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 Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2012 7:44 pm
Location:In room with Kirkis, taking an awesome nap at one point
Pain: in her...knees
“That would be AWESOME!”, Lilith exploded with excitement at the prospect of being psychic, or at least someone asking if she was. Alas, that skill needed a brain. Face in a slight pout now she looked at the man with her best interpretation of doe eyes...sigh. “No, I am not. But you are kind to question if I am.” Having looked on to the trunks the idea swaggered into another causing more drama to enter her passing mind. In his agreement to check her ‘new’ things she smiled with big eyes and squeaked a thank you at him. She had caught herself saying something rude, then quickly introduced herself and was happy he gave his name as well. This meant they were friends now. Forever. ‘Oh he is the head butler. No clue what that means.’
A snort erupted from her nose from hearing her name followed after Lady. He had already said Lady before while speaking to her, but she wasn’t thinking he had meant her. Who he could have been possibly talking wasn’t important. But now that she had gathered he had meant her, it was just silliness. Making no more sounds after her crude one, she looked at Kirkis as he continued to address her, seemingly uninterrupted by her random noise. Anything she wanted, anything she wanted, played over and over in her head. Anything. Aaanyyyything. What a wondrous word she thought to herself, now blocking out the rest of what the man was saying to her. She began to think of all the things she could ask for and have, but in truth nothing came to mind, except for her father. Could they get him back? No, because he was dead! This Kirkis friend-forever was a liar. She watched as he moved over towards her trunks, this time an angry pout creased her face. He lied. ‘I hope he disappears like I did and never returns. Bad friend!’
The words weren’t meant in truth, just a grumpy fit over just finding out her father was dead. So when Kirkis really disappeared, it was too much for her to handle. She had lost her newly found friend-forever, forever.
Everything was dark now. She was drifting in an unfamiliar plane, lost to all, again. Why had she lost her temper? Kirkis was a kind man, he had helped her with so many things. Been by her side for so long. She hated herself for what she had done. It was best she stayed here, before she could ever harm another living soul. Damn her...damn her.
She began to find comfort in this place, knowing she couldn’t bother nor harm anyone ever again. But a voice echoed inside the nothing, and she felt occasional pressure on her cheeks. She began to feel her body’s existence and a sudden chill on her back made her open her eyes. Had she been sleeping? Did that mean she imagined that Kirkis was gone, because here he was. Taking care of her once more, with concern across his face. This was a test, yes a simple test, to see if she was worthy of his friendship and in her dream she failed. She would not fail in reality. With that thought she threw her arms around Kirkis’ upper body while calling him her dear sweet friend-forever. “You are really truly here! I am so so happy that you did not disappear for good!” With one last squeeze she finally released him. Rolling her body away she managed to stand (ungracefully). Looking back to Kirkis she gave him another big smile and told him she was sorry for being so blind to his true feelings. But before he even had the opportunity to ask her if she was insane, she remarked on how it smelled like burning, then headed to the door (because that was the safest thing to do...). Opening it in a swift move her suspicions had been right, when along came a cloud of smoke straight in her face, causing her to choke. Slamming the door shut she backed away now trying to catch her breath. Looking towards Kirkis she was able to cough out a “What...do we...do?”
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2012 11:41 pm
Kingdom: Wrath
Rank: Prince
Location: in the long gallery
Mood: timid, then visited once more by paranoia and general cuckoo-ness I don't believe in fate or destiny.
I believe in various degrees of hatred, paranoia, and abandonment.
However much of that gets heaped upon you doesn't matter -
it's only a matter of how much you can take and what it does to you.
--Henry RollinsStefan was doing a fairly good job of keeping his movements slow and non-attention grabbing. He was doing his best at trying to blend in with the background, feeling trapped by how many people there were now. How much longer before one of the three he’d met first mentioned the way he’d literally stumbled upon them like a common fool? He was listening enough to the the stream of conversation to pick out the heavy subject matter, and knew that most often people tried to relax the atmosphere when it was too oppressive with something light. The prince’s mind told him that it would be his blunder that would be brought up, inevitably. Then they’d all share a laugh at his expense, including his cousin.
The Princess Madelyne put it in a very well-spoken manner, how a good day had turned bad, and made Stefan wish he had such words. Greeting his cousin had seemed to inspire more hesitance in him, from the way she chastised him as one would a child, with a soft click of her tongue. Presenting his cousin seemed so far a good thing, as Madelyne responded to it politely. Yet he was not sure if he had failed somehow. He’d given her name and title, and relation to himself so there would be no question of her nobility, and royal descent. But it seemed... such a very short thing to say, as well as of the others. He was not a herald, he was a prince. He should be adding up deeds or something to prove that those he introduced to each other were equals, though Corrine was not in the main line. It was better not to look at her, for he wrongly assumed she would only berate him for his lack of quick thinking.
Princess Naedira, with courteous and gentle words, helped to soothe him of his worries that they knew each other as well. Having only glanced at her, it did look as if she had blushed deeply, but perhaps she felt faint, after the hard run. Princesses did not normally have to do such things, especially delicate ones like these two (his cousin was another animal altogether). To be thanked directly felt like it SHOULD be an insult, but would she do so? In front of her betrothed who was an ally of his, and his own family? The large man could only nod his head at her, unable to think of anything to say. In shock though? What could she mean by that? Stefan, being so recently arrived, had no idea that this safe heaven was in truth dangerous and deadly, so he attributed her shock to the burning building. He was still curious as to why it could have bothered her so much. Had someone she knew been inside? Death by fire was a horrendous idea, one used in Wrath only for very vile forms of treason and such.
Hearing where the royal was from did not spark any memory, so Stefan kept still beside Corrine. For a second, he considered moving towards perhaps Princess Madelyne, the call in his blood wanting to be with like. But logic kept him where he was, as there was no reason to approach someone he’d only barely met for no reason. It might frighten her or the Princess Naedira she was close to, and it was his duty to stay besides his cousin, especially if he was playing the role of Prince. His etiquette and propriety lessons were minimal, most of his teachers satisfied he could at least remember the basics, but never bothering to instruct him very much otherwise. But at least he was grateful he remembered that much. To insult Corrine was asking her, daring her even, to humiliate him in front of all these strangers. He knew she was not necessarily cruel (to others besides him, but then everyone hated HIM), though she was very sharp-tongued, and too sure of herself to permit such an offense to her stature. Even now, the way she let Prince Dafydd kiss her hand, and how she answered him felt unreal. He would never think to challenge his cousin on casual praise or flirting, but it just felt so odd. Ugh, better to let her manage that on her own. She could very likely beat him in a fight, but at least he could contest against her for a good while. In a battle of wits, he would have been a loser before they even begun.
He thought now about how this Prince Dafydd had not seemed obviously upset about not being recognized, excusing his lack of knowledge by stating he hadn’t been much in view... not that it would have helped the not-very-studious Stefan. Now in retrospect though, it had seemed that several of those present hadn’t felt he was such a stranger, which made Stefan feel stupid though no one made even the slightest hint to the idea. He was sure they were all thinking it though.
The Prince’s attention was caught at the word of assassins however, so much that he stared at he who’d mentioned it with a look of indignant disbelief, though still kept silent. He’d escaped such killers in Wrath only barely, having full knowledge of the servants and guards faces so as to recognize a stranger, and the knowledge of the layout of his home. In this strange place, with fires and strangers all around, how was he supposed to tell friend from foe? Shoulders hunching just slightly, and spreading out one foot a few inches to give him a more solid stance, the blond prince left both hands to rest on the straps holding his grand axes, ready to flick up the holding clasp and pull them out in less than a second if need be. Perhaps he’d been a fool to worry about being embarrassed, when he should have concerned himself with the risk to his life among strangers instead. Even Corrine was not necessarily safe for him, as she was the daughter of the king’s brother, and the king was likely the one who wished for his end. He had not noticed the quick appraising glance she’d given him, nor would he have even the smallest suspicion she was worried about him.
The Princess Naedira said some other things, but Stefan dismissed them, more concerned with protecting himself, yet not showing his worry to them. Showing fear brought more hunters, so he needed to look strong. Corrine surprised him then, by pledging herself in a fashion to Princess Naedira (obviously the elder sister, since she was betrothed while the other was not, he decided). Why would she do this? Stefan’s brow wrinkled a bit, not in anger or annoyance, but because he was trying to puzzle out her reasoning. Was it a sort of secondary declaration for Prince Altonair, since Princess Naedira was to be his bride? Or was it merely an echo of what the prince from Patience had said, for whatever reason? He felt very much unsure if he should say anything, and what it should be if he did, for he couldn’t follow the reasons for their actions.
