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 Posted: Wed Mar 30, 2011 9:34 pm
 Corrine Brooke Masterson Kingdom: Wrath ✩ Rank: Arch Duchess ✩ Location: Veritas' Castle ✩ Walking the Hallways // Grounds  Corrine's eyebrow perked at the notion that Veritas could be nice to anyone, though it would make a little more sense that he should be kinder to his own servants. After all, he had more of a personal incentive to keep them happy and willing to do his bidding. At the very least, she felt like she could rely on him to take care of his own self interest. That was a semi-comforting notion. Turning her attention back to the situation at hand, she was glad to see that Lorelei was acting in accordance with Corrine's request that they get the naked Sokar indoors as discretely as possible. The siren's words, heavy with hidden meaning, caused the Arch Duchess to blush slightly for reasons she couldn't even put into words. She was already scantily dressed - voicing those thoughts would bring her family real shame…something to think about.
"Privacy…" she repeated under hushed breath, her mind searching through the few parts of the castle she had been able to see in her short time here. To be honest, nowhere came to mind at the very beginning, but then again, it had just been a few hours since her room was switched. What were the odds that they would have to fill her old one immediately in a castle this size?
"I think I know of a place," Corrine spoke as the Siren of Lust worked on covering up the man that the castle gardener had become. It would be…rude for Corrine's eyes to linger on them any longer than they already had, the Arch Duchess clearing her throat as the siren handed him the shawl from her body and tied it around him. At least that would be enough to get him into the building, Corrine glancing around as the siren moved to Evony. Corrine would be lying if she said that the girl didn't have a way with kids, the wrathian glad to have someone here that could help her manage the situation at hand. It was…delicate, to say the least. The last thing she really wanted to do was answer questions - especially when there was a naked man, a young girl, a princess and a betrothed woman leading a naked man into the castle.
Turning to the group of girls, her green eyes were satisfied that they had a few moments to get to the castle without encountering anyone - now was the time to move.
"Ladies, not to rush anything, but we should take him to my old room in the castle - now. I doubt the servants have had time to move anyone else is, so it should be deserted. At least we can keep him there until we can get him some clothes." The brunette motioned that she would lead the way, leaving the two people he was more comfortable with to coax him along and make sure that he remained as inconspicuous as possible. While they were looking for clothes for the gardener, she would have to cover up as well…one problem at a time. ((Oodles Of Carrots: So sorry for the wait!)
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Posted: Wed Mar 30, 2011 10:12 pm
  Necromancer of JusticeLocation: Veritas' Castle - Roaming the Grounds Livia thought that her powers might be affected by entering Veritas' realm. Thankfully, she still felt the connection between the world of the living and the realm of the dead, bare feet carrying her at a steady pace towards the castle. Those that saw her would think it amazing that a blind woman would be able to so easily traverse the perils of the surrounding terrain to make her way to the castle door. In reality, Livia just felt closer to the feelings of the plane around her when she could focus on the feelings of life and death, flowing around her. Her staff slung by a thin leather cord across her back, she seemed to be moving with a purpose, her head tilting to the side slightly as she felt the small tug of a rabbit, moving from the living to the dead. Something had called her there - a force that she could not explain. Livia was used to feeling the constant tug of both life and death - used to balancing the forces through her physical body. But, this was something different. A need that she could not place. Knowing that the heir of Justice, Valas, had been moved to this realm to protect him from the growing threat amongst the kingdoms only solidified her need to travel to Veritas' castle. It was her obligation to protect the heir of Justice and the other royals of this world. Without them, the balance of life and death would be thrown off it's delicate scale, and she would have too much work to do. This was more efficient. Her hand reached out to the large wooden door, palm flattened against it as she heard the sounds of movement from behind it. " Who goes there?" " Livia, of Justice. I've traveled to this realm to serve my sovereign, Heir Valas," she spoke sternly, her ear turning towards the door as she heard whispering before the door opened to allow her access to the castle. That was easy enough - now she just had to ascertain how bad things were in this realm as compared to the whispers of danger lurking around every corner in the other kingdoms. She felt the various life forms moving about the grounds, the necromancer perking up slightly at the feeling of so many strong life forces gathered in one place. From this view, she could understand why dark forces would want to take these lives - they were near overpowering when taken in the aggregate. Her bare feel shuffled through the grass as the woman made her way through the grounds, going nowhere in particular. She seemed to be slowly moving towards where more people were gathered, the feeling of the life force so vibrant compared to her grasp on death naturally attracting her subconscious attentions. " I wonder what our host is is up to at this moment?," the woman mused, a soft smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked. She may not have met the God in person, but she had heard many stories and legends - it was going to be interesting to say the very least. 
