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 Posted: Tue Jun 05, 2012 1:05 am
 Kingdom and Title:Veritas; head of staff (butler)
Location and Situation: In Lilith's room, around a bit, and backIn culture after culture, people believe that the soul lives on after death,
that rituals can change the physical world and divine the truth,
and that illness and misfortune are caused and alleviated by spirits, ghosts, saints ... and gods.
~Steven Pinker
The young woman’s quick agreement to his questioning of what she meant made him smile a bit. He did not think she was being rude at all, merely in very much need to find the formerly spoken area. He had no needs as such, but he remembered that at times it could be a rather important necessity indeed. The young woman did not walk beside him, but behind him, which actually made him think she was rather well-mannered. Equals walked next to each other, but the servants might walk behind or ahead of their charges, as a foot soldier would for an army commander for a comparison to now.
Once they were in the room, Kirkis had gestured the way and the young blonde lady ran past him before he finished explaining himself. It would have to rude to stare at the young lady as she began to raise her dress, so the butler respectfully dropped him eyes and made sure he’d closed the door now. Formerly it was slightly ajar, for he was a stranger to her, and had not been ordered to close it prior.
The butler looked up and towards her as he heard her clomp heavily towards him, curious as to why such a well-dressed woman would be wearing what sounded like men’s boots. Not that he would say anything, of course. Her smile was... intense certainly, but rather charming. “Mmm, yes, she must be quite wonderful.” Kirkis was at a loss for the exact lady, he had merely had his orders for these to be sent ahead for this particular guest. “Psychic? That does sound like a wonderful talent she has. Are you as well, my lady?”
He was puzzled at the way she seemed happy about her possessions, but then backed away from them as if they were something to be feared. Kirkis smiled at the young woman, and was shaking his head in denial of her being a bother. “It would not be a problem at all if you wish me to inspect your items Miss.” He did look a little puzzled at whatever she was about to add but cut herself off, a then she introduced herself, which left him no choice but to follow in a like manner. “I am Kirkis, the head butler. You may call on me for anything at all, Lady Lilith. Myself and the other servants are here to do your bidding, get you anything you might need or want, and make your stay here as pleasant as possible.” He gave her a modest bow, then continued, “I have not been told very much about you, but from what I was told, I am to treat you as any other guest. It is a pleasure to have you here.”
Boldy he walked over to her trunks, not having a hint of the suspicion she had for any possible curses or death traps. He unlatched the first one and lifted the lid, exposing several folded gowns and other fine garments. He didn’t have the chance to turn and present them with a flourish because he was suddenly assaulted by a hundred sensations of death and destruction. Normally one to always excuse himself, he instead immediately vanished from Lilith’s sight and presence.
Kirkis felt death everywhere in the castle, and to check on the living, he kept himself without any visible or sensible form, only his pure energy to travel everywhere as fast as possible. There had been a fire outside, but it was out. Haven Greene was dead. Alexandria Greene drowned. Eros Gavini. Danae Bascov. Jasper Martin. Somni Tanti. A ghost guest who was not actually a murder victim, just a new arrival? Asmoda. Gregoir Bascov. Mira Greene. Just what was going on here?!?! As soon as he checked on one, another life went out like a candle flame!
Frustrated, and yet also very frightened for the safety of the guests, the butler tried to approach his Master, and notify him of what madness was occurring. He had only been searching for dying (or recently dead) persons, so he would have no way to find any killer, or killers. But punishment was not his priority, only seeing if there was anyone he could help. All those he found were stable, or just too far beyond anything he or the healer could manage. Yet Master Veritas did not wish to communicate with him at the moment, and he felt even more alarmed. Hoping that the Master just knew what he was doing, he begrudgingly did another search, just in case he missed someone he could help. Again, as far as his senses told him, everyone was either OK or deceased (with how drained he felt at the moment though, it was quite possible he might have missed someone), and he told himself there was nothing to do but finish up his duties.In a little while he would tell the servants where to go to pick up the... bodies.
Returning to Lilith’s room as suddenly as he had vanished (though it was at least 20 minutes later), he was startled to see the young woman one the ground, seemingly unconscious. He went to her and picked up her upper body, lightly patting at her cheeks. “Lady Lilith, are you well?!” Her life energy did not seem harmed, but he felt weak with all his searches, and was worried he could be wrong. Was this an evil spell, killing people throughout the castle? He had not remained long at any one place, and had no idea most deaths were actually murders. Behind every man now alive stand 30 ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living.
~Arthur C. Clarke[Art is once more by Maniac. Click on image for larger pic. Please do not copy; I commissioned artist for this art.]
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Posted: Tue Jun 05, 2012 2:32 pm
 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.
Were it not for Cat, the siren might have found her lost in the sea of people surrounding her, all demanding answers that she had not the energy to give. With her older sister's help, she managed to get to a sitting position, but still leaned upon the amythest eyed girl for support.
A small amount of shock caused the young woman's amber orbs to widen slightly when the heiress of Lust growled as James, spoke to her. But with Micah's ill-timed arrival, Cat was given no opportunity to bite at the future king of Fortitude. At first, the woman's presence didn't affect the girl, and she did her best to appear cordial to her. Inwardly, Lorelei groaned, not at all happy to see the eldest of the Gavini daughters - just why she felt the need to be involved... There remained a minute amount of gratitude that the assassins hadn't yet found her kin, but beyond that... she wasn't up to facing Micah just yet.
But the princess held her tongue, now wasn't the time for their quarrels to surface, when the assassins had breached the realm. However silent the youngest appeared, her connection to Cat would remain undetected to those around her. ~Of course, she would show up... under the pretense of actually caring about her family.~
Dante too roused his protective stance upon the other Gavinis, declaring that everyone around them leave. But it was she that he searched for answers, she who he asked which person's blood should be shed. The readiness in his tone quickened her heart - such courage was both a gift, and a curse. ~Enough blood has been shed. We should seek cover though... I was not able to stray very far from the abbey, and that is their entry.
Slowly, the group's questions (really just one repeated time and again), were answered, but oft the responses only inspired more queries - James Greene was no exception to that. "Someone has betrayed us." And allowed the wolves into the flock of sheep. Even now, her voice beckoned, spinning a symphony at the edges of the forest.
Feeling responsible for the death of his brother, Lorelei quietly apologized to the now heir, her guilt rising with each person joining the group. James' tone softened as he spoke to her, attempting to logically alleviate her guilt... but what he didn't understand was that... had she not been tempted with infidelity twice in one night, she would not have sought his brother's attentions... and they would not have been in the abbey when the vile beast arrived. Haven would not have asked for her hand this night, had she remained in her chambers as a proper woman should have. And even now, her reasons seemed empty...
Reginald and Ryan both made their way to the group as well, and Lorelei greeted the prince with what warmth she could muster. The king of Fortitude explained just why Haven and Lorelei had been in the abbey in the first place, and when James' eyes searched her countenance, the princess wanted to shrink into Cat's form, for he would now know exactly why she felt she was at fault for the death of an heir.
It was the act of a small miracle that when, Reginald spoke of her directly she did not cow visibly. His explanation to James only furthered her want to do so; she considered it fortuitous that Cat remained so near. Ryan gave her an apologetic look, but she could not hold what another White Kingdom leader said of someone born of Lust. In many ways, she agreed that she would never be fit to serve in a court, much less be a man's wife. And even less than that, the Queen of a nation, where she contained none of what they lived for. Truly, the youngest Gavini child bore no semblance to fortitude.