Shouldn’t Prince Altonair be enough to protect his princess? Why wouldn’t either pledge to protect Princess Madelyne, specifically? If he hadn’t had his hands resting on the cool metal of his weapons, it was very likely they would have been fidgeting, as he tried to wrap his brain around this whole thing. If only Lincoln was here, he could follow his lead. Would his elder brother make another kind of semi-flirtatious statement? After hearing how Prince Dafydd and Corrine spoke to each other, he realized his own attempt earlier (though it had been more of a gracious compliment than outright flirtation) was the extent of what he could manage. Reminded of Lincoln, he remembered the gallant heroes in stories the eldest had shared with him on nights when sleep was an enemy... for reasons best not recalled.
“I...” He swallowed slightly as his throat felt more than a little dry. “I would be honored if I might lend the help of my axes to defend the Princess Madelyne, with as much fidelity as my cousin to Princess Naedira.” He had looked up at her, directing the comment to her (for she had no brother or betrothed he could direct it more politely to), though by the end of his sentence he had once more dropped his gaze.
He took a few seconds to prevent himself from showing his mental distress, not having expected Paul to come back. Likely it was the stress of being around so many people, something very rare for the prince. Able to keep himself from making any expression at last, he looked up at Prince Altonair, only hoping he wouldn’t suddenly disagree with his proposal, and state he preferred Prince Dafydd’s or Corrine’s sword arm to protect his betrothed’s little sister. A sudden change of subject that answered the previously asked question seemed to be in order to save face.
“An assassin would be stalking one or more of us all ready. If we are a target, they either know we are here, or will find us.” Uncommonly good logic for the prince, who preferred head-on battles than to strategize and plan. But having had his life in danger in his own home, the habit of watching out for a hired sword or poison was second nature (especially when coupled with his paranoia). “No matter what safe area we head to, we don’t know what’s waiting, or who may be following, making us weak in font and rear. Any door might be a trap, or hold such a person, ready to spring.” He gave a cursory glance at the door the majority of the group had entered from, just to make sure he hadn’t jinxed them.
“But if we stay here, we know this room is empty but for us. We know the exits, even though we don’t know where some of them may lead.” He hadn’t realized it, but his speech was smooth and even by now. The large blond had no self-confidence, but his argument for staying was perfectly logical to him. “If we are overcome, which I doubt, then we can move. But I think it is better to rest here for a little first.”
Then it hit him, how much he’d been talking and debating, and how the others might see large holes in his plan, or just not agree with it. Did it sound cowardly to them?
Now he grit his teeth, and his hands unconsciously undid the clasp of both axes. The steel was Wrathian, shinier and stronger than that of most other countries, and the huge double blades seemed to glint to match the look in his eyes. He wasn’t looking at Prince Altonair anymore, or the others. Rather he was looking around at the high windows and far doors, as if calculating where to aim his weapons at the slightest threat of an assassin. Stefan’s personal wrath was always close to the surface, provoked by almost anything that irritated him too much. Paul’s laughter and the threat to his own safety was enough to practically let it all loose.
Others in the castle held a powerful darkness within them, controlled and muzzled but for times of extreme need. Stefan had no such division, for Paul was that element of him, only twisted like the symptom of severe disease that he was. There was another rage down deep in Stefan as well, as it usually occurred in anyone with Wrathian blood, but it would just be a continuance of him losing his temper. It would be as hard to quell as a volcano that had started smoking, leading to explosions of lava, and finally total obliteration of anything in its path. In another life, perhaps the large ill man would have been a naturally talented berserker.
Too occupied with the way his paranoia started imagining an army of assassins and how to defend against them, Stefan’s back tried to warn him with two vertical twinges of pain. The warning was not heeded as his rising adrenaline continued, though if he was lucky, the situation would be alleviated before he was shamed in front of all these persons.We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone.
Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion
for the moment that we're not alone.
--Orson Welles
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Posted: Fri Jun 22, 2012 1:40 pm
Amarenth Soren Hyuga Kingdom: Envy
Rank: Knight
Location: Kitchen with Maelona and Sokar, I really should be used to such strange things by now… Cross through the night
I looked down and lost my way
my light (()) As Soren worked on the lamb, she only somewhat heard what Maelona was saying to Sokar. Not wanting to eavesdrop, yet unable to keep herself from picking up some of the words. The royal seeming to apologize to the gardener. Likely a show of sympathy since Maelona went on to ask him a question. Involving how could someone do that to Sokar. The knight finding herself shrugging just softly to himself. Some malicious people didn’t need a reason to harm others. They just did it because they could. Though, the particular reason such people did such actions would only be known by that person. Unless they were a blabbermouth of course. The knight getting her mind off those thoughts as she focused back on the lamb. Doing the necessary preparations before she could cook the lamb, and anything else she remembered her friend adding to the dish.
Admittedly, confusion soon splashed across her face at the way the two seemed to have reacted. Had she said something wrong? While Soren didn’t care to hurt people’s feelings, she didn’t like it when she didn’t do it on purpose. It was like how one didn’t like looking stupid on accident. Her gaze moving between them. Trying to figure out what she had said wrong. Only slightly figuring it out when Maelona said something about not wanting to interrupt his meal. Had he not invited her to eat with him? “I see…” The knight trying to find some way to recover herself. Since she likely looked quite stupid right now, and that admittedly hurt her ego. “Well, whatever you want to do then.” Hopefully, that was good enough of a recovery. If not, Soren might have to come up with something else.
The knight looked over at Maelona as she seemed to be talking about how she knew Sokar. Her dark blue hues moving from Maelona to Sokar. The Catacombs being an interesting memory for her. That area being the only time she hoped she had to worry about creatures in the water while here. Though, Soren couldn’t help but remember what she saw earlier between Valas and Lincoln. Finding it more ironic the three had worked together in the Catacombs. Yet, she had found herself a witness of one Catacomb comrade murdering another. However, Soren would likely take her witnessing that to her grave. “It is good to know that you are honorable fighter, Sokar.” Smiling a little at him as curiosity got the best of her. “Though, who was this young princess you were protecting?”
Her eyes blinked a little now when she thought she heard a voice. This time, the voice created a chill that ran down her spine. Making her feel a bit more on edge than before. For while the woman’s voice in her head had been unnerving, it didn’t cause a chill like this one. However, just like before unfortunately, Soren could barely make out what the voice was saying. As if the voice was at a distance currently. Though, why did she keep getting chills? She normally didn’t feel like this unless a spirit was around. But, the knight didn’t see any spirits in the room. Was the knight finally going nuts? It would be no surprise considering her father went crazy. However, as the water started to boil, her eyes widened when Maelona seemed to ask them about a voice!
Did that mean Maelona was sensitive to spirits as well? “If you are meaning the one that sounded kind of creepy, then yes. But…it sounded far off…” At that moment though, Soren felt another chill run down her spine. The voice seeming to become louder. “Whatever it is though….it’s heading this way…” She could not only tell by the voice becoming louder, but by the fact her body was sensing it. Her hand making sure the fire was out from underneath the pot. After all, no need for the kitchen to catch on fire. Moving her hand to grip the handle of her sword as she moved away from the stove. If this was a spirit, her sword would do nothing against it. For her powers only went as far as to see the spirits. Not to exorcise them.
She had learned some techniques to get rid of them of course. However, all of them took prior preparation. Something Soren did not have as whatever it was seemed to be coming closer. “I’ll go investigate it real quick if you two don’t mind.” Soren moved towards the entrance of the kitchen, looking out the doorway. Nothing down either part of the hallway. Maybe it was in one of the nearby hallways? “Don’t worry though, I’ll be back before that water becomes cold.” Smirking a little before moving into the hallway fully. Her dark blue hues looking up and down the hallway. Hearing the voice louder than before. But this time, Soren could actually make out what it was saying. “Evacuate?” For what reason? Only having heard the tell end of the spirit’s statement that time around.
It didn’t take long for Soren to hear the rest though. For suddenly, something very strange started running down the hallway. Causing her to press herself against the wall to dodge the creature. Though, what was it? The knight had never seen anything like it before! Only having seen human spirits and human spirits twisted by malice. Not a spirit like creature like this! But, at least this time, Soren was able to hear the whole message. Eyes blinking a little at the knowledge it imparted before speeding off. A magical fire? She didn’t see any signs of fire. Yet, why would something as strange as that speak words of bullshit? That didn’t seem plausible to her. The knight moving back into the kitchen. Wondering if Sokar and Maelona had seen that creature pass by the open door.