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Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 5:13 pm
 Alice Bunny Balogh
Kingdom: Avarice
Class: Merchant
Location: Before my enemy
Mood: Hostile VS. Jack Rohaun
Kingdom of Interest: Avarice
Occupation: Mercenary/Daemon Hunter
Location: Solarium/Gardens
Mood: Kill her!When it comes to mortal combat, it is very important to finish your opponent off as swiftly as possible. It is very foolish to drag on a battle needlessly long. The victor will end up physically exhausted, which could prove fatal should another combatant challenge the victor. Another important aspect of combat is resisting the temptation to gloat before your foe. This can leave you open for an attack, or give your opponent time to recuperate from the battle. Every second counts; however, it can be used tactfully by getting beneath the enemy's skin and causing him or her to act rashly instead of keeping focused. It is a double edged sword. Jack was about to re-learn this lesson. Impatient with the half-demon, Alice, Jack approached the fallen body of his prey. He was ready for any attack that she would throw at him should she be playing the "Injured card". His sword, Harbinger, was waiting to slice through projectiles or limbs the nano second any of which moved. What Jack saw instead, once he was over her body, was that the half-ice demon was her body completely encased in ice. The form was hard to distinguish. He peered down closer to the body, but something caught his attention in the corner of his eye; he leaped backwards and swung his sword before him with a fast arc that cut short the talons of a horrendous looking ice monster. The monster roared loudly as she got to her feet, the likes of which sounded like a broken whistle: high pitched and rough. Her blue eyes were trained on Jack, and Jack did not like that at all. "s**t!" he spat then turned to run, sheathing his sword in the process. Staying in the solarium with all its damaged furniture was not wise especially since the room was not very wide in circumference. He had to move and fast, which is what he did as the creature leaped at him with arms out and ready for a bear hug. The ice monster slid into some debris, as Jack booked it for a window. A high up window that was occupied by someone that he had only seen briefly once. Jack jumped very high and landed on the narrow ledge. "BRACE YOURSELF!" he yelled at Thantos through the window before he pushed through the glass and ejected them both outward by about twenty feet; glass shards spread around them and twinkled in the abundant sunlight of the open world. There was a nice breeze at first, and then the velocity picked up once they two began falling. Still in the game, Jack looked down to see how high up they were. He guessed it was two and a half stories plus. The time it would take to hit the ground would be short, but it was still enough time for Jack to react. He just hoped Sokar would not hold anything against him for landing in his flowers for the second time today; his chances for forgiveness were slim, he bet. Seconds before impacting the earth, the demon hunter, "R", as he was known by the few that knew of him except for his partners in the catacombs, teleported to a point below Thantos in order to catch him. His heels dug into some daisies once the free falling load dropped into both of his arms. Jack dropped the prince the next instance. "Wrong place at the wrong time, you were," said the demon hunter. The screech of the ice monster then rang out in the open. Jack peered up at the window that was being made into a larger hole by the beast that was struggling to get through. "And still are. We need to run," uttered Jack to the prince before him.
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Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 5:50 pm
 XARD THE DAEMONIC SORCERORLocation: Dungeon/First Floor/Hallway
Kingdom: Veritas, such a good friend, he is.
Rank: Deceiver
Wearing This: Black Knight"He's holding himself well," commented Xard internally as he glared down at Lincoln's shaking body, "but he does not seem to be fighting at full capacity. Oh right, he was training down below. I remember seeing that while flipping passed the Dr. Phil Show. He's so boring." He planned to use Lincoln's injury against the prince more once he got a good hold on him. He figured he could get a nice amount of blood from that wound.
The Black Knight's sword was pushed back an inch, which was enough for the heir of Wrath to make his hasty retreat, too hasty. Seeing an opportunity to get an attack at the blond's back, Xard took a hefty step forward and slashed at his patsy. The magical sword could cut through normal armor, but enchanted armor would repel it a little more since magic binds such pieces of work together.
Straightening himself out, the Black Knight placed himself in a ready position again as Lincoln himself prepared for another attack from the knight. Xard noticed that something caught the prince's attention briefly, and he was going to exploit this distraction with a charging single spin attack that was aimed at the prince's armored chest.
At the half way mark of the full circle, the Xard would release one hand from the hilt of the full blade; the knight's metal boots making sparks fly out from beneath them as they ground against the now bare stone floor thanks to the fire that burned away the carpet there. He would stop his spin three quarters of the way through to ram his shoulder and arm at Prince Lincoln like one would if they had a shield on their arm. The hand still on the sword would come from behind and forcefully thrust at the heir's abdomen; the knight would return to a defensive position the moment his attacks were finish to prepare himself any counterattacks.
"He really seems to be enjoying himself. I am so happy to see that. It is my duty, after all, to bring excitement to the mundane lives of every world's people regardless of the stature.
"And while I'm having fun with this twerp, Jack has finally found a ripe soul to take that he actually wants to. I hope the girl is rotten to the core, but power is power regardless of how much it is. Maybe it will satisfy us both for awhile. Meh, never. Ha ha ha ha ha!" cackled Xard mentally.[Oodles Of Cholesterol: Not a problem, Cideon. We all have lives outside this make believe. I'm going to assume that Sasha is behind Xard, so he cannot see him unless he turns around]
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Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 5:56 pm
Amarenth Soren "Sora" Hyuga Kingdom: Envy
Rank: Knight
Location: Hallway, Humilty?...Ironic...
Cross through the night
I looked down and lost my way
my light
(()) Soren followed quitely behind both princes, Mary following quietly behind her. Nether had any words to say. Even if they did, Soren wasn't sure either would utter them. The silence seemed omnious in its presence. Normally, the knight preferred it over dealing with royals and other stupid people. But for some reason, her mind wished that someone would break it. I do not understand why this lack of sound feels so unwelcoming. Maybe it is all in my head? The woman would not be surprised if it was only her imagination. However, Soren wished that it wouldn't be active right now if that was the case.
Eventually, the group made it to Rosalie's room. The knight had taken note of how close the room had been to Altonair's. Not surpising, since if I do remember correctly, they have stuck the royal families close together. She had yet to know much about whether these arrainged marriges, that she had heard about earlier, had any effect on this rule.
Her eyes cast a quick glance at Liam and nodded to him respectifuly. So, this is why I had not seen him today. Poor Liam. Knowing his stuck up attitude, this job would be worse than death. For her own sake, Soren made no open remark on her thoughts.
She felt a slight tugging on her sleeve. Her head turned to see that it was Mary. Soren turned herself to face her and tilted her head. "What is wrong, my dear friend? You seem...troubled." The knight's voice stayed calm and soft, making sure to only be heard by Mary.
"You know, how you told me once...about those feelings people get when they believe something bad is about to happen?" Soren nodded, feeling a bit of confusion and question going through her mind. "I have that feeling right now, my sister. I don't know why but...maybe it is not best to show Rosalie...her brother." Admittedly, Soren did wonder why showing Maxwell to Rosalie would be a good idea. If the reaction would be anything like Evony's, things will get bad quickly. "I do admit. I do not understand the princes's intent in doing this...." Her eyes casted a quick glance over her shoulder to the princes before looking back at Mary. "However, they know their sister better than we do. Maybe a shock of this sorts will get her to come out of her room?" She had learned of Rosalie's refusal to leave two days prior.
When Soren had tried to see why the princess had yet to leave, she was yelled at to not enter and to not bother her anymore. I hope our reception shall be a bit more welcomed than mine had been.