~Tis not your fault that others bear prejudice to those like me.~ Especially when she would unintentionally reap destruction and sin upon those who paid fief to her and her husband. Sirens without control of their song were dangerous. Any fool could see that. ~Ever will the man blame me for the death of his eldest son.~ Just as Sara did her for Alexander.
There was no doubt in her mind that the King rejoiced the fact that she wouldn't be seated on his throne now, when her husband had already moved to the afterworlds. What would become of her now, when the Greene's were subject to her well-being?
Just as she had with so many others, the siren reached to create a link betwixt her and the new heir, knowing that if she waited, if she hesitated with her request, she would not have the courage to ask for any small favor. She chose to petition between only the two of them, so that he'd not feel cornered, and be contrary just to save his pride. Her voice would see more personal, more honeyed without her trying, as it had for everyone else. But with her own behest, the aria would seek persuasion. Soft, subtle... saccharine. The part of her siren she couldn't stamp out did her best to make it sound irresistible, and almost as though it were a promise, instead of her own request.
~Your Imminence... I know that, as you are now the heir, my well being is placed in your care.~ As it was, in nearly every realm. Somewhere, Lorelei had missed the intricate details of an unconsummated marriage, and how she was bequeathed to the next eligible brother. ~Forgive me for being so bold to ask,~ Her eyes searched his, hoping to find the kindness that swelled within his late brother. ~I beg that you won't send me to a concubine out of convenience. It will be what your mother suggests.~ The very idea of being housed alone, far from anyone she loved was enough to pimple her skin with gooselfesh. ~ If you must dispose of me, release me back to the Gavinis.~ Cat would one day be queen of their own kingdom, and her father would no longer have the power to lay a hand upon her.
Another pair approached, but for once, neither asked what had transpired, and for that, Lorelei was grateful. He stated Reginald's name, so Lorelei held her tongue. While the man had yet to act on any sort of vendetta against her, the siren had little trust for her father- in-law. And she would do well to stay out of his personal affairs.
~Oh Ryan... twas my fault that Haven ever got the inclination to exchange vows.~ She murmured back to the prince of Humility. No matter how soothing his presence seemed to be, she could not help but feel suffocated with an insurmountable amount of guilt.
The man asked a favor of her, and Lorelei's eyes grew bright as she empathized with his concern. The princess Naedira was known to be a jewel to the land, and no one would ever mistake the compassion and closeness that the Rileys shared for one another. Biting her bottom lip, she gave the slightest of nods. ~I shall try, but it might be easier if you were to be closer so that I might use your connection to her.~ Easier still, it'd be if they were touching. But with so many eyes about, Lorelei would not step over the bounds of propriety.
Ryan vowed to help find the man responsible for slaughtering Haven, and Lorelei's heart nearly stopped with the idea that he too, might fail in that venture. ~Do be careful, my lord.~ Because she would loathe to lose him as well. Such a thought stabbed at her, left her with chills that others around her might attribute to the evening wind's bite.
Micah's voice resounded within the depths of her own mind, promising to get her away from the fray, and presumably all of the people that had gathered in response to her plea.
She missed his muttering, covered with her own terror. Silver tears spilled over and onto her cheeks of their own accord, glistening in the moon's light, readily flowing with no intent to stop. His hand was there for her to take, displaying the gentleman that was expected from a man hailing out of a White Kingdom. He asked if she could stand, and Micah took it upon herself to speak for her younger sister. Had it been Cat or even Dante that had voiced the desire to care for their kin, Lorelei might have gently reminded them not to stir the heir's ire. But it was the eldest, the one that she would never believe was of pure intent. And for her to make decisions regarding her well being, that she was qualified to do so... Even if it was the most suitable course of action, Micah's gall strained her patience.
Hesitantly, she placed a hand upon James', keeping the other latched upon her sister. The siren's muscles quaked as she attempted to stand, her body weak from the adrenaline loosing itself from her form. As she stood, pins with fire upon their tips stabbed her ankle, rocketing up her legs enough that she grimaced, but did not make a sound, determined to not appear completely feeble before so many.
The man had a point... eventually the murderer would loop back around, and discover that he'd not succeeded with his goal to kill both Haven and Reginald. And with so many standing about, the group would be hard to miss.
"His highness Riley is right..." Lorelei murmured diplomatically, struggling to stay upright. "There is strength in numbers." Perhaps, they might all stay together, so that none felt imposed upon.
[[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
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Posted: Wed Jun 06, 2012 7:33 pm
Temper your enjoyments with prudence, lest there be written on your heart that fearful word "satiety." Millicent Faye Borleas
Duchess of Prudence
Location: Veritas' Castle: Hallways
Entertaining: Cecelia & Belle
Thoughts: The things I put up with... Millicent returned the smile she saw on Princess Cecelia’s face, noticing the woman step forward as if to hug her, but to draw back. There was something…different, about her, though what exactly it was eluded her for the moment. She was invited to accompany the princess and her archer on their quest to find a suitable room, Millie’s steps falling into place just behind the royal. It was clear from the fact that her highness did not stop moving that she was expected to follow. So, that was just what the dutiful Baroness of Prudence did. “ Thank you, your highness. I would be happy to accompany you,” she responded with a gracious nod of her head, launching into a recounting of her last ball. The princess excused herself, stating that she needed time for herself, and Millicent smiled in response, politely, of course. What Cecelia saw as mindless entertainment, Millicent saw as political advantage. She supplied the spirits and atmosphere – the provided a full accounting of all the gossip and rumors she’d been missing. It was because of these “parties” that she remained abreast of every scandal and back-ally bargain amongst the elite. A mind as politically shrewd as hers needed information. Again, the topic of conversation switched to Lady Garder’s attire for the evening, the Baroness chuckled as Cecelia suggested that Millie take the woman under her wing and teach her the intricacies of Prudent style. Blue eyes sparkled as she called out her earrings, Millie’s delicate fingers disappearing under her curtain of black hair to brush against the black stone. “ Well, they were a gift from my late husband. I find it appropriate to still honor his memory. But you needed worry, your highness. My handmaidens far surpass all others when it comes to grooming my hair.” Millicent Borleas only employed the best in her personal service. Turning to Belle, questioning the archer on the safety of this realm, she started upon seeing the Princess’ head slip easily through the solid wood of a door, and supposedly into the room beyond. It all clicked together for her at that moment – the princess was but a spirit. Even in death, she could still prove to be a thorn in the Baroness’ side. That took a level of skill she never would have attributed to the royal family before. Especially not Cecelia. “ Your grace, I believe Lady Belle is correct. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves until we know who may be watching and their intent. I am sure your archer would be more than happy to open any doors to rooms you wish to examine.” It was only then that her pale blue eyes returned to Belle, processing the archer’s assurances that they would be well protected in the castle. She even went so far as to pledge herself for the Baroness’ safety, which Millie waved off with a dismissive click of her tongue. “ Your protection is appreciated, but unnecessary. If the rumors of this place are true, you’ll need to focus your attention on her highness. But, if I need you, I will summon you,” she responded coolly, drawing away from the archer and her mistress. Her hands pressed against the door that Cecelia’s head was poking through, pushing the wood to reveal the room beyond. It was nicely decorated, but she could already tell that it lacked the grandeur that the princess would be expected. And, frankly, it was a little closer to her own room than she really cared for. It is wiser that a person of prudence and purpose save her strength for battles that can be won.