“Unless I have obviously gone mad…I say we heed that spirit’s warning.” After all, there was no harm in obeying its advice. It wasn’t like it was trying to gather them all in one place….right? Shaking her head a little at her own slight paranoia. “Unless you two think we should do otherwise?” The knight was fine with sticking around the kitchen. Since Soren had seen no evidence of a fire near them. Maybe if this fire actually existed, it was in another part of the castle? Unfortunately, Soren was no God, and thus couldn’t figure that out without finding it for herself. Which the knight was not stupid enough to get near fire. Let alone fire that might be enchanted. “For I don’t mind sticking around here…Yet…I can’t help but think we shouldn’t.” A faint shrug leaving her lips as she waited for the other’s opinions. Brought to my knees
Though the darkness surrounds
it pull me down,
I do not sink beneath
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Posted: Fri Jun 22, 2012 2:24 pm
  
Ladies and Gentlemen.... Claus Revelle
Royal Jester of Veritas Where am I?: Armory ~*~ Who am I entertaining?: Elliot and Livia
....Boys and Girls  His frame slowly shook in mirth, the dagger still maintaining its precise balance. "Oh ho, I'm quite certain their surprise wasn't of good spirits at the time! The illusion of me coughing up blood was a bit much, I think." he said, mischief evident in his tone. It was obvious that whatever danger was present within castle walls was momentarily lost on his odd mind. Again, there was no immediate concern over his well being: merely over his companions. Had they not wished to confront whatever dangers they wanted, he would have already whisked them away.
Elliot, the architect, wasted no time in searching for weapons, it seemed. If the jester didn't know better, he might have thought that Elliot was trained in combat. He seemed to know his way around weapons, it seemed. Or perhaps, it was just common knowledge to know how to use weapons? Claus never bothered learning the intricacies of bladed combat in his long life (save for throwing daggers), so such knowledge could be lost on him.
The prospect of possibility learning bladed combat never formed in the jester's head though, as a commotion outside the room did cause his balancing act to falter just a bit. The dagger wiggled dangerously as a dissatisfied grunt rumbled out of the jester, who only exerted minimal effort to steady it before snatching it off his face and throwing it at a weapon's shelf in annoyance. "A ruckus, near us? Quaint!" he said, mild inflections of interest mingling with annoyance through his mask.
What surprised him was the Architect poking his head out the room, yelling at someone, then throwing a knife at them. Claus cocked his head to the side, the imitation of a confused puppy evident as Elliot explained the situation. A man, setting fire to the castle with magic? Elliot killing them with a magnificent knife throw? "How rude of them! No respect for a god's castle."
He turned to Livia, offering an arm to her so that they may escape, when he saw her clasping a blade with her palm, distressing the jester greatly. "Livia, my enchantress! That's not the safe way to hold blades!" he said worriedly, almost rushing to her side. Her spilled blood transforming into something unexpected did halt him, however, as he took in the sight of the otherworldly creature that phased into existence before his very unseen eyes.
Perhaps I should have anticipated such things from a necromancer. Fascinating!
Livia's worn expression did concern him, but she did seem alright enough to give orders to this ominous creature born from her blood. She wanted an evacuation of the castle, probably to ensure that the Justician heirs were safe. An intelligent move, if that was her intention.
As the creature took off, the necromancer was now showing very obvious signs of keeping herself upright, the pang of the fallen dagger connecting with the floor an indicator for her weakness.
"Of course, Enchantress Livia!" he said, rushing to her side and placing an arm around her waist, helping her stand steadily. "Good Elliot, please assist us! We must make our leave!" he called out to the architect, beckoning to him with his free arm. {{{O.O.C.: Claus putting the moves.}}}
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Posted: Fri Jun 22, 2012 3:21 pm
Ɉϕɧɳ Ӎiҫɧɑϵɭ Gɍϵϵɳϵ Kingdom: Fortitude Rank: Prince Location: Outside the Castle again with a Petyr Cromwell of Justice, then heading towards the group that headed to the stream…Something is wrong… White walls surround us
As we sleep among the dead ((If someone wants to auto John into the stream group, or auto him from away from the stream group, they can. Just let me know if you do.)) The angel had not necessarily found Petyr to be insensitive. He just found it a bit odd that he was able to watch such death and still be able to eat. While the angel had seen death before, he couldn’t recall seeing a death like the one that had occurred to Dorian. At least, from what he had heard of how she died. For her death seemed to be over the top while the others had been simple killings. More merciful compared to Dorian’s fate. The angel unable to understand why anyone would want to chop someone in half like that. A part of him a bit glad he likely would never understand. “I would have to say I am not at that point yet. So, I am glad I was in the kitchen and not out there. For I am not sure I would have been able to eat otherwise.”
Only being honest as he now found himself trying to recall meeting Petyr. Never liking being rude on purpose, let alone at all if he didn’t have to be. His fingers lightly scratching the side of his head as if that would help. Though, at least Petyr had not taken offense to him forgetting. Allowing him to feel a bit more at ease. Even if he was still a bit bothered by his forgetfulness. “It is good you do not take offense, even if I still think a bit rude of me to be so forgetful.” Luckily for him, Petyr seemed willing to divulge what had happened the time that they met. By the sounds of it, it really had been a brief hello. Which did make him feel a bit better selfishly. Since at least he knew now why the memory likely hadn’t lingered in his mind for long.
However, John couldn’t help but hear something about James? Who was this James? Was he yet another long lost brother like Gabriel? If that was the case, the angel really didn’t want to know how many actual brothers and sisters he had. Even if the angel would likely would try and figure out who this James was later. Hearing now how Petyr and Haven likely knew each other. Not too well, but maybe enough to where Haven would remember meeting the fellow royal. Making the angel nod and smile faintly. “Yes. Mina has always been somewhat on the sickly side…” Forcing himself to not ask about James. “And Haven is around here somewhere if you wish to meet again. Though, unfortunately, I don’t know where he is exactly.” Soon nodding now at Petyr’s question.
“Yes. Two weeks.” Something that he really wouldn’t wish on anyone. The angel soon listening to Petyr as he commented about him being willing to return the favor. Admittedly, the fellow prince was right in that the angel might have insisted he do something in return. Though, even John knew that there was only so much a person could insist on doing before they became annoying. The angel almost feeling a bit grateful when Petyr gave him something to work with. The task easy enough, even if he would have likely done that anyway. Considering it was only fair they watched each other’s backs. “Alright. Then let that be the task I do in repayment for your help.” Smiling a little as he made some last remark. One that didn’t get responded to as they went down the stairs and started on their way.
As they moved forward, they eventually encountered an area where the smoke had reached. Closing his eyes a little to try and keep the smoke from irritating his eyes. However, that was a bit hard to do. Now moving his shirt a little to cover his mouth and nose. Not wanting to suffer the ill effects smoke tended to have on the body. Causing him to be unable to pick up the same scent that Petyr had. Likely a good thing considering John would have wanted to investigate that at that very moment. His squinted eyes looking towards Petyr at his comment. Just nodding to his question as he followed after Petyr. The two eventually side by side as they moved forward. The two eventually stopping when they reached a more open area. The angel noticing the gesture and soon nodding. Luckily, he ended up not finding anything alarming.
Allowing the two to move forward until Petyr slowed to a stop. Noticing now a group up ahead. John could only recognize some of the faces, such as his father, Ryan, and Lorelei. Though, there was one face that seemed vaguely familiar. Unable to tell where he might have encountered the male(Dante) so protective over Lorelei. This confusion in his mind luckily distracted him from their actual voices. Allowing him to miss the news that had likely entered Petyr’s ears. The angel still trying to shift through his memories in hopes of remembering where he had encountered the male(Dante). Yet, he came up with nothing. About to say something when Petyr beat him to the punch. Looking over at him as Petyr seemed to move closer. Was he trying to make sure they weren’t overheard? While he didn’t know everyone, he didn’t think they could find any enemies amongst them.
Though, when Petyr seemed to sigh and stutter, John knew there was something wrong. For the male before him didn’t come across as one that stuttered. His silver blues looking at Petyr’s eyes as his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Need to what? Is there something wrong?”’ The question slipping from his tongue before he could stop it. But, it was hard for him not to ask. Not when Petyr looked distressed over something. Yet, John just had no idea what it could be over! Did he not get along with one of the people in the group? Did he remember something? “Not that you have to tell me…just…You don’t seem like the type to stutter is all…” Of course, this was just from the few brief moments they had been traveling together. However, first impressions were so important for a reason, and he had no reason, currently, to believe his first impression was wrong.
