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 Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2011 2:02 pm
FORTITUDEXXXXXXXXXXXXXXRank: PrincessXXXXXXXXXXXXXXLocation: Tropical Garden,
Navy eyes flickered like the waves of an ocean as she watched the volcanic stranger stand with the strength and presence of a brick wall. The Princess's shoulders straightened as her posture shifted. Alex followed Stefen's movement with her eyes as he seemed to flinch for a moment from their previous collision. She expected him to at least recoil or touch the effected area, but he did nothing of the sort. The female watched as the Masterson boy seemed to bubble with anger. There was a clear change from whatever he was just feeling to a cold-hearted man who shot daggers into her soul.
“Usually I’m the first thing a person sees in a room, you must be half blind. Or drunk even. Look at you, dressed like a bawdy wench.”
Wench. He had just called Alex, the second eldest child to Reginald Greene, a bawdy wench. Her jaw dropped as her first reaction to the cold verbal-slap to the face. Her skin boiled with anger as the boy continued to insult her as if there was absolutely no regard to who she was or even showed any knowledge to the kingdoms around him-- as if she knew herself, though. Thoughts of anger raced through her head, not only from being called a wench, but a drunk at that. The courageous young female became lost in her thoughts, to the last time she was insulted in such a way. Back to her travels when she was riding around the countryside. As she thought to herself, she remembered something she would have to investigate later with a particular male who she just so happened to know was at the castle.
Though as nice as it was reminiscing about her travels, she was quickly brought back to the present with the biting words from the bitter young prince. "Girl. Did he just call me Girl?" She cocked an eyebrow at the male, taken aback by his rather blunt and rude statements, solely because of how she was dressed. Alex was not about to let him leave without an apology. Just as he attempted to step around her, subconsciously using her, she quickly sidestepped her way around the man with several graceful strides and twirls, making her way around him and back to the very middle of his path. It was those moves that came in handy when she used her cutlass, though she had absolutely no intention of using it now. And so, with the grace of a dancer and then some she moved her rather petite frame in the way of the brooding Stefen. There was no way the strong-willed male would be leaving without talking to her again.
Alex shot a glare at him with the same potency of his own as she stood rather firmly in her place.
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
She started, staring coldly into the man's eyes. Even with her height of Five Ten, Stefen still seemed to have a good half a foot on her, though she didn't know the exact height. "What has this world come to when you go around judging a book by its cover?" She retorted in a sharpened tone, taking a closer step to the now halted and possibly more aggravated half-breed. Being from Fortitude, she had absolutely no problem standing in the face of danger, which is really a double edged sword for her. "But I swear by the Gods if you call me a wench or a drunkard again. . ." she bit her tongue and took a deep breath. She would not stoop down to the anger of the wrathian culture her kingdom had done so well to get rid of. Her cheeks were hot and her eyes unmoving. "I am the eldest princess of Fortitude. I dress in this garb because of my recent travels. I'd apologize, but I feel that you would only spit upon the words I have to offer, being the judgmental brute you've been acting like in what, under a minute of meeting me?"
Though she was usually not one to toss around slanderous words, Alex had a tendency to snap at those who were not civil or kind to her. "And it seems as if you haven't even forgiven me a first time, so can you do either when you refuse to give people a chance." She spoke to him a melodic tone, the original fire and passion behind her words vanished. The angel remained standing less than a foot away from the male, blocking his exit out of the secret oasis the halls had been so kind as to allow them to stumble upon. She would not be the first one to back away from their stare down, even though the once heavy look of anger had left her eyes. Her expression conveyed seemed more compassionate this time around, forgiving. It was just a matter of whether or not Stefen would be able to man up and step down.
"Alexandria." She said finally, still looking up at the male assuming he would in fact be willing to listen. "Alexandria Greene, to be specific." she pursed her lips together in a sort of a smirk with her eyebrows raised, in a way it was literally impossible to take offensively. She was smiling, however, because The ex-pirate was not recognized from the few wanted posters she had scattered around the kingdoms. It's not that she did bad deeds, in fact, it was the opposite in some cases. But none the less, she had quite the collective bounty on her head--under a fake name of course. "And to what name do you go by? Because it'd be incredibly rude of you to allow a lady to leave without a proper name." she said, cocking an eyebrow at the man as she crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.
She sighed and looked away for a moment, focusing on a large, vibrant flower that slowly was blooming next to the two of them. The dark green of its stem slowly pulled away to show loud pinks and yellows of different shades. Alex watched it in awe for a moment, unaware of whether or not Stefen even noticed it was going on, but she didn't care either way. That guilt that she had felt earlier seemed to bubble back to her surface: She wasn't the violent type unless provoked, and she didn't want to spend her first hour within the household causing harm to other people. it's just no right. Finding that Stefen may think she was being rude--if he didn't already, the angel quickly returned her attention to the male, hoping he would break the silence in a preferably non-violent way.
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Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2011 5:02 pm
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI might steal your clothes  xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand wear them if they fit meKingdom: Veritas/Lust Rank: Peasant/ Gypsy Location: Hallway.╔═════════════════════════════════════♛═════════════════════════════════════╗Tao let out a sigh as things began to move around him. He seemed to zone out, entirely content on getting where he was going. He heard the two men behind him talk, well more so Theoran speak and be spoken back to in a private channel. He didn't care much for secrets, but he left them to their business. Whatever it was they wanted to talk about was fine with him, just as he was well left to concentrate on walking.
As John spoke of bread and other foods his mouth watered. He really should have taken the angel's offer of that apple earlier. What he needed was a good feast and a nice rest. Perhaps he would retire to the angel's room with him after all of this. He nearly spit at the mention of Martin's name, "I'd rather keep away from that one, in my condition I won't make another encounter with him."
As they entered the dining hall Tao sensed something was wrong, but in his current condition and mind set, he frankly didn't give a damn what upset the damned nobles. He would continue on until interrupted by John. He sat waiting while the angel spoke to a nearby boy, relying on the wall to support him.