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Posted: Wed Jun 06, 2012 9:06 pm
  Necromancer of JusticeLocation: Hallways Warning the masses“ Turledoves in a cage, unable to spread their wings, are useless to all,” Livia responded to Claus’ comment about his motivations. It was endearing that he would want to keep her safe amongst the chaos of the castle, but clearly he had no idea just how capable she was in a battle. Still, she got the distinct impression that it was not her that the jester was concerned for. After all, there was little an architect, in absence of other skillsets, would be able to do in the face of grave magical danger. Elliott’s willingness to storm into the fray, however, was admirable, and she was sure that there was more to him than initially met the eye. Allowing him only a small nod in response to the architect’s appreciative glance for her willingness to accompany them also, she had to remember that they knew nothing of her heritage, or even her real power. If they had known of that, it would have been expected for her to continue her quest, even in the face of grave peril. Amazons never shied away from war. The combined insistence of Elliott and herself seemed to win over their guide, the masked jester clapping his hands and exclaiming his pride in their character. He may play the fool, but Livia sensed courage within him. He was a being of art, but great bravery, and she found herself very glad at their fortune to find him upon her arrival to the God’s realm. He saw fit to reward them for their show of bravery, the necromancer smiling as he removed a white glove to reveal nothing beneath, plunging it into his sleeve to reveal a white crook. He would show them to the armory, where they could take up whatever provisions they deemed necessary. This seemed more for Elliott than herself, who already had her staff with her at all times. It was the only weapon she required, even if her powers her exhausted from the journey and onslaught of magical tension throughout this realm since the moment she stepped foot here. In a pinch, however, she would still be of great use to those within the castle. Claus began his strut down the hall towards the nearest armory, which was apparently not that far, and the Necromancer from Justice fell into step behind him, though with none of the bravado of their leader. They reached the door in no time, a large ornate sign the only indication of what lay beneath thick oak. He asked them to be cautious inside, lest they injure themselves before their courageous task could be completed, and then kicked the door in with a mighty heave. “ Not many men are keen on limiting their access to weapons in times such as these,” she teased back to the jester as he remarked on the amazing lack of security surrounding the door with so much potential for death hidden inside. Lingering outside as she allowed Elliott to enter before her, gold eyes cast themselves sideways following their lead into the chamber and watching as he made his way over to a dagger, balancing it nimbly on the tip of his finger. He recounted a take of his mischief, Livia chuckling as she moved to examine a dagger from the same shelf. Spilling of blood could make her powers rejuvenate, should the need arise. “ I am sure they were thrilled with your performance, Jester,” she said simply, grinning at him as he moved the tip of the dagger from his gloved finger to the nose of his mask. There was some strong magic at work in him – she was itching to discuss it with him at length, though now seemed to be an inappropriate time for it. At any rate, their moment in the armory was cut short by the sound of a scuffle in the hallways beyond the great oak door. Eliott looked out to see what the cause of the commotion was, Livia moving so she was not far behind him, in time to see a man set the walls of the castle on fire with a magical flame. She was impressed with the architect’s throwing arm as he released a dagger into the man’s fleeing back, his body collapsing forward into a heap on the floor.  Nodding in agreement with the architect’s assessment of the situation, particularly the need to warn others of the impending danger, Livia stepped back from them, closing her palm around the dagger blade and drawing it swiftly out, red blood spilling onto the stone floor in front of her. There was no way that their small group would be able to warn the entirety of the castle in time. Therefore, more drastic measures were called for. The blood turned from crimson to a smoking green, the tendrils of smoke taking shape to reveal Styx, her swiftest comrade from death's realm. If anyone could circle the castle and warn others of the danger, he could. " Why have you summoned me," the creature breathed out through gnarled teeth, dripping with a thick black substance. Livia's countenance had paled considerably, her lips cracked and dry from the exertion of summoning forth one of her strongest undead minions. Leaning heavily on her staff, her golden eyes trained on the creature, thick chestnut hair falling forward to cover her face as she looked at the burning fire before them. It only seemed to be growing stronger - there was little time. " I require your speed. Warn the inhabitants of this castle of the fire - tell them to evacuate to a safe distance. Go, please." Her voice was authoritative, yet respectful. Her friends were far from under her control - they performed favors for her in exchange for the life force she granted them to move them from one plain to the next. The four-legged creature bowed his head low, a loud snarl escaping him as he rounded on her companions momentarily before dashing off through the halls. His steps were swift, carrying his rotting form through the halls of Veritas' castle as he set out on his companion's errand. A sinister voice echoed ahead of him as he called out a warning to all:
"A magical fire has erupted within the castle. Evacuate. Evacuate now!" He hoped they would listen. Otherwise, he would have to resort to chasing them out, and with his appearance, that would not be hard.Livia turned her dulled gold eyes back to Claus and Elliott, head lolling to the side to rest against her staff, which may have been the only thing allowing her to continue standing upright. The dagger, dripping her own blood, fell out of her hand with a clatter to the floor, her chest rising and falling with time with her deepened breathing. " We should heed his warning as well and evacuate this place before the flames consume us all." Her voice was tired, the necromancer hoping that her companions would continue to show their chivalry by helping her escape from the blaze. It would take her remaining energy to keep Styx in this realm long enough to warn everyone else of the impending danger.
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)(Over.Dose.On.Cyanide)( Crew
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2012 12:16 am
• Ӎ ɐ э ʆ ɸ ȵ ɐ • ʗ э ɾ ΐ ϛ э • Ѧ ϛ ȶ ɐ ʆ ʆ ɸ - ζ ɐ ȵ ϛ ΐ ȵ ɠ • Ｔｈｅ ａｄｏｐｔｅｄ Ｐｒｉｎｃｅｓｓ, ｈａｉｌｉｎｇ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｋｉｎｇｄｏｍ ｏｆ ＰａｔｉｅｎｃｅLocation: The hall. Currently Wearing: This Dress •xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•   Maelona gave Soren a slight nod as she went on about the meal. She watched, though tried her best not to hover over the girl. It wouldn’t be polite to watch over ones shoulder, especially since they did not know each other well. Lab sounded wonderful at the moment, then again just about anything would sound wonderful on an empty stomach.
Maelona’s eyes went back and forth between the preparation and Sokar. He responded to Sorens question, though it was probably not the response the red head was looking for. Though as he answered Maelona, she felt the slight shock that appeared on her face. So this was the kind gardener. Soon though the shock was replaced by confusion. Someone had apparently placed a spell on the kind man, preventing him from his true form.
"Oh Sokar." Maelona said, knowing by the tone of his voice that he was rather unhappy about the situation. "I am so sorry, it must be terrible." She couldn’t help but feel for the once wolf man. "Why would someone do this to someone as kind as you?" She couldn’t understand it. There were people here that deserved his fate, but not him. Not when he had been kind to her, and the others that had been around him.
Maelona gave a slight nod as he asked if she had come to eat. "Yes. I missed dinner earlier tonight." She said before looking to Soren. She shook her head in response. It was obvious she did not understand Sokar, though of course one could not blame the red head. It had taken Maelona a moment to understand him herself. He was simply making small talk. "I do not want to interrupt his meal as well." She said as she looked back and forth between the two. And it was true, especially since he had not truly invited her.
Maelona smiled at Sokar for a moment before looking back to Soren. "We were in the same group for the…" She started. She couldn’t help but wonder if she were sharing too much. "Catacombs." She decided to finish. It was the first time she had met the kind Gardener. He had protected the young princess of Envy. "Sokar fought well to protect the young princess with us."