Petyr soon seeming to answer his question. Listening to him with his eyes blinked slightly. Trying his best to hold back his curiosity, since it was none of his business where Petyr needed to go. However, John found himself noticing how Petyr’s expression almost to appear…sad now? It had to be just him. After all, why would he be sad right now? The hand on his shoulder, while a nice gesture, only confused him more. Finding harder and harder not to ask what was going on. Nodding just slightly at Petyr’s words. Knowing that he intended to do that. Though, that would require finding his mother, Haven, Alexandria, Gabriel, and Mina. As well as this James. Having no idea James was amongst the group of people nearby. “I shall do that.” Soon feeling his shoulder patted a few times.
Still not sure how to take that gesture. Since he had no idea what made Petyr decide to do that. His gaze soon looking over towards the group as Petyr pointed out his father was there. Already having noticed that since it was a bit hard to miss his father. Though, a brother? Could that be why he thought he had met that male(Dante) before? However, there was no time for him to ask. For he, just like Petyr, noticed the group moving away from the area. Heading the direction of what he believed was a stream? The angel couldn’t quite recall right off the top of his head. His lips moving slightly into a faint smile at Petyr’s own smile. “I thank you for your assistance. May we be able to speak in calmer times as you said.”
The angel starting to move forward to follow the group. Though, as he looked around, he couldn’t help but notice two people(Sam and Ella) that seemed to be like him and Petyr. Bystanders to the group that still was moving in the direction of a possible stream. Wondering if he should approach them and speak to them. Yet, when John turned back to ask Petyr, he was already gone. Likely having believed he had made it to the group already. A faint shrug going through his mind as he looked at the two. Feeling bad for the mental intrusion he would have to do to speak to them. But, in good conscious, he couldn’t just let them stand there. “I am sorry for this, but I believe it would not be wise to stand around this forest for long.”
After all, if someone did set the fire, he didn’t want to find out if that person was still around or not. Let alone let these people encounter that person. “If you wish, you may join me since I plan to follow that group to the stream.” Pointing to where the group had gone. But by now, they had disappeared into the depths of the forest. “Otherwise…I wish you both safety and peace.” That was all John could do as he started to follow down the path the group looked to have taken to the stream. His mind still buzzing with possibly meeting yet another brother he had never known. Yet, maybe Petyr had just been seeing things! Though, John didn’t think Petyr would say that and not mean it. Thus, all John could do was gather all the courage within him and keep pushing forward.
Just hoping that when he finally reached the group, he would not have yet another awkward family reunion. We can chase the dark together
As the sky returns to grey
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Posted: Sat Jun 23, 2012 5:28 pm
 Where: Near the Abbey// By the stream
With: The group outside of the Abbey.
A male’s voice caught her attention and silver pools shifted from the heir, which whom she still waited on an answer, and toward another. He was also an heir and one from the kingdom of Humility. She’d seen him before yet it was a place with buildings made of glass and the memory caused her brows to furrow together. Yet just as quickly as the glimmer entered her mind it was gone and the more she pressed to find it again a sharp pain cut through her skull. Her fingers lifted, pressing to her temple as she looked away from the heir and closed her eyes. Thick dark lashes pressed against her cheeks as her brow creased, the pain was too much to bare and she quickly shoved aside all thoughts of the land with buildings of crystal that reached into the heavens.
Quickly Micah slid her fingers through her hair, brushing back the silver mass as she smoothed over her features and opened her eyes looking back toward the son of Humility and held her breath. Certain that his words would only cause a domino effect. Causing more and more people to insist on staying in such a large group while it would make it slightly easier to defend it would not however make it easier to go unseen. A flock of surely emotionally unstable royals---easy pickings. Especially whom ever had stood toe to toe with Haven Greene, who was once a man rumored to be very talented with a blade. If he had fallen what chance could they possibly have?
Now as the young princess took a moment to think, perhaps she was too rash in her judgment. Then again this would not be the first time in her doing so. Her life since coming to the God’s realm had left her feeling out of sorts. Her blood that always caused her some problems just seemed that much more…powered. Causing her to be irrational she pressed her lips together and looked toward her sister who before she could say anything more was pulling herself up with the aid of both Cat and James. A pang of longing plunged into Micah’s gut. If there was one thing that her sisters had that she longed for the most was their relationship. She doubted that Cat could do any wrong in the eyes of the youngest or the other way around.
Watching them all the former Heiress could think of was just how lonely she was. Her silver orbs trailed over her siren kin and then to the newly proclaimed Heiress as another pang struck her gut. In this moment of crisis it rested in the hands of the one day rulers to speak for their family, for their kingdom and here she was so use to that duty resting upon her head that she spoke first. Of course she spoke out of need to protect her younger siblings and not as royalty but still it was not her place. Her mind raced to extend an apology to her sister, yet would that make this situation that much worse? The half-breed quickly pressed her lips together and held her tongue as well as kept her mind from forming the link to her sister. Instead the young woman rose, caring little for being graceful or poised as Lorelei’s voice pulled her attentions away from her own thoughts.
The princess stood silently as her youngest sibling agreed with Ryan. Yet what surprised Micah the most was what spilled from the new Heir’s lips. He did not immediately shut down her plea and as her gaze shifted toward him she had already accepted defeat at that point but he didn’t shoot it down just as quickly as the others did. For that she was thankful.
As Cat began to speak a sound echoed through the land, more of a sketch really, causing the young woman’s hands to lift to her ears. She grimaced at the pitch of the sound the spoke of more fire. Her eyes shifted toward the castle hunting for any sign of fire. Slowly scanning the windows she spotted a faint orange glow that seemed to be moving much faster than a natural fire should. Her brows furrowed magic? She thought, her mind racing to think of a spell that may have caused it. Jumping at the sound of the new heir’s voice her gaze turned toward him at suggestions of a stream near by. The young princess made no move to leave her siblings even though some may have preferred if she had. Instead she quietly followed near her siblings and when they arrived to the stream she felt an itch to do something….anything. She pressed her lips together and looked down at the small body of water. It was probably to chilled and unclean to be used for cleaning wounds and by how Lorelei had moved upon standing she was sure that her ankle was injured.
Her mind reached out for Dante, thinking he would be the better to approach, for she was sure if she tried to talk to Lorelei or Cat she may come back with missing limbs. Her mind reached out for him. -Dante do you have any cloth you may be able to spar so that we might be able to wrap Lorelei’s ankle and clean it if there is a wound? The water doesn’t quiet look that sterile but I can heat up some of it with my…ability.- She asked him, her brow raising slightly. By her ability she meant what came with her angelic blood. The ability to summon more or less lightning. If used right she was sure that she’d be able to heat up the water and kill off anything dangerous. Plus the heat might feel good for the siren’s ankle.
-Though… I fear if the idea comes from me our sister would turn it down even before I finished my request.- She uttered softly as her gaze shifted toward Lorelei. She had no doubts that she’d deny any kindness coming from her yet her gaze shifted away from them and toward James who spoke to Ryan about leaving to search for the assassin.
-Your majesty…- Her mind gingerly brushed the heir of fortitude's. -If I may be so bold, If you choose to leave have solace in knowing your father and my sister will be kept safe.- Even if she’d rather turn the King into something crispier…at least singeing his coat a bit…for the way he spoke of her sister. But James had gone against his father and offered an olive branch to her family. For that she was thankful.
But if they did go she would be sure to not allow anyone with in yard of those seeking refuge here else dare they try it would be the last thing that they would do. Her attentions shifted away from him and briefly looked toward her sister before turning around and looking back the way they came. Her eyes sweeping the area, her sharp senses stretching out as far as she was able. While she waited on Dante to reply, she just prayed that he would ask for her help rather than making it appear it was her idea all along. She knew her sister would resist her help at all costs. But if their brother were to ask her to help it would be a different matter---or so she hoped.