She turned herself around and noticed no one had opened the door, or made any moves. A slight puzzlement went through her at the sight. "Are we waiting for her to open the door, or are we post to do it?" Soren asked polietely, not wanting to deal with angry royals. Instead of waiting for an answer, she decided to take action and walked over to the door. Her eyes casted a quick glance at Mary before slowly opening the door.
The reception was the same she had gotten two days ago. However, the rest of what Rosalie said confused the knight. Huh? I made no such promise. Her head turned towards the two princes behind her. Did one of them make such a promise? She knew Liam couldn't have made it. He didn't seem like the type to care about whether a royal ate or not.
With this, a small sigh escaped her lips as her eyes tried to find the princess in the darkness. "I do not know which promise you are referring to, your grace. I have made many promises in my day, but not such one to you that my memory can recall." She stepped into the room and away from the doorway, allowing Mary to slip in. "Though, I am sorry to disturb you once more. But your brothers...have something to show you." Her body turned to face Mary, both waiting for what Altonair and Nathenial would do next. Brought to my knees
Though the darkness surrounds
it pull me down,
I do sink beneath
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Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 9:15 pm
• Ӎ ɐ э ʆ ɸ ȵ ɐ • ʗ э ɾ ΐ ϛ э • Ѧ ϛ ȶ ɐ ʆ ʆ ɸ • Ｔｈｅ ａｄｏｐｔｅｄ Ｐｒｉｎｃｅｓｓ, ｈａｉｌｉｎｇ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｋｉｎｇｄｏｍ ｏｆ ＰａｔｉｅｎｃｅLocation: Gardens once again. No, this young man cannot be right... Currently Wearing: This Dress •xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•   Not quite? Maelona thought as Kahler spoke again. So Apollo wasn't angry or upset with her? That was a good thing. She sighed with relief, though it was short lived as the confusion kicked in once more. What was this young man driving at? Hopefully he would just get straight to the point this time, a point that she couldn't misinterpret. Though the point was still a bit a ways off. She listened politely as the young man scrambled for the right words. She watched as he shifted. Perhaps this was an uncomfortable topic for him to talk about? Or perhaps he was just nervous. She couldn't tell.
Maelona felt herself nodding as the young man went on, searching his words for their meaning and their relation to her and Apollo's relationship. It must have been an important point for the young man to make, Maelona decided as he searched for the right things to say. Apollo was bad at expressing himself? He did not seem that way to her. Yes there was an awkward air about him sometimes, but nothing that was terrible. "Okay." Maelona said as he finally began to get to the actual point, though the point had not been something the princess was expecting.
Maelona watched as he searched around the corner, causing her brows to come together in a v shape, showing her confusion. Though as he spoke again, her head tilted to the side. Interested in me? She thought. At first it did not make any sense to her, though as she allowed the phrase to sink in, along with the other things the young man spoke about, it had finally hit her. Maelona's mouth popped open slightly as she began to shake her head. If this was the think he had asked her to promise him, she could not do that. She took a step forward, her mouth open to explain the situation to him. The fact that she could not promise him what he asked because she was betrothed. Though before any words could come, Apollo had come back.
Maelona turned to him as she felt a blush rise to her face. She snapped her mouth closed as she brought up her hands in an attempt to hide the redness by rubbing her cheeks, though of course it wouldn't be of any use. She took a deep breath before lowering her hands once again. It had taken her a moment to realize he asked her a question. Should she stay? Probably no, but of course she did not want to be rude, especially after he had gone out of his way to bring out another glass for her. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Perhaps one glass. I don't want to keep the two of you from catching up." She gave a nod as the blushing subsided slightly. "And no, he was a perfect gentleman." She added in reference to Kahler.
Maelona looked back to Kahler once more. Could this young man have been right? She searched her mind for any signs, and yet she could not find any. Apollo had never shown her anything that would lead one to think he was interested. Could the man have been off about what he had suspected? It was possible to the princess, after all she did not know him. He could have been taking a shot in the dark about what Apollo had been feeling for her. That had to be it. He had to be wrong, not that it would have been his fault after all. Though if he wasn't, that could complicate things. •xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx• Louder than sirens
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxLouder than bells
Sweeter than heavenxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hotter than hell
""
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)(Over.Dose.On.Cyanide)( Crew
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Posted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 12:23 am
╔════════════════╗
Ƞaedira Ȉllesande
╚════════════════╝ Kingdom: Humility
Rank: 1st Princess
Location: Three Little Indians - With King Riley   Naedira held to her younger sister, as if she were likely to disappear at any moment…Her heart could scarcely fathom it. For years… She’d never even let herself imagine, that she might be able to have part of her family back. She’d thought that there would always be an empty…Ragged hole in her heart, where Madelyne should have belonged. She murmured…Soft words to her sister, quiet apologies as they embraced…But there were still so many things she wished to say, so many things she needed to tell her—So many festivals she’d missed, so many celebrations… She wanted to explain, how very sad the halls of their House was without her.
But for the tired sorceress… It had come to a time where words failed her. Utterly, and completely. They simply weren’t good enough. Not enough to even begin to express the myriad of emotions that ran through her like a wild wind, churning and stirring with abandon…
Madelyn returned her words to her, apologizing for that which she couldn’t have known… And for the time being, the Lady Naedira allowed her this. She was too exhausted to fight over where to place blame. Her hazel orbs were still blown wide, pupil nearly filling all of the color…Making her beautiful eyes seem sightless, otherworldly. They sparkled with a darker intent that the first princess of Humility did not truly know… The result of using such black, blasphemous magic.
But as the King had ordered it done, and mistress of her art…There truly was no one to scold her. No one above her, she was her own peer… It was only the stain on her soul, and the concern of her brother that she would have to live with.
She would be spending quite some time in prayer after this venture.