Maelona stopped as she heard a voice, though it had been too far away for the princess to make out the words, but the voice its self was haunting. Confusion and concern crossed her face as she looked to Soren and Sokar. "Do you hear it as well?" She asked. It was almost like the voice was trying to warn them. She wanted to make sure she was not going crazy as she looked to the two of them. •xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx• Louder than sirens
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxLouder than bells
Sweeter than heavenxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hotter than hell
""
)( Sorry its taken me so long to post guys. )(
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2012 3:17 am
Ӄingdom: Avarice
Ɍank: Heiress
Ƚocation: Hallway --> Quarters
Ⱦhoughts: A war is not won by doing what is right... To win, one must simply do what is necessary.... ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ Alphonse smiled, and she hid her own in the delicate silk that she wore. It was indeed good to hear the language of their people…The common tongue was just so…Common. He mentioned that he was glad his life could be used in service to the crown and as his future Queen…She was glad to hear it. But still…His demonic taint unnerved her. She was itching to demand how that had come to pass. But as a hand maiden…It wasn’t her right. He was a Duke, and while Aimée had been granted the title of a noble woman…Alphonse outranked her, by more than she cared to do the math for.
Never had she wished more to be back within her own ‘skin’ so to speak.
“It is as I say, so it certainly is true.”, she repeated sweetly, aquamarine orbs dashing over the Duke—Golden lashes fluttering. The expression gave way to a light smile, one befitting a conversation from one friend to another.
“Our Lady believes the King will repair the land…The D’Aquitaine’s hold a deep bond with Avarice—Their roots go deep.”
That was more true than most realized…There were few god touched peoples left. Most deity’s had tired of the mortal realms… Most stories of the Children of Aquinas claimed that they had all been wiped out over the centuries. Wouldn’t scholars be surprised to find a number of them resurfacing as the rule in Avarice was restored. “Terrible things have been done to our Kingdom’s people.”
“The princess… Hates the Cambion for what they have done. For those they enslaved… For each citizen that has suffered. She truly…Despises them.”
Aimée stopped talking then, feeling the vehemence in her words. She hadn’t been discovered in all these years…She couldn’t let her ruse go to waste now. It was the perfect way to hide. The only way to be free…Even momentarily.
She didn’t comment further about his presence in the God King’s realm. That would be something she would much rather tackle with a crown on her head. With the power, and the influence of her bloodline.
The princess posing as a hand maiden moved swiftly through the halls…Feeling the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Something was wrong. She could see it in the servants, feel it, with every fiber of her being. Yet if something was so drastically wrong or incorrect…She couldn’t help but wonder where her Great Uncle was in all of this…She’d not seen hide nor hair of Veritas since madness had started taking control.
A knight from her House stopped directly in front of them, white gold helmet glittering in the torch light. “The Vice Marshal has sent for all of the Grand Duchesses hand maidens—By her Lady’s orders.” Her gaze seemed to harden for a moment…Brief, but fleeting. She did not enjoy being told what to do in any guise. Immediately she softened, falling back to the demure Aimée. “By all means then, please escort us. This is Alphonse Athanase—Duke of Avarice. Our Lady will wish to see him immediately.”
The Knight stared for a moment, before nodding his head. The Vice Marshal had given orders that no one was to enter the princesses chambers…But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make the man wait outside the door while his presence was approved. He turned immediately and started off in the right direction—Aimée followed. ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ Aimée was given direct access to her quarters, along with four other hand maidens, and she moved swiftly. Someone was playing some kind of song in her bedroom…It was hauntingly beautiful. She wished that she had time to listen. The handmaidens were always able to recognize her, from them—And as such, Mira opened the double doors for her.
“Cere— Aimée.”
Those were the only words that would need spoken. All of the handmaidens moved at once, knowing their tasks. They started taking the silk from her form, removing the white powder and designs from her face.
“Fandral…”, her eyes lingered on his form…The ever shifting color seeming to have softened from the stark lavender they had been upon their last meeting. Her expression was more resigned…But there were things that would need to be said. Though not in front of other ears.
”Alphonse, the Duke of Avarice is at the door. He is expecting to be questioned by the Vice Marshal…And he is expecting to meet with me…My Father sent him as additional protection.”, she spoke carefully, making sure that he knew the Duke would be expecting Dominique…Not Aimée.
Cere was the only hand maiden that remained still. Her expression was one of concentration as her features softened, becoming more like Aimée. The strategic face paint would make her an exact duplicate. She would don the clothing that Dominique removed. Fandral would soon be ushered from the room by the hen-like hand maidens. No man would see the princess in her shift and undergarments—Not unless it was one of her future Kings.
“I warn you…He does smell of demon. Though it also…Does seem to be him. Do not harm him.”
Not long after Fandral departed to greet and interrogate Alphonse Dominique found herself fully clothed and presentable for an audience with one of her noblemen. Her endlessly long, shimmering flaxen hair was pulled over her left shoulder, secured with a jewel encrusted pin. Her gown was made of the softest fabric…White and embroidered with small golden dragons along the hem. The corset beneath the gown made her already slim waistline seem impossibly smaller—A golden sash on the outside of the gown, beneath her bosom, creating the illusion of it being smaller still.
A touch of ladies rose powder to her cheeks, lip tincture—And she was easily as lovely as the dawn.
Just as she moved to exit her bedroom, something…Terrible yelled in her ear. She caught a fleeting glance of something that sent a chill down her spine… But the message was clear. Evacuation of the castle was necessary…Whether she believed the specter or not…It was better to err on the side of caution. Glancing at her hand maidens in question, they nodded. They had all heard as she had.
Without another word, they all donned gold and white cloaks that signified her lineage and headed towards the foyer, where the knights, Fandral, and Alphonse would be. “Long has it been, since I have last seen you with my own eyes— Lord Alphonse.”
“We have much to discuss, you and I…But something is...Wrong. Did you hear? I fear we must take our leave of the castle...Lest the flame consume us...” ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛
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Posted: Mon Jun 11, 2012 3:50 pm
♕ΊȚ ωɑʂ Ҭɧҽ ωɪϲқҽɖ ɑɳɖ ωɪɭɖ ωɪɳɖ♛ ♔Ƀɭҽῳ ɖȯῳɳ Ҭɧҽ ɖȯȯʀʂ ϯȯ ζҽϯ ɱҽ ɪɳ♚
♘șɧɑϯϯҽʀҽɖ ωɪɳɖȯῳʂ ɑɳɖ Ҭɧҽ șȯʮɳɖ Ȱғ ɖʀʮɱʂ♞ ♗Ρҽȯϼɭҽ Ҫȯʮɭɖ ɳȯϯ Ƀҽɭɪҽѵҽ ωɧɑϯ Ί Ӊɑɖ Ƀҽϲȯɱҽ♝ ☽ ȡαηȶе ʛαѵῖηΐ ☾ Ӄῖηɠɖȏɱ: Ƚʋȿȶ Ɍɑɳƙ: ρɽῖηҫε Ƚȏҫɑҭῖӧη: Kitchen ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ 
Dante nodded silently as his sister, reluctantly agreeing with her opinion that too much blood had been shed. Yes, people had died. Innocent, or at least somewhat innocent, lives had been squelched. Their souls moved on to the afterlife now. These lost lives would not be the last. More bled would be shed, and as he said earlier there was no one they could trust but each other.