A simple nod was all that came from Tao. No frown or sense of distaste. "Chances are they were killed, Martin was a fool for trying to intervene. By the gods, this place was supposed to be a safe haven for you nobles, seems that someone really has it out for you lot." He placed a hand upon his face and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. No, he was not upset about the deaths, frankly he could care less. From what he heard Dorian was a rutheless b***h, and deserved it... Wait... "John, I guess condolences are in order, she was your wife to be. Looks like all you have is myself for now."
Naturally a smirk formed upon his face. It seemed someone had taken care of the wench, leaving the angel to him. No more having to worry about the succubus. Shame though, he didn't know her brother. If he fell not far from her, he was thankful for that.╚═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝☪ OOC ☪ Never made agreements, just like a gypsy And I won't back down because life's already bit me And I won't cry, because I'm too young to die if you're gonna quit me'Cause I'm a gypsy
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Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2011 6:32 pm
 Theoran Lynth Kingdom: Avarice
Occupation: Sellsword
Location: Hallways >> Kitchen >> Dining Hall
Thoughts: Dead royalty is nothing new, but what of my contract? "From an almost negligible length of time that these images could not possibly fit," Theoran added in quickly after John. Apparently what they were experiencing was the same, which only served to increase Theoran's discomfort. This "safe haven" was getting more and more dangerous by the minute. Who's idea was it to entrust the safety of the heirs with a God that obviously was more inclined to amuse Himself that look after his charges? Not that the warrior was complaining, he had enjoyed the catacombs, and was foolish enough to gladly charge in there a second time. At least now he would have some idea of what to expect, or to not expect anything in particular as the case may be.
Once the connection was re-established with the topic of food, Theoran gave John a knowing look. "But these kitchens serve royalty," Theoran pointed out. "Though you yourself may be a Prince, the common rabble such as myself and Tao here, may only get an meagre selection of scraps and bones." His point was greatly exaggerated, as per his distaste, since he had had his choice over the previous days he'd been there. But even then, he had avoided dining with the royal families, knowing he would only serve to make powerful enemies. Though when the prince mentioned his hopes for the halls to be merciful, Theoran couldn't help but agree. Certainly, they appeared to have a mind of their own. "Only in a God's plane," he said almost bitterly, giving the wall a sidelong glance as if it were a living thing.
Upon arriving at the kitchens, the unnerved discomfort hit Theoran like a wet fish, and his warrior instincts had his hands drifting towards his swords. John's question, though unnecessary, did serve to draw Theoran's hands away. He didn't voice it, but he could have sworn the atmosphere felt like death, as if he had just unwittingly waltzed into a lions den. Needless to say, his appetite had been long forgotten. Not even the smells brought forth a reaction from his stomach. As the prince questioned the boy, Theoran drifted over to the door adjoining the Dining Hall, peering through the slightest crack. His eyes locked onto the scene the instant the boy described it. The all too familiar bodies visible through a convenient gap in the tables and gathered crowd.
Before the boy could heed the princes directions, Theoran flicked him a gold piece, regardless of whether or not he needed it in a place like this. It was the principle, information doesn't come without a cost, and there was no love lost over a dead royal. "My Lord... John. You have my condolences," he offered after Tao, though is mind had taken a tangent. "If you had taken this betrothal to heart, then this news must weigh heavier than I can imagine. But if the heirs have been killed, then Avarice must be at a political crossroad, which does not bode well for my... present circumstances." It may have sounded cold, but now Theoran had his own neck to worry about. It was safe to assume the contract was null and void, but if the family was accused of treason, it could leave him in a.... difficult situation.
"Forgive me, but I must take my leave." He offered the pair a polite bow before turning sharply and moving into the Dining Hall. He made no effort to draw attention to his entering, he merely scanned the scene, noting the outrage, shock, denial, pride. The servants were already making the effort to remove the bodies and clean the spilled blood. Until finally his eyes fell upon whom he assumed to be the new heiress to the Avarician throne, Dominique d’Aquitaine. From the way she held herself he could tell that nothing much changes between royal figures of Avarice. He sniggered quietly to himself, wondering how long this royal family would last.
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Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 3:28 pm
 Rank: Youngest Princess
Kingdom: Wrath
Location: In the hall with Jasper, Lincoln, Soren and Lucas █║▌│█│║▌║││█║▌│║║█║█║▌│█║▌│║║█║
Mishka watched her brother come nearly missing what Jasper had said to Lucas and narrowed her eyes slightly at him. “I do not know if it is an enemy kingdom and I would not give Fortitude that much credit to hire a creature such as this to slander our family. Those dogs do not have it in them to do such a thing. Even in times such as these.” She commented, her pale blue pools watching Lucas. Listening to her twin chuckling as he agreed with her. The two’s views of their enemy was similar and it still angered the Masterson daughter that she would have to marry into their pathetic family. To John Greene whom she had still yet to meet.
Though she’d heard rumors that he was not respected in his family and would not inherit the crown and that simply would not do. Not at all. She would not settle for anything less than being a Queen. She was bread to be one and anything less was unacceptable. Yet…her pools flickered toward Jasper. If she could choose to be with someone it would be Jasper. She wouldn’t care then because she loved him. Even if she could never admit it to him, she did. Yet something deep inside of her told her that if she did it would be their undoing. For what would happen to a knight who was in love with a princess? He would be safe if he did not sleep with Mishka. She thought or rather hoped but then the thought of a child made her hands itch to touch her stomach.
Then the sound of another set of foot steps drew her from her thoughts. Her pools flickered toward Lincoln and despite the grim situation she found herself smiling and wanting to go to him and hug him to make sure it was indeed him. Yet this wasn’t the time for that. She would hold her ground and wait till later when she could cry shamelessly and be happy that her brother was alive and that she hadn’t nearly lost him…again. Mishka nearly jumped when she felt an arm go over her shoulder, Lincoln moving to talk to Soren. Yet the moment the warmth enveloped her she knew that it was Lucas and her sword lowered and she leaned against him. A small sigh leaving her lips as she relaxed against him.