Watching Madelyne and her father interact was something that made it worth…Any repercussion from the dark arts. He’d closed down, and hadn’t taken on another Lady-Queen since they’d walked through Madelyne’s funeral procession… Even to see him angry—Though affection lay behind the more violent one, was a gift. “Father…”, Naedira called, chastising the King without really saying. The King of Humility seemed to come from his own darker cloud at the words of his daughters…Daughters, plural. More than one. He looked to Madelyne, his expression softening as he reached to take her seemingly delicate hand. It was not an embrace, like the one Naedira had bestowed upon her…But it was something, a token of affection. Affection, from a King of Kings... “Our House has gone through many…Cold, lonely winters. And despite that we are at War with Avarice…It seems that we’ve been blessed. Spring Solstice has come early, and with it—The Goddess has returned that which mortal men took. And it prompts me to celebrate. Word of your living will spread, and it will enthrall our people. Your death had always remained a black omen to our senate…A warning, of my reign…But with your return… You will bring them hope.”
“It brings an old man strength, where he’d thought he’d run out…”, King Riley went on, glancing down at his seated son—And Naedira standing not far away. They were stronger they he’d ever given them credit for…He’d sheltered Naedira for years from the fighting, from the cruelty of society… Afraid that the same fate that Madelyne had suffered would befall her… He’d kept Ryan in the dark unintentionally on several political moves… Kept both of his children from knowledge of the War they were in…To keep them safe.
But they’d grown…Into fine men and women before his eyes. Somewhere along the line, he’d missed when Ryan had stopped using a wooden sword… Or when Naedira stopped carrying about a little glass doll. And Madelyne… By God and Kingdom how she’d grown…
He sighed then, patting Madelyne’s hand once, before releasing it…Gaze turning towards the roaring fire place. “I would like to learn to know you again, Madelyne…Before my days are spent. But there is a War front waiting on me. I will not be able to stay in this land for long—When our own so desperately needs me. I’ll not neglect our people.”
He looked towards Ryan, and then his two daughters—Giving them a quiet nod… Decisions already being made in his head. “Someday, I’ll bring the three of you home to a peaceful land… But for the time being…Your place is here. Perhaps while among the other Kingdom’s, your youth might persevere where their previous Kings and Queen’s have failed. We must attain peace….”Naedira sighed softly, knowing what her Father spoke of… The marriages…Her betrothal would secure the hand of Envy… Ryan’s, the hand of Hubris. Two fairly powerful Kingdom’s in their own right. Perhaps, powerful enough to stop the massacres from the Avarician armies… Not to mention, their friendship with Dorian of Avarice… That was not to be discounted. “We will do what we can Father… We won’t disappoint.”
It was all she promise him then…Feeling the world tilt and sway, she gave an apologetic smile to her Father, newly found sister, and Ryan… “If you would…Excuse me. I would stay…But I must rest.” The King nodded almost immediately… “By all means. We are to supp with your betrothed, are we not?”Naedira froze… In all this mess, she would have hoped he would have forgotten. “Yes. If he can…Make it. Yes, we are.”
“Ryan, Madelyne…”, she breathed their names, a small smile touching her lips to call for her sister. She would be...Honored, to present her sister at the dinner table. “I hope that you both might find time to attend…”
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Posted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 4:11 am
 Ӄῐηɠɖѻɱ: Avarice
Ƚѻҫӓʈΐѻη: La Terre De Veritas
Ɍӓηҟ: Heir - High Princesse (Grande Duchesse) 
She felt a pang of discontentment, and dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks as she scowled.
“You cad. Zut…I can’t believe you… You let me think you were dead all this time! And Father….”, she trailed off, her shocked voice growing progressively louder. Her face stilled after a moment, her anger cooling in seconds… Her countenance suddenly akin to a piece of freshly blown glass. Perfect, without flaw. “But I’m assuming there is some…Marvelous story to explain it. And I’m also assuming that Father knew where you were the entire time.”
So there must have been a reason he’d been hidden from her. Why? Time would only tell…But she couldn’t pretend to be angry, when all she could feel was a steady bout of contentment…Of happiness, that she finally had her dearest friend back. It had been hard to trust, hard to relate to others when she’d remained for so long a Princess in hiding…
She had held had so much pent up hatred and distaste for the Cambion rulers that had turned the perfect streets of Cupidité into a mottled trash heap. She knew from her mothers memories, and thought long lost oil paintings that it had once been a city of gold…Of irreplaceable beauty and culture. Something she had yet to see… When she’d been sent away to the castle, her family had only just begun its restoration.
Father promised, by the time she returned home… The capital city would be returned to its former glory.
Her expression became gentler when this, assassin, with Fandral’s eyes and face brought his hand to cover her own. To be fair, she’d touched him first… Her palm slipping to press delicately against his cheek... As if to measure the weight of his truths. His inappropriate gesture was matched with her own. Yet as heiress, she had no equal…The only man she answered to, was the rightful King of Avarice. And even then, it was often the other way around. “Are you as I see you?”
It was a double ended question… She suspected…But she needed to know the answer. The truth…For once, in her life. Was he just there to protect her, as a favor to her blood line? Or was he there for her. To become, hers. To be her formal line of protection was to be at her side…Until sweet death claimed him. If it was true…He would be her Conduit, that which kept her grounded as she aged…Her Long Arm of the Law.
He would be one of the most feared men in her Kingdom…The One who protected the Queen... And for her, aside from whatever consort she may or may not ever require—One of the most important individuals to her survival. She wasn’t sure if he would be…Ready, willing to give up parts of his clearly cultivated life when the time came…“Or are you as my Father see’s you?”
She’d caught the emotion that had passed through him at the mention of his name… Though was it simply that she’d remembered him? Or that his name had come from her lips? Domini couldn’t have been sure… Not yet, but the filed the reaction away to analyze on a rainy day. She found his behavior unusual…But not at all unfamiliar.
And not at all, unwelcome.
She’d remained in the middle of the room, her eyes having returned to their natural hue of aquamarine…Lips the color of fresh roses, just barely touching. He moved with ease and silence… Pulling a sack onto the bed, that made her curious, though she remained silent… Cautious eyes taking him in. Assessing him, as she’d always been taught. Until she could… Fully trust him… She still needed to be on her guard.
“A fish?”, she responded, something akin to a laugh on her lips as her eyes swayed…Suddenly more unsure, if he knew what he was getting himself into. Becoming a Vice-Marshal was not a choice in…Careers. It was a life choice. “My father would not simply assign any…Fish to me. Not even to catch another ‘fish’.”