Instead of arguing he just stood nearby, ready to fight or flee if needed. His eyes followed the subtlest of movements, looking for those of ill intent. His siblings were far from safe, even here.
He closed his mind to all but his siblings, and anyone trying to make a connection now would simply be met with a wall around his mind.
He only stirred when Micah spoke for Lorelei, something he knew would cause problems. He was correct, of course. Lorelei followed up by attempting to stand on her own. She was successful, but only with the help of not only Cat but also James. He shook his head and stepped closed, applying an invisible wall of force to her back for her to lean on. ~Do no push yourself, sister. I can and will carry you inside kicking and screaming if you make me.~
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
♕Ɍҽѵȯɭʮϯɪȯɳɑʀɪҽʂ ωɑɪϯ♛ ♔Ӻȯʀ Ӎӌ Ӊҽɑɖ Ȱɳ Ȁ șɪɭѵҽʀ Ρɭɑϯҽ♚
♘Ɉʮʂϯ Ȁ Ρʮϼϼҽϯ Ȱɳ Ȁ ζȯɳҽɭӌ șϯʀɪɳɠ♞ ♗Ȱɧ ωɧȯ ωȯʮɭɖ Ȩѵҽʀ ωɑɳϯ Ҭȯ Ƀҽ Ӄɪɳɠ?♝
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Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2012 8:32 pm
All I want is something realSomething I touch and can feel Cat.
Location: Forest.
╔════════════════════════════════════════════════════╗
Cat let her gaze slide down to her younger sister's face at the sour telepathic comment and snorted gently. ~I think, dearest, she might actually have good intentions, but all that aside, for the sake of getting out of here in one piece, let's try and play nice.~
The young heiress would have quite happily ignored most everyone around them and toted her sister off but she decided as the number of people increased and the tension around the situation rose that there were several problems with this.
First and foremost, her fathers wonderful proclamation naming her the heiress of the kingdom. Cat could have gleefully pummeled her father at the moment. Her actions now would reflect heavily upon her kingdom which was going to seriously limit the freedom the princess was used to having in her actions.
Her eyes slid around the group, bring her to the second problem; her sister's new in-laws. She could have screamed with frustration at that particular little obstacle. The poor boy had gotten married to her sister just in time to get himself killed and land her in the custody of those not so fond of her without the buffer that Cat had willingly been all her life such as it was.
Her gaze jumped to Dante know as he addressed them. ~Unfortunately, I don't think this situation will be so easily fixed, my brother.~ She let her gaze pointedly wander over the group again then returned it to him. ~Those who need killing are not here, I believe and that leaves the matter of Lorelei's... custody my top priority at this moment.~
As Cat watched James offer Lorelei a hand up, Cat heard her elder sister speak up. Her eye twitched, dreading that having the plea addressed so openly may not have been the wisest decision at this particular moment. The king was suffering from a great shock and he might be prone to lash out if he felt he was being cornered.
She let out a sigh of relief as a few others suggested moving as well but suggested the group stay together for safety's sake. She nodded to herself. She could use that. So when she stood up with Lorelei, she also spoke. "I have to agree with there being safety in numbers. And of course we would be well advised to leave this immediate area. Perhaps we should all head to the castle, the dining area, perhaps so we can get water and maybe something stronger for His Majesty and my sister. I'm sure they could use it..." she paused and tilted her head thoughtfully. "Actually I'm pretty sure given the news, they are not the only ones who could use it."
╚════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝
I'll hold it close and never let it go
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Posted: Sat Jun 16, 2012 10:16 pm
James Greene Kingdom: Fortitude
Rank: Prince
Location: Outskirts of the forest - the stream An unfamiliar feeling crept into his mind, causing his brow to furrow slightly. Looking to the siren, seeing the way that she was looking at him, he realized what was happening – she was establishing a psychic link between the two of them. James had only done this a few times, but it was always he that had initiated contact – this was different. Nonetheless, he accepted her invitation for a link, and listened to her plea. She did not want to be cast aside as she was apparently thinking, and begged the young heir to be placed back with her own family if he wished to dispose of her. Dispose. As if she were some sort of toy. This was not the case, however. This was his brother’s wife… he was going to take care of her. End of story.
“It has become clear to me recently that my parents and I do not see eye-to-eye on some matters,” James projected to the young siren. “They despise you with a passion… merely because of where you come from. I am of my father’s blood, but not of his upbringing. I have a feeling that Haven and I were similar in a way. My brother saw value in you as a human being, one that can eventually sit side-by-side with him on the thrones of Fortitude. I will not let my brother’s vision become tarnished with my father’s arrogance.” He looked to the young woman’s surrounding family before continuing. “I will not toss you aside.”
This time, he spoke aloud, to everyone present; especially the Gavinis. “There is a bond between our families now, and I will not abandon it. Not in the face of danger, and certainly not in the face of petty opposition. I am from the Kingdom of Fortitude, and as such, I will provide safety and solitude to those who require it.”
It was James’s form of an olive branch – his outstretched hand. Because in the forest, the two families had positioned themselves in a formation similar to two warring factions – the Gavinis on one side, and the Greenes on another. There did not need to be any sort of tongue-lashing from anyone… Haven and Lorelei’s marriage should have solved that. After all, they technically were a family now. A family should not be fighting, no matter what kingdom each hailed from. Because as a family, they needed to realize that they would see each other right often… and to avoid bloodshed, they needed to get over their differences. So when James reached out his hand for Lorelei, it was his way of stepping over the invisible line that had formed between the two groups.
The blond woman – apparently Lorelei’s sister, Micah, spoke. She desired to take her sister away from all of this… which was understandable, but right now, they needed to stick together. In a form of defiance, Lorelei grasped his hand and stood, and James held out another hand to help steady her – he could feel her shaking. Looking to the blond Gavini, James spoke, “Yes, she does indeed require rest… but I fear that now is not the time for that.” The Prince Ryan spoke, and many were in agreement, including James, who nodded to the prince. “I also agree; until everyone is inside and safe, we must stay together. Splitting up into smaller groups will only heighten our chances of being slain by an assassin.”
Just as he was ready to head back towards the castle, however, a call came out, exclaiming that the castle was ablaze and they needed to evacuate. Grimacing, James looked around at the present company they were in. Now what? As far as his father had told him about the estate, the only buildings were the castle and the church. The church was gone, reduced to a pile of ashes… and now the castle was suffering the same fate? Did these assassins ever stop? Sighing, James thought of the next course of action to take. Ideally, they would need shelter… but that wasn’t possible now. So what else was there? Thinking back to his father’s conversation to him explaining the grounds of the castle, he remembered something: a stream. There was a stream that flowed towards the northern end of the estate… and apparently wasn’t far from here.
“Unless I am mistaken,” James said to his comrades around him, “but there is a stream a little ways from here. It would provide seclusion, as well as clean water,” he nodded to Cat Gavini, harkening back to her plan of going to the kitchens to fetch water for the obviously thirsty souls. The water would merely be coming from a different place. Making sure that Lorelei was well-supported by him, and that Ryan was helping his father, James pressed on, determined to protect everyone in their improvised party.
==To the Stream==
It didn’t take long for them to reach the stream; only a few minutes. And thankfully, they had evaded detection by anyone else. For the moment, they were alone, and luckily the moonlight was just enough for them to see. The image of the moon dances quietly on the surface of the water, almost daring anyone to break its surface and drink of it. James set Lorelei carefully down by the stream, mindful of whatever injury she might have sustained.