ooc//
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 11:49 am
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... Millicen'ts gaze hardened at the heiress' comments of her husband, not out of devotion to his memory, but the rude manner in which she seemed to so easily dismiss him. The baroness at least pretended to honor the deceased,a s was expected go them. The least Cecelia could do was show the proper respect. She held her tongue, however, watching as the princess stuck her head through a door to examine the room beyond, Belle quick to call the princess back. Millie put her own two cents into the situation, though it went unheeded, the princess instead dismissing the thought of drawing attention to herself and criticizing the baroness on her choice of attire. If Millie were lesser woman, she would have had it out with the heiress then and there. Instead, however, she merely smiled, playing off her increasing annoyance with her grace's demeanor with a polite smile and soft chuckle, as if what she'd heard as indeed the funniest thing in the world. " At least you'll have one of your own caliber to keep company," she responded to Cecelia's statements about another ghost i the castle. She hoped it really was a butler, or someone of lower standing. That would just be too perfect, all things considered. The princess moved further into the room, examining the bed, which apparently met her satisfaction. OF course, Millie felt like she paled when the princess announced that she was going to need entertainment at all hours of the night, given her condition, asking where the baroness' room was located. " Of course your Grace, you know I relish any opportunity to spend time with the heirs of Prudence. My room is but a few doors away. Should you need anything, I'll have a handmaiden ready to receive your request at any hour." Her form sunk into a small curtsy, mentally screaming at the thought of being at the girl's beckon call at all hours of the day and night. Perhaps it wasn't too late to change rooms and insist that it was at their host's direct request. But, the damage had already been done, and there was nothing that would protect her now. Perhaps she'd have to find other ways to spend her evenings outside of her room, just in case the princess grew bored. Cecelia moved to the window, leaving Millicent a brief moment to allow her emotions to break through the mask she's grown so accustomed to wearing, though everything snapped back into place at the princess' concerned tone to some events outside. Her steps were quick as she too crossed to the window, blue eyes traveling over the plume of smoke in the distance, down to the form of people running from the castle. Were they under attack? An eerie voice filled the halls, a glimpse of some grotesque creature crossing the halls as it called for evacuation of the castle. There was certainly no doubt something was afoot within these walls. Something that called for them to exit the castle with as much haste as possible. " Lady Belle, see that her Grace is escorted from the castle. Her state doesn't ensure her safety from all magics of this world." Unfortunately. Millicent turned from the window, nodding to the Archer that she should attend to her duties as the baroness made her way towards her room to gather her handmaidens, in case they had not heard the call for evacuation of the castle. They were too valuable an asset to her to lose on her first day here. It is wiser that a person of prudence and purpose save her strength for battles that can be won.
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Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 3:16 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: Steam ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ 
Dante followed his siblings and their party, giving them enough room between him and them to allow them to fall back if they were attacked again. His voice was silent but his eyes darted to and fro searching for potential dangers. The only potential danger he would welcome right now was the fact that at any minute his siblings could be at each others throats.... Figuratively and literally.
He was well aware that his family was a ticking time bomb, one he suspected would probably burst before this war was over. He had a strange feeling that if Cat did not take the throne soon and fix the damage his father had done, not only to the family but to the people, the kingdom of Lust might be lost. At least the Lust that everyone knew now.
He gave Micah a raised brow at her statement. ~No offense, but I believe Cat might be better suited for the aspect of boiling water.~ He was unsure what unseen effects lightning would have on water. He knew enough that being in water when lightning struck it was a terrible terrible idea, he could only guess using it to heat water was just as bad an idea.
Dante placed his bow on the ground, still strung, and pulled off his outer shirt. He placed it gently on the ground and ripped off a piece of cloth from the under shirt, which was currently white but he figured would soon be some other colour. He ripped off a few pieces and knelt by Cat.
"Here, use these to cover the wound after we clean it." He raised his hand and pointed it towards the stream and almost immediately the water met an invisible force. He made a crude cup out of his mental ability and let it fill with water. After it filled he lifted to cup from the water with no more than a motion of his eyes and a slight flick of his wrist.
The cup floated near Cat and he began to strip away layers of his shield so that the heat from her powers would more easily heat the water. His shields were not impervious to heat, but he didn't want his sister using too much energy heating water if there was another fight in store for them.
"If you can heat the water to boiling it should rid it of anything that could bring more harm to the wound, and cause infection." He leaned back on his heels now, switching his position so that he could pounce into action if needed. His eyes flickered to Lori and he smiled at her, "Everything's okay now, Lori, we'll make you all better." His childish smile and words showed his true colours, he was still but a boy.
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
♕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: Thu Jun 28, 2012 5:51 pm
 Rank: Prince, second in line to the throne. . . Location: Gallery
That he'd remained elusive to the higher circles in royalty had made it difficult for those not overly familiar with his family to know just who he was. That of course, in Dafydd's mind was a forgivable offense, lest the persons in questions were expected to be omnipotent. His head fell forward with a bow when Naedira stated he was kind, a smile marking his features genuinely.
This was exactly why Thantos did not deserve to sit upon the throne, never would his tongue be comprised of silver, never would he dance so effortlessly through the games and trials of court. His older brother remained lame, stricken by his own fears – a quality in a king that left the second eldest dubious on his brother's ability to rule. “Humility has long been considered one of our greatest allies – the Rileys truly a gem amongst society.” Especially the daughters, who were a tall goblet of wine for the most thirsty of men. While Naedira had been hesitant to form formalities in her brother and father's place, he felt no such qualms.
Patience would one day be his. To forge these trusts now would only strengthen his hand when he sat upon the throne. Nodding to the beauty's words, Dafydd's eyes set upon hers. “You are wise beyond your years, princess. Casualties of war happen, they are to be expected. But always, at least one person shall mourn their loss. Most assuredly, many were affected with the sudden deaths that transpired today.” A sigh passed between his lips and he turned to those of the Sinful realms. “If I may offer my condolences to the loss of your allies today.” Dorian's family was well known to be interlaced with the other dark kingdoms – they'd had their finger in many pies. “I hope that you'll find peace with the new rule.” That, he felt would be certain.
Dominique's rise to power could bring an end to Humility's fight, if only because she wouldn't condone the stealing of the common folk for breeding. The former's line had been overrun with watered down lines, in efforts to keep their blood pure. But many had ended up infertile, much too plagued from inbreeding to sire a son.
For many years now, Dorian and her family had tricked Humility into believing they were comrades... but every time they left, they took more of their people with them. It was only recently that the king had found out, and had to declare war upon the grounds. No doubt Naedira and her siblings were oblivious to the cause, being so far away from home when it happened.
But, it would only end if their pride wouldn't swell, tainting their thoughts against Dominique for slaying the would-be Queen before them all.
A small chuckle left him with Naedira's description of the castle. “An apt way to put it, I'm certain. So many enemies,” He didn't bother to look at Altonair as he spoke, intentionally leaving it subject to determine whether or not he truly thought the man a nemesis, “residing under one roof will strain many's patience. I would not be surprised if there is more bloodshed before we are able to return to our respective houses.”
He gently explained what had transpired in recent events, not at all surprised with her reaction at the mention of assassins. “I do so hope as well.” Unless they killed Thantos, in which case he'd be saved from the burden. Naedira voiced that it should be those with the ability to fight that should decide whether or not to stay in the gallery. Her fretting was nearly palpable, and the prince's features contorted into something of sympathy. “I am certain that they shall prevail.”
He shook his head, when the princess stated she''d be a burden more than aid. “No maiden is ever a burden for a gentleman.” Much less three of them. Corrine said much the same thing, and he smiled briefly at her.
If the son ab Rhys had any indication of how much his enemy despised him in these moments, it was not revealed in any sort of way – but he could guess that Altonair was merely gritting his teeth, tense as his entire body was wrought with hatred and envy. He agreed with the man, and the statement elicited a arched eyebrow from the sinful prince, and countered the need to move with a question.
The ball was in his court now, and he fought the urge to smirk – knowing just how well he could play this game. Mouse, meet the cat who plans on eating you for dinner. “I would suggest that we migrate to the older parts of the castle, the changing corridors. As easy as it is for us to find ourselves lost there, having stayed here for some time... we could logically hope that the same would happen to those who wish us dead.” And knowing how arbitrary the paths in the manse tended to be would work on their side; they'd be prepared.
But Stefan brought with him logic, the room they were in now was empty, so without an intruder stalking in, they knew it to be safe. He nodded kindly to what the Wrathian had to say, appearing more like a general, carefully laying plans than he did the spoiled son of a King. “I will concur to the statement, I only wish that there were not so many ways to find oneself here.” For now, he'd stay.
As soon as the sentiment hung in the air, the command to evacuate pierced his ears. Magical fire.... meaning that they couldn't put it out, and it was like to raze the castle to the ground. “It sounds as though the fire has erupted in the castle as well. Forgive my saying this, Prince Altonair ab Wood, Stefan ab Masterson, but if the assassins don't reach us here, the smoke most certainly will. Already wisps of black smog danced through the cracks to the doors, indicating that the flames would soon follow.
With Morbid on leave, I was asked to post. However, I will be willing to take this down if she comes back soon, and wants to insert herself in the regular order.