When Lincoln spoke again about the thing on the floor, that evil…evil creature Mishka turned away from him. Her lashes falling against her cheeks as she lightly bit her lower lip. Not wanting to remember how she felt her world falling apart as the imposter fell. How her heart had raced and how her anger had swelled. It was nearly as bad as when Lincoln had been nearly killed before. How his mother had chased her from the room not allowing her to see her brother and how broken it had left Mishka. She couldn’t loose her brothers. It was just something she could not do.
Mishka shivered as the melody of her eldest brother pulled her from her thoughts asking her if the Envy knight, now known as Soren had do anything to further upset her. She shook her head. “No. It was a miss understanding broth-” Then Lucas chimed in and she narrowed her eyes up at him. Jutting out her elbow till it contacted with her twin’s side. His chucking silenced by an oomph. Her hard pools danced with amusement as she looked to her twin. “I’m not a middles Watharien who can not control her temper.” She uttered as he made yet another comment causing her to roll her eyes. “Lucas you’re such a terrible twin.” But at least he’d managed to calm her and the tension around her seemed to lesson.
When Lincoln mentioned food she nodded. Considering she had not eaten since that morning when she had been home and she was indeed famished. “I’d lo-” Then it seemed Lucas was not through with his mode and tormented their brother. Mishka rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Well you’re in a pleasant mood tonight.” She muttered even though she was thankful for it, for his teasing. It helped lift her own spirits which had been foul moments before. The princess tucked her sword away into hit’s hiding place.
“I’d love to dine with you, with both of my brothers. Who I’m happy are here with me.” She uttered, watching as his eyes softened and the joy that danced there. Causing her smile to grow and she nodded again -I was so scared Lincoln.- She uttered into his mind, a soft melody and admission that caused her pale hues to reflect her sadness and earlier fears. -It was like before Lincoln. Only I was the one to find you as you fell over.- She uttered as Soren finally spoke up. Drawing her attention toward her. And for the third time the woman spoke the same tale and explained to Lincoln what had happened and that her anger had been triggered by it.
Mishka felt the fingers of Lucas dig into her arm as he offered her comfort in his silent way before Mishka cleared her throat. “Lady… Soren. I do apologize about my temper about not giving you much of a chance to explain. But these are my brothers and I hope you understand how protective a little sister must be over them. Especially considering how the men of Wrath never seem to behave and are always getting into trouble.” A small smile touched her lips as she looked to Lincoln and then back to Soren. “But thank you for being tolerant.” She uttered with a small nod---hoping that what she’d been told was the truth and that Soren was just a victim here as well.
“Now that this is handled.. Shall we all head to dinner?” She asked looking to each of the group a dazzling smile holding her lips as she waited for their answer. All the while keeping the link open between she and Lincoln incase he had more to say to her that he wished the others not to hear. Despite how much she knew he did not like the invasion.. But it wasn’t as if she would go snooping about his mind, just for conversation purposes. He knew that, or at least she prayed that he did.
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Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 3:29 pm
 Rank: Youngest Prince
Kingdom: Wrath
Location: In the hall with Jasper, Lincoln, Soren and Mishka █║▌│█│║▌║││█║▌│║║█║█║▌│█║▌│║║█║
The prince bit the inside of his cheek trying to calm his own fury to seeing his sister upset. Remembering how she’d pleaded for him to come. Knowing all to well that his sibling had been crying and even now as he stood there looking upon his twin seeing even at this distance that her eyes were red and puffy from her tears. What ever had upset her would surely pay gravely for what it had done.
It was then at that moment that Jasper, his kingdoms knight spoke to him. “You may.” He uttered as the other male continued to speak of a shapshifter and some evil plan to unsettle the kingdoms. But some piece was missing here what was it that had upset his sister? Surely some plan wouldn’t bring her to tears. No one other than himself had heard those pleases, the urgency in her soft melody. As if the world around her had come tumbling down and she was alone and broken hearted. His pools flickered toward the woman whom Jasper had indicated to be a Knight of Envy (an allied country) was an innocent bystander.
“But of what is my question.” He said as he looked back to his sister who spoke of Foritiude not having their wits about them in order to do such a thing. “True sister.” He uttered with a slight chuckle. It was then that Lincoln joined the group.
Lincoln moved past him and toward the knight. The younger Masterson male had a feeling he was trying to defuse the situation but Lucas himself was still puzzled with what was going on. His sister wasn’t one to cry over nothing. Hell when they were smaller and got into scuffles because he’d begged her to challenge him to a duel and she’d fallen and scrapped her knee---though he knew it hurt---she did not cry. Let alone cry as she’d been. He was confused and did not like the idea of being out of the loop about as much as he didn’t like his twin being upset. As Lincoln talked to Soren he moved to Mishka an arm drapping over her shoulder as she lowered her weapon and rested against him. Clearly calming down.
Then Lincoln spoke again as he examined the thing that rested on the floor. His brow raising as his brother mentioned a battle earlier and he wondered if that was the battle that had dealt him the nasty wound on his arm. “Do you think it is possible that he was wearing a disguise that resembled you? Using some sort of dark magic brother?” He asked as his pools flickering toward his sister wondering if that was what had upset her. It would make sense…considering how it looked now.
Then the heir spoke to their sister and Lucas knew there was a chance with the words that left his lips that his sister would become angry but she didn’t seem to show any sign of it as she looked to the older fair haired male. “Watch it Lincoln she might turn that blade on you.” He chuckled only to receive a sharp elbow to his side from his twin.