Dominique was taken aback when Fandral approached her again, her feet taking her several steps backwards…Thunder rumbling somewhere unseen. It was merely a reflex to being approached… She’d been taught for years now, to be careful.
Even in the presence of a friend.
She smirked slowly, a challenge crossing her porcelain features... "I enjoy the thunder... The storms. Don't you, my Lord?"
Vice-Marshal or not…He had yet to formally swear any kind of allegiance to her crown. At least, not in her presence. She would only be able to fully trust in him once he’d taken his vows. His touch to her face, eyes drowning in her own forced her to forget to breathe. No one had ever been this informal with her, not in years-- It was strange… So strange that her body stiffened, braced for an attack. Yet he was correct… It didn’t offend her… She was simply unprepared for his presence, especially after all that had transpired.
“Be careful of that which you swear…Some words are more binding than others.”, she reprimanded gently, her voice holding all the allure and appeal of a princess in power…She did not back down, and stood her ground…Again, as so many things in this conversation had become…What she said, wasn’t entirely what she meant… Would he be swearing himself to her? It was usually assumed…Her father told her that he’d had his first Vice-Marshall (Who had sadly passed on in the Black Blood battle when the Cambion took over…) at the tender age of fifteen. Usually the royal chose…And the subordinate accepted... As was the way of it.
But Dominique was years late for this… And she didn’t want to lose her independence to just anyone.
She raised her hand and removed his… Though she didn’t release him, holding it just to the side so she could speak, and have his full attention.
“Tell me... Sir Fandral Wolfram… Whom do you answer to? To King D'Artagnan of Avarice? Or do you answer to me?”
There wouldn’t be time to have her questioned however, because there was suddenly a knock at the door.
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Posted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 4:40 pm
 Pic by vishstudio; click for larger shot
Location/Situation and Form: from gardens to castle; a semi-naked humanMan is the cruelest animal.
~Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900)
Sokar was unsure why he had made Lorelei blush so much, but was assured it had to be him that caused it. Corrine had not blushed as much, but the tint on her face made it obvious she too was reacting to something. He wondered if he had done something wrong? Though he was still very severely concerned with what was happening with him, he felt ill at ease that he had bothered the two women. After all, he considered himself lower in rank to them both (a little bit to Evony, but she was still a pup, so he was confident of some authority when it came to her), and it was the old wolf instinct to not upset your betters.
The princess of Lust approached him almost warily, and he made sure to duck his head slightly. Did she think he might snap at her for nearing him? No, she didn’t look afraid really, just rather uncomfortable as she explained the reasoning for putting her shawl on him. That made some sense, he was used to humans being ridiculous about body parts they all well knew about. But if it soothed the females around him, he would acquiesce to their wishes. The light material hugged low on his hips, giving a much more enticing appearance than sheer nudity, had either of the women thought of him that way. His new-found human masculinity seemed also to be charged up by the delicate feminine fabric, and his somewhat still confused expression merely added to the effect.
As Lorelei spoke to Evony, the gardener shivered at her tone. It was there, he deduced, that odd something he could never quite hear, and it gave him ideas that were strange to him. Making the connection, he tried to lok down at the ground, and not focus on the siren. Again, the reaction came from wolf-instinct, for one never tried to mate with a higher ranked wolf unless the invitation was there. This was more of a tease, and Sokar assumed it was his own fault for reacting this way. After all, he had seen her with some other men here and there, such as Evony’s brother, the just mentioned Nathaniel (whom he had now grown to not be wary of, assuming his initial reaction was mistaken; after all he’d never seen or heard the heir of Envy do something unkind to anyone). And none of those ever tried to mate with the princess, in his mind. That of course being the assumption from wolf memories; he was not at all aware how many heads she’d turned.
Sokar barely glanced up at Corrine’s words. He had just been covered up on those parts human’s didn’t like to show, what else did he need? Still, he trusted Lorelei and Evony to know what they were doing, and they seemed on good terms with the one like a lady-wolf, Corrine. He did not know she was a duchess of Lust, and so he was more willing to share trust to her as well. Now she would be safe as not only did he start to calm down, but also as he was not as nervous around her.
These gentle women and young girl easily herded the beast of a man, who stood high above them, and probably outweighed them all together. Physically, he could hurt any of them (though of course Corrine alone could hurt him back just as easily with her skills), but he instead followed them like a timid lamb, his hands beginning to fidget on the knot Lorelei had made on his covering. Any more surprises though, particularly of a male type (for almost any male creature would mistrust another when it came to females in his care), and they would see the wolf was still inside him.
To conclude, all other living creatures live orderly and well, after their own kind:
we see them flock and gather together, and ready to make head and stand against all others of a contrary kind:
the lions as fell and savage as they be, fight not with one another: serpents sting not serpents, nor bite one another with their venomous teeth:
nay the very monsters and huge fishes of the sea, war not amongst themselves in their own kind:
but believe me, man at man's hand receiveth most harm and mischief.
~Pliny The Elder (23 AD - 79 AD)
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Posted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 11:18 pm
 Outside Dominique's DoorThe knock on the door was certainly unexpected, he knew that. But he also knew, that it was his only chance before Dorian found out that he was here, expecting no doubt... for him to bring her good news. News that wouldn't come this day. Or likely any other day in the foreseeable future. The Cambian royals... The man closed his eyes, expelling a sigh large enough that it was audible. The past days had been a few of the worst in his existence. Trying, to say the least.
And he couldn't face the former heiress now. He couldn't be the one to tell her that she was the equivalent of a peasant, holding onto a status that wouldn't ever be hers if the d'Aquitaine's had their way.
She'd likely not even heard of the fall of her family. Her mother and father... cast from the graces of society, spat upon as though they were something now to be stepped in.
The people had turned on her. On them.
And the fact he stood outside the door... that belonged to the Cambian's enemy, meant that he had as well. Letting a silent prayer pass just before the door opened, Pieterre kept his head down, blue eyes scanning the tiled floor. “Your grace...Highness.” Already he was on his knees, bowing without knowing who had opened the portal to see him.