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Posted: Thu Jun 28, 2012 7:30 pm
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ Princess of Humility || In a gallery || Wearing This Dress || Weapon ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ Madelyne took no notice to how Naedira's face flushed when she saw Corrine, as the younger princess was focused on the prince of Patient's confident assurance of the never-ending alliance between the Humilty and Patient kingdoms. She was glad to know that Humility's ties were still strong... And now felt some regret in her thoughts toward the prince. It was not kind of her to judge him so strongly. Even if she still disliked his manner and conversation skills, she had to respect him... At least a little... She was happier now that she knew his kingdom and his name, Dafydd. She knew less about him than of his brother, Eoghan, but she figured, as the prince had said, that was because he had withdrawn from the courts for some time... Not that that would matter really, considering she was kept hidden, alive, in a secluded area, unbeknownst to the Humility and all other kingdoms...
Naedira expressed gratitude over Patient's continued alliance, as their father nor brother could do so in her place. They would be glad to hear it, of course... Madelyne wondered suddenly of her brother and father's well-being. Were they aware of what was happening? Were they in a safe location? Were they protected? She could not help but worry for them, though she was sure, if they knew what was occuring, that they were concerned for them as well...
It was while she was distracted with concern that Dafydd continued to speak of Humilty and complimented her sister. He then forgave Stefan for not knowing him and properly introduced himself. With his greeting to Corrine shortly following that, Madelyne regretted regreting her judgements toward him. He was overflowing with the greatest happiness in meeting her apparently... The pompous, courtly man that he was of course had to acheive the best reputation he could from giving compliments toward Corrine. Madelyne could only hope the Arch Duchess wasn't impressed... Though it seemed the opposite occured. Corrine was delighted and just as flirtatious and complimentary as the prince... Madelyne pleaded internally that they would keep that conversation to the minimum in her presence.
She was happy at least when Dafydd's smile faded at the explanation of the day's events. He had needed a reality check... Despite his words of understanding toward the murders, he seemed to only be saying what he thought they needed to hear: agreement that the losses were saddening and his deepest condolences. Corrine, in response to the explanation, quickly swore to be of assistance to Naedira, should she desire it. But then Dafydd said a word that none of those in attendance wanted to hear. Assassins.
Naedira immediately reached for Madelyne's hand, which the younger princess grasped firmly. Surely Veritas would have kept watch to make sure assassins would not enter his kingdom? Does he not wish for some peace? Dafydd stated that he wanted to remain with them, in case such stories were true. If they were, Madelyne dearly hoped that her family and acquaintances would stay safe... She wasn't sure what she would do if any of them died, especially not her family. Not after she had reconnected with them.
With the uproar about the assassins, both Altonair and Dafydd began to discuss moving the group elsewhere, which Madelyne did not agree with. They had become familiar with the area and had a couple escape routes- should they be needed. Why leave when they were safe? She was glad to hear, however, that Altonair was actually against the move. He was right. It would be too dangerous, considering.
Madelyne could handle a fighting situation... If she had her bow on hand. She hadn't needed it since the Catacombs, so it's been tucked securely away in her bedroom. Her magic would do no good either. She would only be able to heal those injured. Her powers in nature aren't manipulative and violent either; she can only create within nature.
Naedira's statement of how she would burden them should they move caused Madelyne's hand to tighten on hers. She knew her sister was exhausted by her use of magic. That reason only added to her list of reasons why they should stay put. Corrine was quick to argue against her sister's words though, as was Dafydd. Madelyne had to admit that the Arch Duchess was kind to swear to protect her sister, surprisingly so... She did not know where this alliance was coming from, but she figured they had a connection she was unaware of.
More surprising than Corrine's pledge was Stefan's. Madelyne's face flushed with his words, along with his direct gaze, which he quickly cast down. "My Lord... That is very kind of you," she said, unsure of how to react to such a proposal. "I thank you..." She in turn averted her gaze, because of how flustered she was, or because of his own reaction, she wasn't sure. She only hoped Naedira did not notice.
Stefan jumped right into the previous topic, whether they should stay or go. Madelyne listened intently and was glad he seemed to think the same as she did, though his approach was more militaristic.
Surprisingly, Dafydd also agreed with Stefan. She thought for sure that he would not change his mind, but the prince of Patience proved her wrong... That is, until an evacuation command was sounded. The fire is in the castle?! Madelyne thought, panicked. She wanted nothing more than the confirmation that her father and brother were safe. Where were they?! There was nothing she could do... There was no way to find them right now. Dafydd was right. They weren't safe in the gallery. She could see tendrils of black smoke around the door, fighting its way in... But where would they go?
{o.c.c. I'm back! c: Let me know if I missed anything ~ }
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Posted: Fri Jun 29, 2012 8:51 pm
❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ xxxxxLet me take the fall. Let me take the blame. xxxxxxxxxxxxxLet me carry you from hell to home again. xxxxx━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀ Let me be your armour. Let me be your shield.
Let me take away the pain you feel. (Your armour.)  Let me be the light that guides your way through darkest night.
Let me be your armour. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀
Let me walk for you when your legs are weak.xxxxx
Let me find the words for you when you can't speak.xxxxxxx
❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━xxxxx
Fandral Vincent Wolfram xx Avarice xx Vice Marshal / Conduit xx Dominique's room xxx  It was not very long into his slow, melancholic melody that the door the Heiress's quarters opened suddenly. He never stopped playing as several of the familiar forms of the Handmaidens filed in, Dominique instantly making herself known, not that Fandral needed any assistance in that department. The heiress commanded the Handmaiden lying before the assassin, to change her guise to that of another. It was a shame that Cere had to leave, as by her expression she appeared to enjoy his music greatly. But even as the single member of his audience left to go along with the task given her, he remained playing his violin; it never please him to end a song prematurely, especially one he'd written with his foremost source of inspiration in mind. If anything, he hoped Dominique would at least enjoy the sampling of the song thus far. If there was a single misplaced note that she found distasteful, he would rewrite that entire measure.
He continued to play his song even as the Heiress addressed him, bow sliding across the strings slightly softer so he could hear her more clearly. He turned his eyes toward the woman, letting her know that despite his playing he was indeed paying attention. She explained to him that a Duke of Avarice was waiting for his approval, and was expecting to meet with the Heiress after. She further explained that the King sent the Duke as further protection. Fandral might have questioned whether or not the King trusted him, but in the man's defense the assassin did spend his entire adult life building a reputation of deviousness, so such a notion could be easily forgiven. Such was the reputation of an assassin; one who would easily change loyalties over a difference in wages was never one to be trusted. In all frankness, Fandral might have thought the man either blinded by faith or stupid if he did not send someone else, if only to make sure he was truly as loyal as he'd promised.
He loved the King as he would a father, but naivety was unacceptable, especially when it came to his mistress's safety.
He suddenly stopped playing, and went to put away the instrument in its rather heavily adorned case as Dominique continued speaking to him and some of the Handmaidens prepared to escort him out. She warned him that the man awaiting his confirmation smelled of demon lineage, and that it appeared to be his nature as opposed to mere influence. She then said something that made the right side of his lips curve upward in a wry smirk. "Do not worry. My blade-brother was a demon." He intentionally placed emphasis on the word 'was', to imply more than what was actually true. Knowing him better than anyone, she would likely catch his meaning, even if he was not being serious at all. He flashed her a look that said 'No promises' as he walked towards the door, nodding as he walked by her and pulled his hood to osbcure most of his face but from the nose down. As he reached the door, he stopped for a moment and turned to face Dominique's general area. "Vous sentez une odeur de l'eau douce.*" The scent was faint, but he recognized it all the same as he passed her. "Interesting," he said as he opened the door and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
As he stepped out his obscured eyes took in the sight of the man held at the door by the two guardsmen at the door. He could not pinpoint what it was, but there was something vaguely familiar about the man. And it was not the faint scent of brimstone that he had known so well from spending years with his blade-brother Richard that was such. No, something else about him, but yet he could not place it. Any emotion he had shown before was completely gone, and the very little the Duke could likely see of his face reflected such. His voice followed in line, his words coming out with the same complete void of emotion most monks and tranquils practiced daily. "Bonjour. You must be the Duke that was mentioned by one of the Handmaidens. Ma maîtresse shall be out to greet you personally shortly." He did not say anything further, but let his cold eyes scrutinize the man's form for any possible dangers. Duke or not, the assassin would have absolutely no qualms about snapping the man's neck should he in any way prove a danger to Dominique; anyone at all was fair game if she so demanded it. "I trust that you have documentation to prove you are who you say you are, and that your reasons for being here are genuine. On ne peut jamais être trop sûr*." Perhaps he was being far more formal than what was necessary, but that was what he needed to be in the eyes of others.
To eyes other than those of Dominique, he would be nothing more or less than her right hand, or her fist when the need arose. It was as he had said before; he was her sword, and she his sheathe. But perhaps a more accurate description was that he was the sword, and she the hand that brandished it.