“What I was joking!” He uttered rubbing his side and stepping away from his twin. “Careful sister your wrath is showing.” He continued to tease her lightening the mood as much as he could. Then his brother mentioned dinner. Lucas shook his head, hand raising as fingers slid through his dark locks. "You really must be famished brother with the way you keep mentioning dinner. Here our little Mishka is clearly upset and all that is on your mind is food. Tisk tisk." He uttered shaking a finger at the Heir. Obviously in a far better mood now that he was no where near the siren princess and allowed for the moment not to have her scent, amber eyes and very presences taunting him or his darker half. It was relaxing. Perhaps that was why he was suddenly in this teasing mood.
Then again he always seemed to be in such a mood when in the company of his twin. It was then that the Knight who had been moments away from tasting the Masterson fury spoke and drew his dark pools toward her. Listening to the words that she spoke, finally in that moment realizing why his sister had been weeping and begging for him to come to her. His fingers curled more snugly around her shoulder and held her close. She thought Lincoln had been slain. It would have been like when Lincoln was nearly killed. He hadn't been able to go home but he'd heard about it and it had been a miracle when he'd gained word that his brother was alright. Though he couldn't imagine how much it had upset Mishka..
But he was in too much pain of his own to reach out to her. Still he wanted to keep the knowledge of his lover from his sister and others around him. It was a burden he wished to carry on his own. Mishka offered an apology to the Envy knight then and soon spoke of dinner. “Alright wouldn’t want our brother fainting from lack of food.” He chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. How long had it been since he’d been given the chance to teas his brother in such a fashion? Far too long, the two had much to catch up on.
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Posted: Tue Nov 22, 2011 12:05 pm
Ɉϕɧɳ Ӎiҫɧɑϵɭ Gɍϵϵɳϵ Kingdom: Fortitude Rank: Prince Location: Kitchen with Theoran and Tao, then just Tao, I should not find those apples appetizing...and yet I do. White walls surround us
As we sleep among the dead (()) Before John had directed the boy to leave, his silver blues caught a glimpse of gold being flicked in the boy’s direction. He watched as the boy caught it with his eyes focusing on the coin. It almost made the prince feel stupid for not remembering that information always came at a cost. That principle was something he had to learn quickly in the art of spying. After all, some of the most important information came from informants. But, seeking knowledge from such a source was a double edged sword, especially if something wasn’t being given in exchange. Thus, while the prince didn’t think there was anything to worry about if the boy hadn’t been paid, a part of him felt a sense of relief. A sense of relief he felt guilty for feeling. For this was no time to feel relieved. This was a time to mourn for the dead. However, even the angel found it hard to feel sad for people he barely knew, even if Dorian was his wife to be…
After the prince had told the boy to go off and he did, John had addressed Tao and Theoran. Once he was done, his gaze fell on the thief who spoke first. He wasn’t sure on how to feel about Martin intervening. Without knowing how close Martin was to Dorian and Lucien, the prince couldn’t be quite sure if it was a foolish act or not. For he knew if one of his siblings was in danger of dying, John would intervene in a second. In some ways, the prince knew he would give the same treatment to anyone.
After all, the angel tried his hardest to make sure none of the people under his lead died. While sometimes that meant letting himself or others get harmed, at least they were still breathing. At least they still had an opportunity to take charge of their lives…unlike the dead. The dead that could only rot as they rested six feet under, sometimes not even given the decency to be six feet under…Thus, in his mind, while death was inevitable, there was no reason why he shouldn’t prevent it if he could.
“I am not sure I would call his actions foolish…Not when people are taught to defend people higher than themselves every day.” The corners of his lips turned downward, his silver blues now seeming to hold a bit more sadness than before. “Not when people believe dying to save another is a worthy cause…” For his best friend had been willingly to become a knight so he could make sure John and his siblings were safe. But, Darius never made it to adulthood. He died before he could. Though, if he had…would John have allowed him to do such a thing? Allow Darius to intervene by taking a blade to the heart just to allow John to live? Admittedly…he wasn’t so sure on that. “Though…it is sad to see such nobleness…only for the person to be cut down…” His silver blues looked towards the door briefly before looking back at Tao. “Then again…there are many more that die in such a way…and are never remembered…” John left it at that, his mind not wanting to recall how war was filled with death. The deaths of many that most would never remember…
At the idea of this place not being safe, John couldn’t help but chuckle. But, the sound wasn’t filled with any mirth or happiness. If anything, it sounded a bit sarcastic, as if John knew there was no way they could be deceived any longer. This place hadn’t been safe from the start. For while it had kept the wars outside away from them…it hadn’t kept them from the wars inside. And as the saying goes, when someone wants to take out someone, they need to destroy them from the inside out…Unfortunately, it seemed the nobles were doing a damn good job of doing just that. “Doesn’t everyone?” While not all royals were bad people, that didn’t stop the fact that all royals, including himself, could be accused of treating others lower than themselves at times. Whether it was in the way they addressed the person, or acted around them, there was still that invisible wall. An invisible wall that John hoped Tao and Theoran didn’t feel around him…Then again, it was hard to ignore that which has been there since birth. What a terrible way to see the world.
For a brief moment, a look of concern crossed his face as Tao placed a hand on his face. He didn’t necessarily think Tao would get terribly upset by the death of people he didn’t know. That would be expecting too much out of anyone. However, was the thief more sensitive to death than John thought? His hand reached out to try and comfort the thief. But, the moment words left the thief’s lips, his hand stopped. It rested in mid-air before moving back to his side, listening to Tao offering his condolences.
While the kind words were appreciated, they were not necessary to John. He and Dorian had barely been able to form any sort of bond. If there was any, it was only based on physical attraction brought upon him by her succubus abilities, and curiosity on possibly both of their parts towards the other. Otherwise, their only bond was the bond of forced marriage. And while John didn’t like how the marriage was annulled…a part of him was glad to be rid of such none sense.
“I thank you for your kind gesture, Tao. But, they are not needed, not when I’m sure even she wouldn’t expect me to shed any tears over her loss…” Though, as the angel spoke, the rest of Tao’s statement registered in his brain. Eyebrows rose as he looked at the thief with a puzzled expression. Was the thief inferring what John thought he was inferring? If that was the case...wow did Tao had bad timing of bringing up such embarrassing things! As his mouth moved to try and relieve the confusion, John was stopped by Theoran.