It didn't matter at that point. What mattered, was the motions of respect that was required when speaking with a superior. He was but a page, abandoning his place in the court. “I'm sorry to come in unexpected, especially because I know you likely have no reason to even know I exist.” Just a page. Merely a serf. She wouldn't likely be one who wasted her time knowing who all was in Dorian's expansive court, let alone know who each page boy served.
“But I come from the fallen Cambian court, and I've information, that would prove most lucrative to report to you, as you'll one day be the rightful queen of Avarice.” The people longed for it so, and as he slowly made his way up with his stare, that hope was apparent in his eyes. “My placement in this world has been somewhat undesirable. To be a page in any court, when I was born with a father lacking in a title, or even lands to call his own... was the most I could ever hope to achieve.” To start on his pleas for amnesty already? Probably poor taste.
But, if she had the wits that whispers spoke of... he needed to do so fast, else he'd find his head severed from his body. “Please forgive me, for serving a family that disregarded your claim to the throne.” For, like most in the kingdom, he couldn't help his circumstance. “And allow me, to share with you what I can.”
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Posted: Sun Apr 03, 2011 1:10 am
 Ӻӓήȡɍᾀʆ ψѲȴϝɍąɱ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☠ Ӄingdom: Avarice
Ɍank: Vice Marshal
Ƚocation: Dominique’s room
Ⱦhoughts: Please, let me kill him… ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☠ Had she truly thought him dead all this time? It was an amusing thought. Admittedly, he probably could have contacted her in his time away from her. While he’d never forgotten her, he never really thought to write her. Before he became what he was now he’d thought himself unworthy of speaking to her. He was weak at the time, he could never protect her or the rest of the family he’d loved and come to think of as his own in those days. Even now, despite his bravado, he questioned whether or not he was worthy of her company.
He flashed her a warm smile, perhaps the most emotion he’d shown in years that was not falsified for the stage or one of his many disguises and alter egos. ”It is a complicated tale, I assure you. I’ve gone by many names throughout the years, never my own.” He glanced away from her for a moment. ”You see, people in my line of work take a certain level of comfort in anonymity.” He looked back into his eyes, a suggestion of apology in his eyes. ”Sometimes that means losing touch of our identities, and the connections we’ve made to them.” He chuckled lightly at the suggestion that her father had known all about him. ”It was purely by chance, I’m told, that he found me. Months ago it appears one of his spies found me, and he’s been watching me at a distance ever since, waiting for the right time to approach me.”
He nodded with purpose as she shot back his statement in the form of a question. He knew her intent before her lips even stopped moving. It was a question he knew the answer to instinctively, he did not even have to think about it. Yes, he owed the royal family his life, but that was not his purpose here; that was not his raison d'être. He was here out of complete devotion to the princess, a devotion that would continue even beyond his mortal life. He was here for her. ”I am your sword, my lady, if you will be my sheathe,” he told her with a bow of his head. He hoped it was a satisfactory answer.
He remained quiet as the woman questioned his metaphor. He’d allow her to come to her own conclusions on the matter, for it was not something he really knew any answer to.
Her reaction to his touch was not entirely unexpected. He nodded with a smile as she asked him of the thunder. She scolded him with a gentle authority that could only come from a princess so beautiful. He would not take back his words. He would protect her with his last dying breath if need be. Her life was in his hands, and in many ways his life was in hers. And should he fail, and should she die in his care, there would be a self-inflicted blade to his throat to pay for his crime and clear all accounts… but not until after he sent the perpetrator to whatever afterlife they believed in, so he could join them there and torment them for all eternity.
But things would never come to that, hopefully.
He stared into her eyes, drowning in the aquamarine of her irises, as she asked him of his loyalties. He was about to open his mouth to speak when there was a knock at the door. Without hesitation he freed himself from her grasp and pressed his finger to his lips in a hushing manner. He walked to the doorknob and drew one of his daggers. He looked over at the woman and offered her a nod, then pulled open the door. He allowed whoever was there to enter, hiding behind the door. Should he have been hostile, Fandral was prepared to throw the blade into the man’s back.
But that was not the case. This man… he was begging for amnesty. Amnesty for a fool who blindly chose to serve the disgusting creatures that polluted his once beautiful kingdom? Not likely. Were it up to him, Fandral would have snapped his neck without so much as a second thought; such a disgrace of a person was not worth the rust on his blade. But it was not up to him, the man’s life was Dominique’s to do with as she wished. He slammed the door beside him shut, startling the groveler.
Fandral went behind the man and wrapped an arm around his neck, then held the blade to the man’s temple with the other arm. Any normal person would have seen at least seven different ways Fandral could kill him from such a position; Fandral was already working on number sixteen. He turned his eyes toward Dominique, his stare hopefully telling her all she needed to know. As loyal as he was to the throne of Avarice, his first loyalty was to Dominique herself. He would prove this by following whatever order she gave him next to the absolute letter.
He silently hoped she would allow him to kill this waste of space. ”What will you have me do, my lady?”━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☠ This is the hand that will blind your eyes
And split your spine...xxxxxxxxxxxxx
This is the blade that'll visit your flesh
And release the wine...xxxxxxxxxx.
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Posted: Sun Apr 03, 2011 9:55 am
Falling window
“The light of day and of night spills beauty over all who sees it should they have the eyes to perceive it,” Dorian spoke towards Martin as they casually kept to the pace of walking. “And the weather is pleasurable enough.”
Dorian’s eyes flickered back behind her when the motion of Martin’s hand caught her eye. Not for the first time since she’d met him that day he’d ran his hand through his hair. A habit he’d learned over time no doubt, meant usually to calm someone or perhaps draw attention back to the physical plane.
“Are you nervous with me?” The heiress of Avarice asked as she paused to caste him a look.
But there wasn’t much time before a sound of glass breaking filled the air. Unmistaken was the sound – something so hard to create often left a dread with the sound of it being destroyed. And they were standing close enough to the window that broke that Dorian could see the shards of glass as they glittered in the sunlight, falling straight for them. Her knees instantly buckled and she covered her head and her face with her arms, the wide fabric of the sleeves doing a great favor in covering more area than her skin ever would.