Not too long after there was a sudden harsh voice in the air. He only caught the slightest glimpse of the source pass by, but whatever the grotesque thing was, Fandral would fight it off if it threatened him or the Heiress. It did not take more than a moment to pass for Fandral to be found with his blades drawn and in a stance ready to do battle with whatever came his way, from whatever direction. He did not care what the creature said, fact or fiction, he did not trust any of the castle's denizens to not use the chaos of the moment to attack any unsuspecting rival heir. But before anyone could attack them, Dominique finally stepped out of her quarters. The assassin's stance relaxed a bit as the Heiress addressed the Duke, informing him that any conversations would have to wait until later, as there were more pressing matters to attend to. Matters such as evacuation of a castle that could very well burn down around them. "I agree." He turned to the guards. "Knights, lead the way. I shall take the rear." *Google-fied French: 1. You smell of freshwater.
2. One can never be too sure.❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀
Let me take the blows that were meant for you.
Let me help you with the trials you're going through.
Let me keep you safe from the world outside.
Let me wipe away the tears that fill your eyes.
Let me keep you from experience you need.
Let me bind you with my selfishness and greed.
Let me stifle you. Let me have control.
Let me smother every aspect of your soul.
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Posted: Sat Jun 30, 2012 9:30 pm
Merry archer, bold and strong,
Roaming oer life's trackless way,
Ranging through the forest long,
Did'st thou wound a heart to-day? Kingdom: Prudence
Location: Cecelia's bedroom to Castle grounds
It was so hard to stay quiet when so many opinions were running rampant in her head
So so hard….
But true to her position in life Belle remained silent as Cecelia and Millie chatted, Cecelia being her rude royal self. Before Belle had the opportunity, Millie pushed the door open allowing the three of them to enter. The room was small, but Cecelia didn’t seem to care. Neither did Belle for that matter, all the archer cared about was the safety of the two women and the rest of the royal family. Speaking of them, where on earth were they? This castle couldn’t be THAT big….could it?
While pondering the rest of her charges, Belle meandered inside, visible cringing when Cecelia regarded Millie’s late husband with a blasé attitude. “Your Highness…” Belle started, wanting to diffuse the situation before it became worse, but as usual the Princess moved on to something else; her bringing attention to her situation.
Heaving a sigh as the two women kept going Belle surveyed the room again, being a bit more discreet as she checked for possible security issues. It was small, perfect for hiding perhaps a person, two at most. The closet, under the bed and in the windowsill behind the curtains were the only hiding spots. Not to hard to detect people in those areas. As for the window, it was perfect for an archer to aim out of but that was a two way road; if Belle could shoot enemies out the window, said enemies could shoot things into the window as well. “Duly noted.” She mumbled to herself while Cecelia went on about needing company. The Princess demanded Millie report on where her room was so that Cecelia could call on her at any time. Hiding a frown, Belle’s heart went out to the Duchess. Who on earth would want to spend so much time with Cecelia? But Belle would have to disclose her location as well.
“Princess” Began Belle “Forgive my intrusion on the conversation but I am next door if you need me as well.” With that, Belle bowed at the waist and went to check out the bathroom. Enemies could be hiding there as well, you know…
Just as Belle was checking out the scene from the bathroom window, she saw people scurrying around like chicken’s with their heads cut off. Cecelia exclaimed something similar and bolting out of the bathroom Belle heard something in the halls, calling for their evacuation. “Princess, we need to leave the castle.”
Millie echoed Belle’s sentiments and was correct in her statement; being a ghost did not mean that certain magics would not effect her. “Of course, if you are not outside shortly my Lady I will be back for you. Be safe.” And with that Millie ran out of the room.
“Princess…” but Cecelia had floated to the door, shouting at Millie to come back and to not leave her. “Cecelia!” shouted Belle, this was not the time to be arguing about safety. “I am sorry to raise my voice Princess but we must leave, we need to evacuate the castle!” Apparently Belle’s voice had startled the Cecelia, for the woman agreed and followed Belle out of the castle and onto the grounds.
Archer, in this forest dark,
Thou hast scope to prove thy skill
Cast thine eyes abroad and mark
Lurking vice and rampant ill. Out Of Character: This is crap, but I think Belle is basically around to set up Cecelia's posts ^_^;;
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 8:55 pm
Princess of Prudence
Location: Bedroom to outside
In the presence of: Belle
Cecelia disregarded Millie’s remark on having someone of her own kind to be with. So there was another ghost in the castle, nothing to be excited over. Though maybe he would be able to keep Cecelia company instead of Millie. The woman did bore the Princess some times, what with her ramblings of fashion and parties. Perhaps Millie needed some sort of party intervention; she did throw an awful lot of them.
However Cecelia was much more interested in what was going on outside and her thoughts skittered to the people blow. Finding company for the late hours could wait. “What do you think is going on?” the ghost woman asked her companions. When she turned around, Cecelia had a fleeting glance of Millie as she ran out the door, apparently going to her own room. “Millie! Millieeeee!” she shouted, floating toward the door, wanting the Duchess to go with her and Belle. “Millie come back! They are just servants! I am mor…” Cecelia stopped mid sentence as Belle jumped in front of her. “Is Millie saying her servants are more important than me? I may be dead but I am the most important person, I AM!” she shouted, her ghostly form rippling with rage.
The Princess might have kept ranting, she might have even stepped right through Belle, but that didn’t happen because Belle shouted, something Belle didn’t do. The archer shouted to get Cecelia’s attention, to prove a point; the castle was on fire and they needed to get out and fast. Realizing that the woman was correct, Cecelia simply nodded, apparently deciding her self centered tantrum could be held off for the time being.
Belle instructed Cecelia to exit the room and go immediately outside, because the archer had to run to her room to grab something. Nodding Cecelia exited the room and began to tread down the hall. Several rooms away from Millie’s ,Cecelia heard someone frantically talking. From the sounds it seemed to be a woman, and when she drew closer, the talking was indeed coming from a woman who was being held captive by a hooded man who held a dagger to her throat. The woman was crying, saying repeatedly that she didn’t know anything, that she had no idea about…..about something. Between the screams of servants and the ruckus of the castle burning, Cecelia couldn’t hear what the woman was denying having knowledge of. “Belle…Belle….?” Cecelia called out, unable to take her eyes off the scene in front her. When the two heard Cecelia, the man slit his captive’s throat, not hesitating in the least. “St…stay back….” Cecelia shouted as she floated backwards. The assassin in front of her said nothing, only charged forward, plunging his dagger into the area where Cecelia’s heart should have been. Shrieking, eyes shut and holding her hands and arms in a defensive position, Cecelia heard a sickening ‘splat’ sound, and when she opened her eyes, the assassin was on the floor, an arrow lodged in his cranium. “Be…Be…Belle?” Cecelia stuttered. Confirmation that it was Belle came a second later, as the archer stepped forward, a second bow on her shoulder. “Who were they?” she asked as Belle examined the bodies.
" An assassin and a hand maiden. I am afraid the woman was a servant of Lady Millie’s. Thankfully he used a mortal weapon on you. Princess, go first and I will be behind you.”
Cecelia nodded, speechless as she continued to hold a hand over her non-existent heart.
Once outside on the lawn, it was apparent that the castle was on fire. Smoke slowly spilled out of some windows, rooms that Cecelia had no idea existed nor did she know what was in them. “What now?” she asked, wondering if the castle would be burned to the ground, leaving everyone homeless or forced back to their respective kingdoms.Out Of Character: Assassin added with permission, Millie's hand maiden murdered with permission. We all good. ^-^
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2012 10:51 pm
 Ӄɨɍɨϙȿ Ďɍɇɨȿȿɇὴ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✠ Ӄingdom: Justice
Ɍank: General
Ƚocation: Halls
Ⱦhoughts: Familiar faces... ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✠  Kirios could not help but let out a loud, hearty laugh as the knight before him jested at his expense. The General made his own jokes about the man, it was only fair he allow the knight to do the same; it was how his brothers in arms typically treated each other, making otherwise insensitive remarks while still somehow highly respecting each other. It was the same as if he were the older brother in a very large family; there was love there, hidden deep beneath miles of lighthearted ribbing and practical jokes. "Frankly, my dear Alistair, you can have the job," he said with a chuckle in his tone. "It would keep me away from the nasty business of politics and give me ample opportunity to..." His eyes followed a passing by servant woman whom was certainly a delight to behold. "Socialize with the company we'd be sharing." The deviousness in his eyes and tone would be impossible to hide, and he would not try even if he could.