He listened to Theoran, nodding slightly as his lips formed into a small smile. However, that smile was short lived. For while Theoran’s words made sense to his military self, his more human self found the words to be…cold. Shouldn’t he be focusing on the fact people died? Not on the fact Avarice would be in political turmoil? Then again, the deaths of the former royal family would signal chaos the moment it happened. Thus, in some ways, it was hard to separate the two. For this reason, John did not find himself upset at Theoran’s words. Instead, John’s eyebrows furrowed as his expression took on a calm look, his silvers blues seeming to try and show understanding. However, there were differences between someone of the military and someone for hire that would make complete understanding…utterly impossible.
“As I told Tao, I was not close to her. For that reason, my mourning over her death shall be like most who hear the death of someone they don’t know. They just feel sympathy for the people that lost someone dear, and then move on.” The angel hoped his own words weren’t cold. But, it was would hard to deny the truth in them. Then again, whoever mourned the loss of the royal other than well...other royals… “But, I appreciate the kind intentions in your words…Though as you said, the death of the previous royal family will put the people from Avarice in a predicament…even people outside of it if one thinks about it.” For wouldn’t this effect the war he believed was raging between Avarice and Humility? Maybe for them, the war would end now due to Avarice’s own issues. If that was the case, at least one of the wars would finally end…But let left too many left to go…
Thus, as the conversation rolled on, it only made sense that Theoran felt the need to take his leave. After all, he would need to figure out what his future was going to be. “No need to apologize. Farewell Theoran, and I wish you good luck.” The angel watched as the mercenary bowed and left the room. With this, a small sigh left the John’s mouth, not entirely realizing he had been holding his breath. “I did not expect us to find ourselves with death upon our platter…” Wait that sounded wrong. “I mean…I did not expect us to find ourselves walking in upon more dead things…” Damnit John! “Oh never mind! You get my point!” The angel didn’t even try to articulate his feelings again as he looked around, not sure if it would be insensitive to grab something or not. After all, even if Tao’s appetite was ruined, he was in no condition not to have something to eat.
“But sense it would be silly to have come here for nothing…even with the present circumstances…” His eyes caught some bread nearby that looked to be freshly made, a small grin forming on his face. Though, until the shock of the deaths had passed, his little happy moments would not as vibrant as usual. The angel also noticed some apples which caused his tongue to move across his lips. Even with his appetite gone, the idea of having some apples still seemed…pretty good right now. “How about we get some of that bread and some apples, and find us a place to eat? That is, unless you just want to stay in here and eat. Might be best since you can barely walk without the need of a wall” Besides, as long as we don’t eat in the dining hall, I’m good. Even with the close proximity, John could tolerate it. After all, it wasn’t like they were in the same exact room. Thus, the angel moved towards the apples first, his eyes looking over them to make sure he got the freshest ones of the both of them. We can chase the dark together
As the sky returns to grey
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Posted: Wed Nov 23, 2011 9:39 pm
Kingdom: Wrath
Rank: Prince
Location: tropical greenhouse
Mood: grumpy, but calming 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 RollinsThough Alex moved very quickly, it did not take Stefan aback initially. He didn't know her personally, but to judge by her facial reactions as he spoke and insulted her, the large man was almost sure he would have to deal with some kind of fiery reaction. Being stopped from leaving before she could get a word in was more or less expected. Her initial comment, about kissing his mother with the same mouth he used to insult her caused him to smirk slightly. Of course not, he didn't do such things. Not only would the queen never allow such weak and pitiful shows of affection, she would kill him for even considering such an act.
Then it sounded as if she was going to threaten him, and his repressed but still present fey nature begged him to be mischievous, to taunt her just to see her reaction. He stopped himself when she did as well, not finishing her sentence. Her admittance to being a princess made him feel a touch regretful for his words (though with that clothing, how was he supposed to know?), if only because he was worried about what kind of hornet's nest he was stirring.
However, when she mentioned she was from Fortitude, he felt a bit more relaxed. It wasn't as if he could start a war when there was all ready one going on, right? "If you dressed your station in proper traveling clothes there wouldn't have even been a problem. It's your own fault for choosing the wrong kind of outfit." Skewed logic, but it made sense to him. It wasn’t necessarily aristocratic arrogance, but still arrogance all the same.
No longer feeling as angry, just irritated, he answered her, "Actually I did. You act clumsy and all... BUBBLY, as if what you did was nothing." From his enunciation, it would have been an easy bet what part was more insulting. "I could have challenged you to a duel for such an insult, and instead I was willing to pardon your actions and leave you in peace. I would say that's more than fair chance." Her tone had been a bit softer now, and it made it harder for him to argue against. Give him someone screaming and cursing, and he could match them in force and volume. But now? He wasn't quite sure how to continue without sounding like a child.
Stefan tried to match her stare, though his was still a bit angry in comparison to hers. It was doubtful he would back down regardless if it would have proven he was as mature as he looked. No, by his attempt to out stare her (despite the way her gaze had lessened in intensity), he was acting more the boy she thought him to be. Yet it was his personality to never back down from a true fight, though her continued softening in attitude was making this seem less and less of one.
He was not threatened by her introduction, and in fact even less regretful of his words to her. He didn’t know about the war in full detail with Fortitude, not like most of his brothers, but he had the basic idea down. They were a weak kingdom, filled with strange ideas and backwards customs. Lincoln had told him that one day Wrath would destroy and overcome Fortitude. It was not a certainty it would occur during his reign, but if not, then more than likely by the time his heir would come to power.