Scanning the area with vigilant eyes, James looked over to Ryan before he spoke. “Would you feel comfortable leaving them in the company of the others if we go searching for the assassin?” by ‘them’ he was referring to those injured, those who could not fight. James had a sinking feeling, however, that it was his own family that was the target – if it was a killing spree for anyone else at the castle, Lorelei might be just as dead as his late brother.
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Posted: Sun Jun 17, 2012 9:44 pm
✠ ══════════════════════════════════════════ ✠ xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx✠ Position: Second in Line to the Throne✠ Location: Long Gallery xxxxxxxxxx xxxxx
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxx ccccc xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxx✠ OOC:Why are you reading this, I have nothing special to say about this post.
 xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxxxxx✠ ══════════════════════════════════════════ ✠ To be enclosed into a room with an enemy was something that was always a possibility with Altonair, seeing as he had already been in contact with a Patiente princess before (Maelona and, unknown to him at the time, Thantos) during the ordeal in the Catacombs. It was a situation he prepared himself to be in, to be ready to defend himself, and if necessary, to kill.
And yet, he could not, lest he strain Humiltan and Envian relations. Not with Princesses Naedira and Madelyne within the same room.
Prince Stefan introduced the woman to the group as Corrine Masterson, Arch Duchess of Wrath, and Altonair took a second look at the woman. Ah, he remembered her now. They'd met some time ago, small encounter brought upon by her traveling. It had been years since, so it was no wonder he didn't immediately recognize her. Well, that made two Mastersons present now. Being among allies did make the situation with the Patiente prince a little easier to bear.
The Patiente prince's response to Stefan's lack of knowledge was a practiced response, though Altonair could only see it as coddling. He could not help but see everything action he did as either hostile or insulting in some way, including his own introduction. Dafydd ab Rhys, the second eldest son of Patience, was who he was. So, he was also second in line to the throne, just as Altonair was. It was a common trait the two the Envian prince hated to acknowledge.
Dafydd pranced on with his pompous greetings with Arch Duchess Corrine, even extending something that was either a flirtatious pass or a lecherous attempt at seeming friendly. Either way, it just made Altonair want to choke the life out of him even more. It didn't make him likable to the prince, even when he attempted to express a show of sympathy to Madelyne and some chivalrous promises of defending the Riley sisters.
Gods, he didn't even care if he was being too unsympathetic to another person: Altonair simply could not believe how much he was loathing being around the Patiente. At least Maelona had the decency to be useless and stay out of the way. He didn't even have to acknowledge her. Here, he had to pretend Dafydd was a pitiable being that deserved his concern.
All he would get is his scorn.
Deciding it wasn't health to let his hate build up, he shifted his focus onto the others in the room. Stefan himself didn't seem too comfortable since Corrine showed up. In fact, he seemed to be doing a bit worse. It looked as if he was...afraid, of the Arch Duchess? No, perhaps it was just something else. There shouldn't be a reason he should be so nervous around his cousin. No obvious reason, at least.
Naedira, his betrothed, still remained weakened in her state, obviously taxed from the day's events. It saddened the prince to see her this way: worn out and wrung. Between the burning of a place she treasured, the prospect of assassins in the kingdom, and witnessing the execution of her closest friends, she must be on her ounce of formality. And yet, she and her sister continued in her demure ways.
Corrine, for the most part, seemed...composed. Yes, she had traded some more than friendly words with Dafydd (unfortunately), but it was respectable how she seemed to command a sort of fierceness about her. Perhaps she was trained well in the art of battle? That would explain some of the nervousness Stefan was displaying, but not all of it. After all, the Stefan was almost twice his cousin's size. Unless she was warrior of considerable skill, there would be little reason he should fear her. That was always a possibility though.
The prince's attention was immediately caught as soon as Dafydd had spoken his name, and agreed with his proposal to stay together. My enemy, agreeing with me. How bittersweet this moment is. he thought, raising an eyebrow at he Patiente prince. Altonair almost scoffed at his proposal to move to another area though.
He felt himself ready an argument, when Naedira voiced her desire to to go along with whatever the battle hardened of the group decided on. She downplayed herself to being a burden, something Corrine was quick to assure he that she was not. Altonair only nodded in agreement to her words.
The Envian prince considered his words carefully, knowing fully well that the wrong sentence structure could come off as too hostile. "...assuming that the rumored assassins are not roaming the hallways, do you have a specific area in mind, Prince Dafydd? Our movement would need to be swift, lest we put ourselves in more danger." he questioned the prince, falling back onto his royal behavior.
He shrugged. "While some of us may be trained in combat, I'd rather not put it to the test against trained assassins. The fire outside may also prove problematic. Besides, it's as if our location is known to anyone. We happened upon this gallery by accident ourselves." His argument was not made out of spite of the Patience prince: the risks associated with relocating themselves could not be ignored, but it wasn't as if they were completely safe within the long gallery. If the assassin's didn't find them, the fire might. Even then, the long gallery wouldn't be hard to escape.
"I think it's better if we stay here, though it's not my decision alone that decides our plan of action." he stated, turning to Corrine and Stefan Masterson. "Have you any suggestions, Lady Corrine and Lord Stefan?" he inquired, curious to what the Wrathian Arch Duchess and Prince thought. It was clear Naedira and Madelyne would go with what the group wanted, and there were already two different plans of action suggested. Their decisions were the deciding ones, unless they had another plan.
✠ ══════════════════════════════════════════ ✠ The wicked envy and hate; it is their way of admiring.xxxxx xxxx
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Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2012 8:42 pm
 Kingdom: Hubris
Rank: Servant
Location:Outskirts of forest, looking on
It was shocking, the scene unfolding before her eyes; The abbey was burning, a group of people were floundering around trying to figure out what to do, and Ella and Sam watching the whole thing on the outskirts of the group, as if it were a play. And oh, did the servant girl wish it was a play, instead of something grave and fearsome.
Looking at the people gathered, it seemed that some had acknowledged them, others remained focused on the woman who seemed to be having a difficult time getting up off the ground. Concerned about the whole situation, Ella looked to Sam. “Lord Sam….what shall we do?” the servant was not sure if the prince wanted to get involved with the group. Sam had not lived with the Green’s for a very long time and if even occurred to Ella that he may not know that the body on the ground was his brother, along with the one standing and conversing with the men in the group.
As the two lingered a little longer, it appeared that the group was moving. Ella was unable to hear where to but from their movements it looked like they were headed to the stream. “Lord Sam…?” she left the question in the air, hoping the Prince would decide to do something other than loiter in the open.
Out Of Character: I think this is the shortest post I have EVER done. My apologies Deste T-T Feel free to drag Ella to the stream or back to the castle, I know you'll be nice to her if you auto her ~_^
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Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2012 9:05 pm
Princess of Prudence
Location:My bed room
In the presence of:Belle and Millie
“Oh yes, your late husband…I keep forgetting about him.” Cecelia muttered while she looked around the room before her. It was nice, spacey and decorated in yellow and pink pastels. Flowers were arranged in colorful vases around the room. It wasn’t magnificent and over the top, but it would do. Before Cecelia had a chance to float inside, Millie pushed the door open. “Draw attention to myself? From what I hear this place is a magnet for bad things and strange people, it is going to happen whether we want it or not. And besides, your flamboyant fashion will draw attention to us much more quickly than my state because I hear there is already a ghost in this castle. A butler or something of the sort? Strange beings ghosts are. I wonder why he is still here.”