Alistair of all people knew there was only one thing the General enjoyed more than battle, and that was the company of women, the more diverse the better.
Alistair followed up with some questions regarding the state of the castle and their company. Kirios thought about the question for the moment, considering the people he'd met so far. Naturally, the first two that came up in his mind were the ever-enchanting Wrathian Arch Duchess Corrine, and the younger yet somehow just as charming Lustian Lorelei Gavini. "So far the women I've met are the best thing about this castle. I'd not mind pretending to be friendly for them," he responded with a smirk. "But to answer your question, I've not met any of our enemies thus far. Only strangers and potential allies have I come across. But it does seem to me that most of the combat we will be facing here will be the kind with words." As the idea was spoken it was clear in his expression that it left a sour taste in his mouth. Battle was meant for the sword and shield, the fist and steel, and in his case the human soul projected into a chain. To fight with words was simply not a warrior's calling, and he hated that he might be forced to fight in such a way in the near future. Cloak and dagger politics was for the weak. "Why do I feel as if I have been demoted?"
His mind then was brought back to the Wrathian, as well as her cousins. It was then that he remembered the rather important events that had transpired with the Wrathian named Lincoln. "I have, however, come upon some interesting information and possible future allies from the most unlikely of sources." He brought himself a bit closer to the knight in order to speak to him in a more hushed tone. "Lincoln Masterson, the Heir of Wrath, has slain Valas Entreri, the Church's false heir," he let on with a smirk. It had been a surprising development, that. The elf had been a poor representation of their Kingdom for far too long, and if the Wrathian had not corrected that injustice the General himself would have. "I think such a development should merit a reward, don't you think? I think it is something we should inform the King, or his Heir, about right away." He got the feeling that in the near future he would be seeing a lot more of the children of Wrath in this Castle, an idea not unwelcome to the General. Particularly welcome was the thought of Corrine spending more personal time with him; perhaps the two could spar, in more than just combat hopefully. "They are expecting me for food and wine. I do not think they would mind if you join us."
But before anything ore could be said, their conversation was interrupted by an old familiar presence. He felt it before he heard the voice, a sudden pang in his stomach and a ringing in his ear that only came whenever there was magic being used near him. Some kind of spell was headed his way. His eyes suddenly paled to a completely blank pulsing white glow that signified that he was using his own special brand of magic. A few chain links sprouted forth from his palms, ready to extend themselves and strike at Kirios's thoughts. He turned in the direction of the presence without warning Alistair. But before anything could attack, he heard a familiar voice booming ahead. "A magical fire has erupted within the castle. Evacuate. Evacuate now!" His brow cocked in confusion beneath his helm, relaxing only when he saw the beast gallop toward them, and in moments it was gone to warn others. "Styx? Livia is here?" he muttered to himself. It was no wonder he sensed such strong, familiar magic. It had been a long while since he'd spoken to the necromancer, and he hoped he would have that chance soon, but for now it might have been best to heed such a warning. He turned his head back to Alistair, eyes still glowing. "I think it would be best to do as Styx says." ((OOC: Crappy post is crappy.)) A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead. I'm frozen to the bones, I am...
A soldier on my own, I don't know the way. I'm riding up the heights of shame.
I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest. I'm ready for the fight, and fate.
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head, the thunder of the drums dictates
The rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths, the rising of the horns ahead.
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Posted: Wed Jul 04, 2012 4:18 am
  XXXXXXXClouds will rage on...Storms will race in.
XXXXXXXBut you will be safe...in my arms.
XXXXXXXRain will pour down...Waves crash around.
XXXXXXXBut you will be safe...In my arms.
XXXXXXXStorybooks...Full of fairytales..
XXXXXXXOf Kings and Queens...
XXXXXXX...And the bluest skies...
XXXXXXXMy heart is torn...
XXXXXXXJust in knowing...
XXXXXXXYou'll someday see; Truth from lies.
XXXXXXXCastles may crumble...
XXXXXXXDreams; May not come true.
XXXXXXXYou are never all alone.
XXXXXXXBecause I will always...
XXXXXXXAlways love you.Kingdom of: Humility, First Princess
Location: Gallery
Quote: "To be humble to superiors is duty, to equals courtesy, to inferiors nobleness..." She never noticed that Prince Stefan of Wrath might have taken her thanks as an insult. It wasn’t as if he gave much away of his inner thoughts regardless. Naedira merely thought to sooth his discomfort. Had she of known that her wording about being in shock went over his head she would have explained more thoroughly.
If she didn’t know better from her own two eyes, she would have thought Dafydd’s tongue to be coated in silver. The Prince of Patience had a knack for saying exactly what a woman wanted to hear…Exactly when she wanted to hear it. Though Naedira was not just any woman. His words were perfect, until he mentioned the loss of Dorian and Lucien. “Your condolences are most welcome, Prince Dafydd.”
Her expression seemed to harden as he unintentionally stuck a very raw nerve. For a very brief moment, the pious Shield Maiden of Humility seemed…Furious. Just as quickly as the emotion came, it fell away from her like the tide. He hoped that they would find peace with the new rule and her gaze fell to the floor. “For the sake of my people…I hope that we find it as well.”
She would have considered peace the most obvious option if she knew the truth about her precious Dorian—About Lucien. Naedira had no knowledge of the true reason for their extended friendship…The real reasons why the succubus royal had befriended her and her brother. Had she of realized that it was a front to abduct Humilitian’s as breeding vessels… That friendship would have ended long ago.
One day the truth would come to light…
But as it stood—In her opinion…Dominique d’Aquitaine was a murderer. And no better than the assassins that threatened them.
She nodded her head as the Prince of Patience spoke, woefully recognizing that he was correct…More would die before this ordeal was through. She wished that he were wrong…But that would just be unintelligent and illogical on her part. The Kingdoms were in chaos…It was all just one, massive, bloody war.
And war was about death. Senseless, needless, painful death.
A humbled expression filled her countenance when the Arch Duchess corrected her claim of being a burden. The pledge of her blades was comforting, and not an offer she could turn down without seeming ungrateful. The princess hated being helpless… It was in her nature to protect her family, and her people. Not being able to do so left her feeling like a leaf drifting aimlessly in a lake… “I meant no offense, Lady Masterson.”
“I thank both for your willingness to take up arms on my behalf.”, she reiterated, smiling tiredly at both Corrine and Dafydd, just in case her gratitude wasn’t clear. Corrine…Seemed too familiar. She felt as if she could trust her…As if the Arch Duchess could hold all of her secrets, and never burst.
She caught sight of Altonair agreeing with Corrine’s sentiment, and she placed a gentle hand on her betrothed’s arm—Thanking him wordlessly. She was once again reminded that ruler of this realm couldn’t be as heartless as she perceived. He had gifted her with an honorable, intelligent, and kind Envian Prince. She’d never expected to get along with her intended match…Let alone actually find redeeming qualities in them.
It was one of the few…Good, or tolerable things that had happened since arriving in this realm. She still didn’t relish the thought of leaving her home…Of being separated from her family—From her beloved brother and sister…
But if she had to leave to become the shield for another Kingdom…She was glad that it would be Altonair at her side…Not some monster that she couldn’t stand the sight of.
Naedira remained silent while the battle savvy discussed what course of action they should take. One hand rest in the crook of her betrothed’s arm, the other curled protectively about her sisters. She drew silent strength from their proximity, taking even breaths while she willed her pulse to calm. Her position on their location wouldn’t change while they debated… Her Kingdom’s loyalties to Patience and her promised hand to Altonair would keep her from openly choosing a side.
She was surprised to hear Prince Stefan interject, and pledge his services to Madelyne. Her eyes fell to her sister, watching fondly as the girl grew flustered at the announcement. Ever the one to remember protocol and edict she smiled sweetly at Prince Stefan, doing to her best to dash the sadness that lingered at the edges of her eyes. Her head inclined slightly, respectfully. Words did not need spoken… Such claims were a comfort, something they were lucky to have.
As the alert came about the magical fire she grew tense, wishing for the hundredth time that she hadn’t exhausted her reserves. She still felt too weak…The thought of casting made her dizzy, and a little nauseated. Her eyes flickered to all in the room…Pretending, for her own sake, that she didn’t see the smoke licking under the doors. “It seems that the decision has been made for us.”
There were a few doors to the Gallery…Naedira thought something that lead outside and towards higher ground would be most appropriate…But she wasn’t positive. The others in the room were far more familiar with battle strategies and escape than she was.
“There are several other entrances and exits. We could take one that leads outdoors…To higher ground. Perhaps the woodland would shield us from the coming flames.”
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