The Wrathian prince was unable to hold back a victorious smirk when the princess was the first to break eye contact. He was sure, in his own mind, that she had done so in defeat, only faking the expression that something else had caught her eye to try to save face. He wouldn’t fall for that trick by following her gaze, ha! Despite his opinion of Fortitude, he gave her a nod of acknowledgment of her rank. “I am Stefan Masterson of Wrath. If you are satisfied, I will be on my way.”
He was very tempted to tell her to leave this place and never come back to it, just so he could come back to visit it in private, but he had a feeling she would demand a reason as to why. And then what if she told others in the castle? Then he’d be laughed at even before he got to meet anyone else. Stefan wanted to say something else to her, but wasn’t sure what. Another insult, and she would undoubtedly shrew at him some more. If he left without another word, she might screech afterward that he was being rude. but his only other option really was to escort her somewhere (unlikely not only because he didn’t like her, but also because he didn’t know this castle at all). Perhaps he could simply ask her for directions? That would be the safest bet, or at least that was what he figured.
“However, as I am newly arrived, I am not sure where the private rooms are. Do you know?” There. If she did know, then he could hurry up and find his room, then meet up with his mother and aunt. If she didn’t, he wouldn’t have to be polite about it, and could just leave. It certainly seemed a perfect plan... but most of the time Stefan’s plots did not go according to plan. 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: Sat Nov 26, 2011 3:52 am
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Ӄῐηɠɖѻɱ: Avarice
Ƚѻҫӓʈΐѻη: Veritas Kingdom - Dining Hall
Ɍӓηҟ: Heiress ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  Dominique watched with mirthless, duty driven eyes as her Vice Marshal wiped out the remaining opposition that might have held an unlawful claim to her throne. Eyes the color of amethyst quartz bore into her enemy without pity. She could not show weakness. Not even while watching blood spray through the air… A lesser woman would have shown some kind of emotion…Be it fear, disbelief, horror…But the High Princess to Avarice merely settled down in her high backed chair…Her eyes fading back to their natural, sparkling aquamarine hue. The swinging pendulum faded, falling away piece by piece in small glittering wisps… As if it had never been.
Fandral learned towards her, and she remained still, a marble statue…Though her lips did quirk into a faint, kittenish smirk. It faded quickly…But her Vice Marshal would know nevertheless, that she was pleased with his efficiency. It his ability to follow her orders, no matter how horrific they’d been. Then again… He had spent years in the cloth of a respected assassin… A little death to him, was likely no more different than afternoon brunch to her. “Indeed it is done…Though I fear their filth will stain these halls, and the halls of my home for quite some time. Such foulness is not washed away so easily.”
Something brushed against her under the table, and a quick glance down showed it to be her familiar and animal companion—Axella. The female creature was a large, fearsome feline. Some kind of tiger, she’d been told…Though it had been the only one she’d ever seen outside of paintings and literature. The white and black striped beast slipped away from her once acknowledged, and lay several feet behind her chair…Somehow seeming to have enough presence of mind to leave her room to stand, if need be.
“Be at ease, mes amis fidèles…”, she commanded of her knights that stood along the wall behind her, their faces, no doubt pallor from her swift execution—Hidden by intricate, white steel and gold inlaid Avarician helms. Her hand maiden’s remained with their heads bowed…Though they uttered not a sound. Not of surprise, or disgust. “There will be no more violence tonight. I’ve had my fill of blood and justice.”
“Though we do require more honey wine.”, she intoned to the servant whose mouth had not yet closed since the trial first started. Her cool, formal tones, seemed to jar the servant into action—Who scurried off. The stench of Cambion blood was sickening to her…Unsettling. She would smell it in this room for a fortnight. Her eyes turned to the front of the hall with apparent disinterest and apathy…A young girl, a royal, from her fine clothing and aristocratic features seemed to be having a mental breakdown. To which a dark haired male came running from the Humilitarian table… Prince Altonair, of Envy. So valiant… But the recently deceased Page-boy had described him as such. The little one must have been the youngest of the Envian royalty in the castle… A pity, that she witnessed such things.
Though it was best that she became accustomed with death and loss at an early age. Else she’d never survive it as she matured. The worst was yet to come—For them all, so it seemed.
Her eyes turned back towards Fandral…Noticing with mild curiosity that he’d not taken his gaze from the Humilitian’s. One would think that he would have watched the more dangerous figures in the room… But no, he seemed focused on one point. As the darker skinned child of King Riley moved…So did the eyes of her Vice Marshal. They were not kind, nor appreciative of her form…So why did he stare so intensely? Did he worry she may attack? Her voice was quiet as the princess turned pained, wounded eyes in their direction…Such a gaze may have incurred guilt—But Dominique merely ignored her…And her feeble attempts to revive the fallen dragon-born. “You may not lay a hand or blade against her, my Marshal…Though I know not what the pixie has done to you to incur such ill favor. Our houses have a treaty—That I’ll not break without provocation.”
“Of all that you glare at in the room…Why the nigh pacifistic princess?”, the heiress questioned of her subordinate…Using a gilded fan to decoratively shield the bottom half of her face. She didn’t need those good at reading lips, knowing what she was saying to her guardian. It truly baffled her however… Why Fandral felt the need to threaten a party that he need not fear. Of all those in the room…Naedira Riley was the least of their collective concerns.
Several individuals came and went, seeming to take in the gory mess on the floor—Before fleeing with their tails between their legs, like a cowed b***h. Dominique cared not… Her ego was not so large that she needed her audience to remain among the carnage to suit her whimsical fancies…It had only been imperative to have enough individuals present that word of her ruthlessness would spread. Now that the deed was complete… She would finish her meal at a leisurely pace, and leave only when she felt the need to.
A silent apology rang through her, not for the deaths—She regretted nothing of that. But for the poor butler like Kirkis, and other servants, that would no doubt have to handle the clean up. Her third mother would have frowned at her making such a mess...While her second mother would have reveled in it. Cambion blood was especially offensive to her senses…She wondered if anyone else suffered the same. Others came into the room still… But unless they approached her directly, she would not deign to speak to them.