Floating inside the room to get a better view, Cecelia went to the bed and examined the covers. She secretly wished she could feel the satin sheets, wished she could lay down and do more than stare at the ceiling. “This is a wonderful bed.” She announced while turning to the ladies. “But since I cannot sleep someone is going to have to keep me company when I am bored. Millie? Where is your room? I wish to know so that I may call upon you whenever I am need of entertainment.” As usual it never occurred that the Baroness probably did not want to see her all the time….or at all for that matter.
After finding the bed to her liking the Princess went to the window and noticed smoke hovering around the castle grounds. “Oh goodness what on earth is that?” she gasped, watching as people from the castle to the areas of grass that did not seem to be filled with black vapors.
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Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2012 10:48 pm
 Kingdom and Title:Wrath; Heir
Location/Situation: Mishka's bedroomI was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.
- William Blake Lincoln held his sister until she was able to speak more clearly to him, but he still kept his hands on her upper arms. Not just to comfort her, but to make sure she didn’t suddenly leave his presence. Mishka was full of fire, and the gods knew what she might do without thinking in her grief. Though he let her move away from him slightly, he still held her. She had just experienced a devastating loss, and there was no way in hell that he would permit such a loss to be repeated. Not with his precious little sister.
She tried to calm herself to speak to him, and he silently praised her attempt at strength. She was a girl, the only one amongst several brothers, but she was no weakling. She was still a Masterson, and she could push aside personal pain with the best of them. Not hearing what he had expect to, his brow lowered as he tried to figure out what she meant. He asked her to renounce her family? He had thought Jasper loved her, knew her. But no, her loyalties to their family were as strong as his own. As the parents of the royals divided themselves further and further, their mixed progeny became closer.
Mishka’s tears returned, but Lincoln could understand. The love of her life had seemingly turned on her. Perhaps he’d meant to only scare her, not.. kill her. But regardless, if he had not been dead at that moment, Lincoln would have finished the job. No one hurt his family. He grasped at her tighter now when she began to cry again. May the gods damn the man for causing his little sister so much pain!
He rubbed at her back tenderly as she continued her narration, and confession of a sorts. He kissed at her head and muttered soft words in old Wrathian, promising her she was not at fault, it was just to defend herself. That yes, something must have been wrong with Jasper, he would have never otherwise tried to hurt her. As far as he knew, Mishka only knew a little bit of the more formal language, but enough that she might be soothed. He remembered his father doing the same when she was very little, and the king could afford to dote on his only daughter without being judged as a weak man for it.
The familiar touch of her mind entered his, and he permitted it once more. His sister was otherwise busy crying her heart out, and he would not begrudge her now for this. “Someone is always trying to kill us Mishka.” A tender kiss on her forehead. “We are Mastersons however. We will not die so easily.” He hoped to make light of the warning, for she was too upset right now. But the fact that a formerly loyal bodyguard had had thoughts of running away with Mishka, and had given words of warning to her though she had killed him... now that was deeply disturbing. He hoped he would keep his emotions hidden from her, but so far as he knew, she never used her ability to try to spy on his thoughts, only to speak more directly to him. Lincoln wondered what the state of things was like back home, as he hadn’t had any news in a while. He hoped Jasper’s warning was not a foreshadowing of larger problems.
After some time, Lincoln did not try to keep track, his sister’s crying stopped. He let her go as she kissed her dead knight and held his hand. It would have been beautiful to him, had he not been furious at the knight’s betrayal of all his vows. Mishka may have forgiven him in death, but Lincoln would not. He considered denying her request, and instead ordering their personal servants from Wrath to leave the body out where the beasts and birds might feast on it, leaving his soul with no rest. It was better than he deserved.
But he couldn’t say such a thing. Not when his sister pleaded with him like that. Such a command would only hurt her. Damn the traitorous knight, but he would do as she asked, and permit him such a burial. It itched and irked at him that he would have to lie to his parents, but it was necessary for Mishka to heal. He had no false ideas about that, he knew this had wounded his dear sister deeply. Healing would be a long time coming, but he would give her this. “Of course Mishka. A knight of Wrath deserves no less.”
It was not likely she would feel up to a late dinner, but Lincoln wondered if it might help distract her from her pain. If she chose against it, then he would stay with her for as long as she’d let him tonight. “Let’s get you cleaned up Mishka.” He tried to help her stand, wanting to get her to the washroom. Surely by now a maid would be by, and hr could tell them to bathe his sister, whilst finding someone else to remove the body and clean up the room. But it was slow going, as she seemed so lost in her grief that she wasn’t really listening to him.
The Oneiric Oracle's Conclusion: Agh Sag, I am super sorry this is ridiculously late!!! Sport begets tumultuous strife and wrath,
and wrath begets fierce quarrels and war to the death.
- Horace
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2012 1:34 pm
 Pic by vishstudio; click for larger shot
Location/Situation and Form: in the kitchens with Soren and MaelonaAll things truly wicked start from an innocence.
~Ernest Hemingway
Sokar tilted his head towards Soren when she mentioned Maelona taking him up on his offer. He was confused on what she meant, however. He’d merely asked, in that human way of stating the obvious, if she had come down to eat.... hadn’t he? Well, perhaps not. Whatever he’d meant to say was garbled by his limited language skills, so at least it was a good thing he hadn’t been misunderstood to be making an insult or something as such.
He nodded at Soren’s offer, curious as to why a stranger would be offering him food, but not so disturbed to deny it. Right now she only had a mix of things ready to cook, but no final food made. He watched eagerly, wanting to see how she would make what humans called a “meal” out of all these food parts put together. It seemed a strange method, but he did have to grudgingly admit that more often than not it tasted good. He wondered for a second then, if his now human tongue with its much more varied taste sensitivity would thus enjoy it more? Considering wolves did not have many priorities besides eating, hunting, sleeping, and mating, it did certainly intrigue him the more thought he put into it.
Sokar titled his head at Maelona when she commented on his situation being terrible, but was confused as to why she commented on his kindness. He did not think of himself as a kind individual, as wolves go. He took care of his packmates, but that was a basic instinct, not anything born out of special benevolence.
He had put forth the extra effort to watch for Evony because she was so little and timid, merely a pup. Maelona was at least a bit older, and he had figured (with common wolf sense) that she would have more experience in taking care of herself. “You sit here? More chairs.” He had started figuring out that humans enjoyed sharing food, and figured the way Soren spoke, she expected Maelona to go with him. It was all the same to him if she also came and sat here, there was certainly enough room since Micah and Dante had left.
Looking a bit more serious at Maelona’s question, he snuffed, then tried to better focus his hearing. It was a maddening thought that she could hear better than him! But try as he might, he could not catch any sound that she might have meant. Possibly it was because he was at a crossroads of being, his soul at war with his new body, not fitting correctly.
We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.
~Plutarch (46 AD - 120 AD)
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2012 4:52 pm
Location~ Outside: With John, then heading towards the Abbey ruins. Later inside castle.
Thought~Why am I so morbid right now? A sigh escaped from Petyr’s lips after listening to John’s own thoughts on the dinner subject. He hadn’t meant to sound so insensitive about it, especially since no one really had longer than a moment to let the evening’s dinner affairs settle, in body and mind, before another situation arose. This place really seemed to be a devil’s trap rather than a God’s home. “I did indeed. I hadn’t eaten a decent meal on my journey here until tonight, so I was quite ravenous, even after the demise of the House of Black. I must admit that I am well beyond the years when death can make a meal unsavory.” The last time that had happened wasn’t too long ago truthfully, six years to be precise. But the brutality he had witnessed then, would have made even the most heartless crumble. Children were never to be harmed, even if it meant their life or one’s own.