Other than that, she’d had no time to react to such an event – no time to move out of the way, no time to speak out something. Just the instant reaction to curl.
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Posted: Mon Apr 04, 2011 12:25 am
One dead brother, below the ground... slowly and softly begins to make a sound
Max nodded, his excitement so unbridled that any audience would know it wasn't a falsity on the zombie boy's part. “Rosalie... I'm sure she'll be happy to play pretty games with me again.” He mused, his voice that of a child's, not the soldier he'd been sent off to be. “Let's not keep my dear sister waiting.” Hopefully, she'd not be so green about the gills, the way Evony had been.
The walk was short, but Max kept up with Nathaniel's stride, failing to notice the changes in expression that were so subtle, that it was merely what looked to be an obvious set of twitching, evidence of muscles at work.
- - -
Liam had counted the splinters in the wall enough times over the course of the past few days that he didn't need to test where the weak spots were, to know that a good hit in a few places would cause a noticeable damage. He also didn't need to know the thread count of the tapestry hanging on the wall, or how fast he could draw his sword.
His assignment, in short... had been very, very taxing on his sanity. There were countless new strategies of how to defeat Patience now swimming in his conscience, begging to be drawn out on a bit of parchment so that he could share the tactics.
Skylar had proven scarce since the catacombs escapades, and Liam couldn't blame the woman for all that they endured. A large part of him wished to know just what she was filling her time with, but what time she had found, she'd spent chatting with him at his post. Beyond a few sarcastic conversations with the girl from Patience, Liam had seen few people to interact with. Needless to say, as soon as the steady sound of the entourage's footsteps could be heard, Liam snapped out of his thoughts, straightened in posture and waited, hoping that the group would be coming to see Rosalie.
The prince dipped his head to the knight standing outside of Rosalie's door, recognizing him as one of their generals. “Balin.” It was a one word greeting, but their differences in status would explain it as a common affair, and not that the lesser class was being slighted.
It didn't really make all that much of a difference to Liam. For once, the unsettling envy that would n** at his insides when he was forced to consort with the royal family as their hired help was gone. In no way, was Liam jealous of the sight he saw. Max, what had once been a strong, strapping boy was now a zombie. A walking corpse that smelled more rancid than he looked.
Nathaniel spoke to the soldier, void of any hint of how he felt about the boy in his current state. And Liam did well to stonewall his own features, appearing apathetic at best. Stoic even. “I had not.” Liam stated simply. His eyelids slowly fell over his honeyed irises in effort to bury the traces of his own surprise. “But leave it to our host to twist Altonair's wish.” And he'd done a number on it. That was for sure.
He kept his suspicion of the true intent of this visit well hidden within his breast, giving no leeway about his knowledge regarding Nathaniel's skewed views of entertainment. “Perhaps it will.” Liam said, eyes light with something akin to anticipation. It was probably immoral of him to want to watch Rosalie writhe with discomfort. But with how she'd behaved since they'd arrived here, Liam had had no want to do much else than wring her neck and rid himself of this particular charge.
Soren opened the door with a certain amount of caution that made Liam's eyes roll heavenward. Rose was a mess; a catastrophe, and only a hazard to herself. The hesitance made the knight appear weak, and that was not tolerated of Envy's warriors. Ever.
He followed the group in, being the tail as Rosalie went into another one of her melt downs. It was nothing new; something like this happened with her every meal... and several times they'd brought multiple dishes, expecting for her to throw the food against a wall instead of eating it. (In their defense, she'd done just that on a few occasions.)
“Leave me be! Let me alone!” The princess cried. Sad to think, that just a month ago, she'd been a prize in their kingdom. Now her visage appeared much too frail, her hair stringy, unhealthy. Once it had had a luster to it, that matched her pretty smile. Her form had had all the indications of future curves... and now her body looked as though her skin was stretched too far over her bones, like it was merely paper over glass. She shook, quivered and then started flailing on the bed, sobs ripping out of her chest like she couldn't get enough air.
“You promised.” Rosalie wept, shaking her head as she buried her face into a pillow.
Liam sighed, brows knitting with a frustration that he feared would make a permanent residence in his features. This had happened... every time someone had tried to come into the room. Insufferable little twit couldn't hold herself together.
But before anything could be said, Max pushed his way through the people, giggling as he watched his sister's temper tantrum. “You were never as good as those as I was, dear sister.” A smile tugged at the dead flesh, corners of his mouth curving upward and he clambered up to her bed, bits of him falling to the floor in his rush to see Rosalie's face.
“Altonair wished me back!” His eyes widened, the irises as black as his pupils with his death. “Didn't you miss me, Rose?” He nestled into her then, unaffected by hunger pains until his nose brushed her flesh.
“I missed you. I missed you terribly.” His voice was beginning to shake, and Rosalie's expression marked her confused. Deranged. Surely this wasn't happening; certainly this was a dream. She'd just been cooped up too long, that was all. Everyone here... were just lies. Lies, because even she couldn't tell the truth to herself any more.
“Rose....” Max's voice was barely a whisper, and Liam slid a glance in Nathaniel's direction. This wasn't a good idea.
“Rose... I need your life to sustain mine. Feed me Rosalie, so that we can be together and play.”
She didn't know what was going on, hadn't the faintest idea as to what he was talking about. “Huh?” But as his teeth dragged across her wrist and sank down with a fierce determination, the princess learned very quickly that she was in the real world, and her brother was trying to eat her.
She screamed an earsplitting wail, pulled her hand back and kicked Max square in the chest.
“But sister, don't you love me any more? Don't you want me to stay?” Gloomy eyes stared at her, confused, but the effect was ruined by a maggot wriggling about in the rotted flesh of his cheek. He leaned in closer to her, not too abashed by her kick to his sternum, and Rosalie fell into a fetal position, hugging her knees so close to her chest that she was merely a ball on the bed.
“Stay away from me!” The princess squealed, fear rippling through the air.
“I only need a little to stay, Rose. I thought you loved me.”
The maggot dropped onto her eyelid, and any chance he'd have had to convince her that he was her Max was decimated by the vermin's movement against her skin. Quickly Rosalie rolled off the bed, scrambled to her feet and started running towards the balcony.