As far as she was concerned…Her evening had been eventful enough. Her parents would be pleased that the children of the Malcanthet were disposed of…It was just one more aspect of securing her family on the throne. The Cambion would fall away without their Queen, and her whore-bound children. Avarician’s could stop dying from the raging civil war that had began before she’d left for her many times great uncle’s lands.
The d’Aquitaine had miles to go before the repercussions came to an end, for seizing what was rightfully theirs… But Dominique would do what needed to be done.
No matter the cost, or the consequences. Come what may, she would be waiting.
 
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 5:17 pm
 Ӄɨɍɨϙȿ Ďɍɇɨȿȿɇὴ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✠ Ӄingdom: Justice
Ɍank: General
Ƚocation: From Kirios’s chambers to Corrine’s
Ⱦhoughts: From one chamber to another… there’s an unspeakable joke in there somewhere… ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✠ The Wrathian royal did not disappoint the general, describing a brief account of several adventures she’d had while in her time here. Apparently being in a castle full of young aristocrats and those who love/hate them would not be as dull as he’d expected. Truly an interesting development, and one that was becoming apparent the longer he stayed here. ”Then it truly does sound like my stay here will be an enjoyable one, for adventure and combat are but two of the things which keep a man like myself sated.” He smirked then, recalling her sudden shift in tone when speaking of her betrothed. ”Some of my men are infamous for mistaking male elves for that of the fairer sex; needless to say, this has led to some of the most interesting tavern tales I’d ever heard.”
He paused for a chuckle and continued. ”I take it the elf in question is not satisfactory company?” Of course, he had no idea said elf just so happened to be a royal from his very kingdom, but what was he going to do? It was not that he meant to pry into the woman’s personal life, more that curiosity had taken over. But it would be no problem for him if she chose to remain quiet on the subject.
The two were mostly quiet as they made their way to his room and entered, Kirios quickly picking out spare clothes to offer the woman’s friend. Upon hearing his comment the woman responded in kind with a playful tone that he could not help but find amusing. Without missing a beat a gave his own reply through a smile of his own, ”Of course, milady, I implied nothing of the sort. Though I admit your mind wandering to that place so soon in our meeting is quite flattering; your lips are not those I would turn away.”
His eyes could not help themselves but follow the arch duchess’s form as she stepped toward the door, eyes meeting hers when she turned her head to face him. ”Why of course, milady. Would you kindly lead on?” He closed the door behind him as he walked in step with the Wrathian arch duchess. Admittedly, he occasionally stole glances on the woman’s form as they walked; one simply could not change his nature, not that he’d tried. As Corrine opened the door he heard a very familiar voice, that of Lorelei’s, the woman who’d so tempted him not much earlier. It would seem their next meeting would be much sooner than he’d imagined.
He stepped in and stuck to Corrine’s side, taking a moment to look around the room before allowing his eyes to land back upon Corrine. He offered the Wrathian a smile of his own, shrugging as she suggested he could keep the clothes he’d so generously offered. ”Well, if the man wants them, I’ll not deny them to him.” He turned toward the man in question, offering him a slight bow of acknowledgment. ”If you’ve need of anymore clothing, be aware that I’d be more than willing to offer any of my own; I’ve more than my fair share.”
He bowed his head toward the others as Corrine introduced him. While he clearly did not need the introduction for Lorelei and Sasha, it did not hurt to introduce him to their half-naked friend. It also suddenly occurred to him that the same magic he felt earlier was emanating from the man; not as if he was the source, but as though he were doubly affected by whatever black magicks had affected those around him. There must have been much more to the story than him simply being found naked, but for now he was content just to observe how the others acted. Corrine explained a bit of the situation to the others, and Sokar made no effort to conceal himself as he changed; the man was truly an odd fellow. Perhaps he was poorly educated?
But it was then that Lorelei breathed out sharply and suggested they all leave for the dining hall, implying something had gone wrong. He wondered if the dreaded source of the evil magic he felt, and Corrine mentioned, had shown their face again. If they did he would have no problem using his own magic to stop them if push came to shove. He made his way into the hall as Sokar lead the others and him. After a bit the man lead them toward the dining hall. Along the way Sasha opened up a new conversation, one he’d tried to initiate before. Kirios’s head tilted to the side slightly, realizing some of the images described in the dream being mentioned sounded familiar. Now that it was being mentioned, he recalled having similar visions, mostly involving Lorelei in very little clothing. He took a glance in the Lustian’s direction for a moment, then turned back toward Corrine. ”I am curious as well.” ((OOC: The end was a bit rushed, sorry.)) 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: Mon Nov 28, 2011 6:20 pm
FORTITUDEXXXXXXXXXXXXXXRank: PrincessXXXXXXXXXXXXXXLocation: Tropical Garden,
Hate.
there are exactly forty-seven different words and phrase that could be interchanged with such a simple word, and yet none of them could describe the boiling feeling she felt in her stomach towards the arrogant wrathian prince. My fault? how exactly could one blame another for a poor judgment call that they themselves made? It was completely ridiculous that he would have the audacity to even say such things to her, even if they both were from opposing sides of a war. War was such a funny thing however; people would change their opinion of others in an instant if they found out what kingdom the other hailed from. It sickened the Alex to even think that he would come to such a conclusion without even speaking to her, though she could hold no permanent grudge. It just wasn't in her nature.
Though Stephen--who for a few moments she could read like a book--was able to shout and curse and swear at the pirate princess with absolutely no conscious, Alex was generally a compassionate person. She felt for those who couldn't, even her enemies she felt sorry for. Because every person, to her knowledge, has feelings and thoughts and when she was responsible for hurting them she often felt terrible. Except for the rare occasions she truly did despise someone, though in Stephen's case--she merely felt sorry for him. Sorry that he was so isolated and closed off from the world that he would ev--wait. did he just smirk? HE SMIRKED. "The b*****d." she thought to herself, aggravated that her first remarks weren't even considered in a serious tone.