Letting that particular thought dissipate once more he attuned himself back to John who had his own thoughtful look about him. Petyr hadn’t expected him to remember, being so young at the time, but it was kind of him to try. Most royals might brush off the memory, deigning that they needn’t remember something so long ago, and that was what servants were for. But a good royal, such as John seemed to be, would put effort into history, which as many would say ‘always repeats itself’.
Petyr chuckled slightly at John’s response, “Not to worry, I hadn’t expected you to.” It really had been a long time since he’d seen Prince John. And even at the time they had met, he wasn’t all that sure John even realized he was saying hello to someone new or just another person that resided in the castle. It made him smile thinking of childhood games that drove his concentration from work. So he knew all too well how John must be feeling, or at least assumed he did. “Of course, but there is not much to tell. My father and I had traveled to Fortitude to meet with the King on business. And I was officially able to greet the royal family during our short stay. Our meeting was very brief, a simple ‘Hello Prince John’ to be exact. It was the same with Gabriel and Alexandria, I remember Miranelle was too frail for visitors, and I have only recently heard of James. So it was your brother Haven that I conversed with while I was there. Our age difference was limited so we were able to train with one another. He was a decent fighter at the time, I imagine he has only gotten better. I wrote him only two times after that, losing contact due to my constant travels. It would be nice to reacquaint ourselves someday.” Pausing, he thought momentarily that if Haven was here, then it would be possible, “But yes, very brief.”
He didn’t feel comfortable going into too much detail about the exact reasons for his travels to Fortitude, even if John had already been told being a possible heir and all. But right now, it was best to keep mum on those details. “Two weeks?” the idea of being here for even two days did not settle right, after one Petyr might have been more than happy to tango with an assassin (for he knew he was able), and quite possibly a whole score, if it meant not being here for that long. “I see...”
Petyr wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. He had wondered at first how was it a good thing. But after rationalizing it, maybe it was, because at least he had lived long enough to be one of those few. He had made his offer to assist and, as John politely responded, Petyr looked to the ground and smiled to himself. “I offered before you asked, but in truth you didn’t really, so an offer is a willing gift, one that shouldn’t be returned. So you owe me nothing, however that is kind of you.” As a quick afterthought he was worried the Prince would insist so he continued, “But if you still feel that way, then I shall ask for your assistance in watching each other’s backs, so that we arrive safely.” He tone was soft at the end, he didn’t want to seem too harsh a person, and have John think unkindly of him (although he doubted that was his character, but still, even the kindest person will speak ill words at least once). Gently brushing off the last remark from John he followed him down the stairs. He had seen the grounds briefly before entering the castle so was in agreement with the route that John was taking them.
As they moved further along the path, Petyr’s eyes stung for a moment when they had finally gotten to a point where the smoke had reached. This caused him to breathe shallow in an attempt to pick up any smells that he might be familiar with, and one was. The smell of burnt muscle and bone; flesh, human flesh. It was a light trace, but even so he had smelled those particular scents before, and they were hard to forget. Turning to the young prince, Petyr gave him a solemn look (not knowing what lay ahead, more instinct than anything else), “I think it best we move faster.” With that he gave a quick nod and began to jog lightly until the prince was next to him, so that they could match speed. When they had reached an area that appeared more open, Petyr paused and placed his hand in front of John to wait for a second, giving him a hand gesture to size up the area before they continued. On his side everything was clear, and John seemed unalarmed as well, so they continued until there were voices just ahead. Petyr slowed his speed to a walk, so as not to alarm the others that they were now approaching.
Petyr adjusted himself to listen in closer as they were still at a good, unnoticeable distance from the group. Overhearing unexpected and rather sad news he stopped moving. Focusing now on the people gathered before them he recognized only a few, but one stood out before all others: the King of Fortitude. “John”, he whispered a call for his current companion’s attention. Moving close to him, eyes now looking deep into silver, Petyr sighed heavily. “I-I need to...”, he wanted to tell him what he had just heard, but the words were too heavy on his tongue. It wasn’t right coming from someone that wasn’t family, and Petyr wouldn’t really know how to comfort him in regards to such ill tidings, but he would think of something.
“I have somewhere I must go from here. I hope that in calmer times we can converse more, but right now...”, his face saddened ever so slightly as he slowly lifted his arm and placed a hand on John’s shoulder. It was a brotherly gesture in his mind (since others have used it), one that would hopefully comfort John for the news that would soon follow him for life, “you need to stay with your family at all times.” Gently patting John’s shoulder a few times he removed it to point towards the group that was now heading away from the area. “Your father is with them, and I think a brother as well. I will keep rear watch until you are safely with them.” Smiling reassuredly, Petyr gestured for John to go quickly, lest he be left behind.
His own destination was that of the Abbey. He would find this so-called assassin, before it could harm another, or...mostly take the life of the one that was his to take. It takes one to track one, or so his guild would say.
-------
The Abbey was still standing tall, but her insides were diseased, darkened by fire’s unbiased rage. He hadn’t gone inside yet, needing to bring in fire once more for him to see the deep details of what happened in there. A few feet from him, a single torch illuminated the walkway that led to the Abbey. When he entered with it in hand, he frowned at the unsteadiness of the beams that remained. The sound was similar to the planks of a ship in stormy weather. Before disturbing the area inside, he began to closely look for any obvious signs of what exactly happened in here. Moving in further he saw the remains of what was once human, the head a few feet from the body. Examining the cut on both ends told him it was from a highly skilled hand. It took another minute or so of observation and adjusting to the situation that he knew where he must go to find this person whom had come to slaughter the children of the thrones.
He was on his way inside when he heard a warning from...something, claiming the existence of another fire, this one inside the castle. There was nothing he could personally do about it, and right now he was busy, so continued on, on his own.
His pace was quickened inside, following what little information he had at the moment. Along the way he spotted (at a distance) two men he recognized instantly. They were his father’s most trusted men, a Knight and a General (Alistair and Kirios). But why were they here? Had his father not trusted him in his duty, though he had never failed him? No, it wasn’t that. Never would it be that. Perhaps it was to keep up the appearance that Petyr was just a common prince, somewhat skilled in fighting. Petyr’s history had never been divulged to a single soul outside of the guild, only he and his father shared this secret. The men that had retrieved him in his fifteenth year never lived longer than the day they escorted him to the castle. It was his father’s wish for such secrecy.
He would have to seek out the two men when time allowed it: with that he continued his search which eventually led him to a door amongst the chamber rooms for the royal children. He stood in front of it trying to listen in, but there was only silence. A door opened further down the way where a chambermaid was carrying a heavy load of luggage. She startled upon seeing him and began to hurry past him. “Wait”, he whispered at her, “Who’s room was this?” Without giving him an answer the woman continued to move away before Petyr grabbed her, perhaps a bit to roughly for the woman yelped. He apologized fervently and begged her to tell him.“Mira Greene’s room”, she tossed at him with spiteful eyes and continued on her way.
He didn’t need to go in, knowing that the only thing he would find was more death, but he should confirm it, and then find someone to tell.Justice means minding one's own business and not meddling with other men's concerns.
Plato
Until you must.
Petyr
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