human names that meant "bear" in some way. If Misha did not mean "bear" in any way, then his clothing, which looked like that of a servant, were his everyday clothing. It meant Misha was not a noble bear...he was someone who could not be acknowledged as Armel's brother. It was safer that way. The she-cub said Miguel was kind and strong, and Armel's brothers were certainly strong, but they were not kind. When he met them, they looked ready to eat him.
Bera
Humbert
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Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2016 8:11 pm
Miguel took no comfort from Justine's words. He could see with his own eyes it wasn't true. It was like looking into a watery reflection. Some parts were distorted and shifted, but it still looked like himself. "No, I wont hurt you." Miguel spoke finally, his voice sounding odd and alien to himself. "And I don't know what it means. I think it's Spanish. My birth parents weren't around to tell me."
Miguel turned away from the face like his, and moved to hold a bowl under some dripping ice, collecting some water. Then he brought it back and handed it to the Prince. "How did you get those injuries? You're too young looking to be hurt like that."
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Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2016 8:31 pm
Armel felt his chest start to burn and realized he had been holding his breath too long as he waited for Miguel to speak. Taking in a breath, Armel tried to lift his arms, to take the bowl Miguel had given him, but it simply slipped out of his hands. Too damaged. Too numb. Too weak. He was weak. Her Majesty would kill him. "Their Majesties had me fight against B-someone who is no longer here. He's dead now. I killed him." He stared dumbly down at his hands, feeling his world shift. Actually, with how weak he was, he wouldn't be surprised if his mind really was making the world shift. He was so pathetic. "Anyways, I'm used to this. It's just a sign of my weakness." He couldn't keep a monotone voice or expression as he spoke. He feared Justine would punch him in the face again. He didn't want that. It hurt—
"Here, open your mouth." Her hushed voice came suddenly, as did the piece of bread soaked in broth she was shoving in his face. Justine was looking fierce and peeved, but less hostile...he supposed that was the best description of her.
Still, he was confused. "Huh?"
Justine huffed, this prince was a real idiot. She had lost interest in his crying and decided to be helpful, like Miguel. He was giving the prince water, so she decided to slip off the table and get some food for him. He was lucky she found a pot of stew still over the fire for him and fresh bread near it. Still, he was too slow. He couldn't even open his mouth on command and he was looking so dumbly at her. "Open your mouth and eat. Misha, get more water and hold the bowl. He can't hold it on his own, yet."
"T-Thank...thank you. Both of you," the prince managed to stammer, suddenly and teary. He was already crying again, but Justine was sure he didn't understand why he was. He really was pathetic, along with confused and scared. Scared of Miguel, for the most part.
And then Miguel had it in his head that he and the prince looked alike, and maybe they did, but it wasn't impossible that he was related to the king in some manner. Anyone could be related to the king, or the queen. She could be related to the queen. Justine could even be her half-sister and wouldn't know it. However, she didn't want to upset Miguel anymore. "Armel, just so ya'know, I won't punch you again...while you're injured like this. I like to play rough with cubs my age."
[I just added the last paragraph on 1/20/16. Armel is baffled by Justine and Miguel.]
Bera
Humbert
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