Everything here was a lie. The pain... the fear. They were all fooling her, but she'd show them. She just needed to get away. Escape. Her teeth chattered against each other, and she prepared herself for a jump.
[ o o c: I have more written, which will be posted after a certain planned event happens with this. ]
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Posted: Mon Apr 04, 2011 11:25 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: Corrine's Old Personal Quarters "Privacy…" she repeated under hushed breath, her mind searching through the few parts of the castle she had been able to see in her short time here. To be honest, nowhere came to mind at the very beginning, but then again, it had just been a few hours since her room was switched. What were the odds that they would have to fill her old one immediately in a castle this size?
Corrine's suggestion of a place was comforting, as the only place that Lorelei could think of that they might find some privacy was the library, and the thought of that room induced a shudder. From them nearly kissing, to him nearly killing her, Lorelei was ill at ease in the older corridors of the castle. To take Sokar there would be a bad omen in her mind. “I'll follow where you lead.” Lorelei mumured quietly, attempting to keep her melodies from sounding husky, alluring.
She tended to Evony then, and Corrine bade them to make haste to her old quarters, and the princess' steps were quick to match her pace. “And inform Veritas of the shrew.” Lorelei added, not wanting Sokar to think that they'd forget any detail in his plight.
The shawl about his waist did little to hide what was going on in the nether regions, but Lorelei forced her eyes to drift upwards, and ignore just how well the material hung about his hips, dipping low enough to almost give away the secrets did lie beneath. “Don't worry, Sokar... We'll get you out of this.”
She only wished the words were more than that. More than anything, she wanted it to be a promise instead of a blind optimism.
* * *
The room was as Corrine had predicted – empty. It still had all the grand furnishings that was expected in a castle of this class, but it was vacant of personal belongings, or even a feeling that someone was staying here. Lorelei wrung her hands in and out, clutching her skirt every time her fingers curled inward. It was a nervous habit, and when she realized what she was doing, Lorelei urged her hands to remain still at her sides. She glanced about the room, keeping her eyes everywhere but on the wolf man for as long as possible.
But when her gaze took her back to the sight of the now human... she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue in an automatic response, and she swallowed everything building in her throat before she spoke. “Sokar... other than clothes, is there anything we can get you? Any sort of comfort at all?”
”Evony, darling.. can you see if you can find some brandy in one of those cabinets? Our friend could use it to soothe his nerves.” The siren turned to the duchess then, sighing as a dainty hand came to her forehead, tucking an auburn lock of hair behind her ear. “Where is the closest service staff quarters, where we might be able to pilfer some garbs for him? ”
[[Oddly Oafish Commentary:]] The siren sang so sweet and watched the sailors go down, anyone would drown
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Posted: Mon Apr 04, 2011 11:55 pm
  Envy shoots at others and wounds itself. Envy prevents joy. | Altonair Wood |
Prince of Envy  *~Location: Rosalie's Quarters – In the company of: Nathaniel, Max, Soren, Mary, Amber, Liam, Rosalie~*
Altonair felt disgusted with himself for not visiting Rosalie more often, especially sine her quarters were so close to his own. Then again, she did wish to keep to herself for some time now, for reasons that were not elaborated to him. That, and he and Rosalie had a bit of a argumentative relationship, though they never really meant anything too serious. Just Altonair worrying too much for one of his younger sisters. He shifted uncomfortably when Max waddled up to her door, oblivious as can be. May the Gods make this reunion a joyous and pain free one. he thought nervously.
Amber, on the other hand, was still waiting patiently to approach her prince and initiate a conversation. As usual, she was oblivious to much more urgent matters at hand, since they didn't concern her. Then again, now that she had become a noble, she could have at least become a bit more involved in royal talk, now that her words contained some value due to her new found status. Typical Amber.
Altonair's nervousness was noticeable as Nathaniel greeted Liam. Silence was a rare thing for Altonair to have, especially since he had not met Liam in some time. Again, it was probably his nerves going into overdrive at the situation. And when the door opened to show Rosalie, Altonair sighed to himself and walked in.
The first thing he noticed was how horrid Rosalie had become. From her pale skin to her malnourished figure, he was hard pressed to figure out which part of her was more distressing than the rest. Her mind seemed to also be on the deteriorating side, as she yelled at them about some promise (probably one Nathaniel made, as he himself made no such promise). Shaking his head, he he took a step forward.
"You're not a child anymore Rosalie, stop yelling." came his uncharacteristically emotionless drone. Maybe it was the nerves settling in, but he just didn't have the decency to show any of his usual brotherly affection until Max had been properly introduced with Rosalie. It was really eating away at his mind, all the possibilities of what can go wrong.
He cleared his throat and was about to speak, when Max shuffled past him and into Rosalie's vision. Shifting his weight uncomfortably on the spot, Altonair crossed his arms and placed a clenched fist in front of his mouth in anticipation. Too soon, too soon! Damn it Max, too bloody soon!
When Max mentioned Altonair wishing him back, the mentioned prince coughed uncomfortably, his gaze wandering about the room to avoid any eye contact.
And at this glance, it seemed to be going well. Rosalie slowed down in her mania, and seemed to take great notice of Max, who had sidled up to her now. It was all going very well so far. Then Max's teeth caught his eye.
"No."
The kick in Max's chest felt like it landed on Altonair as well, as he flinched at the sudden movement. Urgh! I just told him not too long ago to not do that!. Altonair's mental criticism towards Max was very rare, as he usually had a very high tolerance for mishaps performed by any of his siblings. Now, however, the situation was much too fragile for something like this to happen. And it grated at his emotions.
Then, Rosalie made a motion that drew Altonair out of his silent watch: she ran towards the balcony. And she put herself in a stance that did not look safe. The situation had just gone grave in a matter of seconds. And the prince could hardly contain his emotions now.
"Rosalie! Wait! Don't....just stop, wait!" he stammered out, taking a few steps forward. He didn't want to agitate her even more. "Collect your thoughts!"
In the back of the group, Amber covered her mouth and wordlessly watched the scene unfold. This was certainly not a good day to visit Altonair.
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