The blonde watched as he reacted to her words in the most peculiar of ways. Even after she had admitted to being from fortitude his anger seemed to be nonexistent, though it was obvious that he found her irritating which only made the girl smile. "Good." she thought to herself as she smugly crossed her arms and stared up at the tall man. "At least I can get under his skin as he does mine." she thought to herself, her once soften gaze straightening to a squinty-eyed glare as he announced his own title.
A prince of wrath. Out of all the people she could have possibly wandered into she just had to run into the one who was probably the closest you could get to her polar opposite--At least, to her knowledge so far. Never the less, she nodded politely at Stephan who she could no longer refer to as the brooding stranger and watched him skeptically for a moment or two. Her father had tried telling her stories of the wrathian community; demonizing their people and the leaders and though she was sure there was some truth, she could never take his full word for it. He saw through prejudice eyes, and though she loved him with all her heart she just had to see these things for herself, and so she set off four years ago on her journies. Lost in thought, the male's words caught her by surprise when the rich chords of his voice rang in her ears.
"Actually I did. You act clumsy and all... BUBBLY, as if what you did was nothing . . . . I could have challenged you to a duel for such an insult, and instead I was willing to pardon your actions and leave you in peace. I would say that's more than fair chance."
She felt her fists clench under her arms as she gave him a rather c**k-eyed stare. "Are you mad?" Alexandria questioned the clueless man in a raised tone, laughter masked behind a sarcastic smile,"If you truly would have 'FORGIVEN' me, then why do you insist on insulting me so? And a recreational duel every now and then is rather nice. Not that you'd know, it seems." she said, eyeing Stephen up and down for a moment as her smug smile stayed plastered upon her features. A competitive fire seemed to glow somewhere deep inside her, though she refused to let it get the best of her at the moment. Just as quickly as it came though, she remembered that the wrathian people often had short tempers, so she decided to back track a bit, "Don't take my laughter the wrong way. I just find your way of thinking. . . peculiar, Stephen of Wrath." She added in one of the softer tones she possessed.
After her words he seemed to go into a quick line of thought. She smiled at him with raised features as the boyish giant contemplated over. . something. though she was unsure of what, to be exact. The silence between them was rather interesting, for it was neither awkward nor unpleasant. Just simply, existent. She tilted her head, letting golden locks of hair drape over her shoulder ever so slightly as the scent of the ocean seemed to fill her surroundings. It was rather nice actually, especially in their surroundings. Speaking of which, the thought of the brutish wrathian prince spending his time in a garden seemed to vex her thoughts. Making her wonder why such a rare occurrence was even happening at this point. She figured it wasn't common, and therefore decided it must be secret. "Ah, that would explain the hostilities." she thought to herself, her inner monologue breached only by the voice of her company.
“However, as I am newly arrived, I am not sure where the private rooms are. Do you know?”
Rooms. The original thing she had gone exploring for. She made a rather amusing pensive face as she turned behind her to see her small pile of things that had accumulated outside the door. "To tell you the truth, that's exactly what I was looking for before our. . .pleasant encounter." She started, not even taking the time to look at the tall creature standing in front of her, "But I've found that two head are often better than one on my travels. Would you care to join me in a quest to find our rooms? " she mused, speaking half-heartedly over her shoulder. This statement, though obvious, was entirely true and had quite the ridiculous story behind it. The mere mention of it made her think of the rather large dragon that she had fought several months before joining her pirate crew with a man. This man was someone she had fought along side with for what seemed like a year or two before their destinies finally parted, and if she remembered correctly his name was Fandral. The two had some rather interesting adventures together, some for money, and some for just the hell of it. Of course one of their greatest stories had yet to be told.
"That is, of course, unless you'd like to risk getting lost in this moving maze of hallways. I'm sure you could find your room within maybe a fortnight." she retorted, letting her words drip with sarcasm as she turned away from him, taking control of the conversation and walking away from him before he could she. The female pressed her palm against the cold pane of the glass, feeling a quick shiver as she exited the tropical greenhouse. She knelt down smoothly and wrapped the regal shining white cape around her shoulders, clasping it loosely just above her chest as she lifted her bag with her arm. "And besides, it's the least you could do escorting a lady after you've spent quite a large amount of time insulting the very ground she walks on." she said with a smile that only a fool would confuse to be malicious.
And on that note, Alex turned around to start on her trek, but she only took a step forward before uttering something that could be found rather soothing. "As for your garden. . .I won't tell a soul." She spoke smoothly, eyes forward without even looking at Stephen. She assumed it was the reason the male was silent for so long, putting two and two together the perceptive female was sure she understood. "But if for some reason you ever require a dueling partner, I wouldn't mind letting you take a few swings at me." she said with a smile, aware that he may find the offer to good to pass up--taking a swing at an equally arrogant loud-mouthed harpie. "You're welcome to lead the way though, Mr. Masterson. Seeing as it really is a case of the blind leading the blind." she said finally turning around to face the irritated male, awaiting politely for him to accept her offer, whether he liked it or not.
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 11:07 pm
 Ӻӓήȡɍᾀʆ Ψѳȴϝɍąɱ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☠ Ӄingdom: Avarice
Ɍank: Vice Marshal
Ƚocation: Dining hall
Ⱦhoughts: Oh how I want that one to pay… ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☠ The reactions of most of the other denizens of the castle did not disappoint. But the whole time his gaze was fixed on the Humilitan whore, the insult a simple observation from the visions he presumed she’d been sending him. They were memories of events that had never transpired. There was red silk, the bittersweet sting of passion-induced bites and scratches, and screaming… much, much screaming. While he did not remember it all very vividly, it came at him with occasional flashes in his mind. It was as if he were reliving the experience from many perspectives at once, but none of it had ever happened; of that he was certain, for how could he have lain with a woman he’d never met before in his life? No. The Humilitan b***h was using some kind of trickery on him, of that he was sure, and he hated her very being for it.
Were it not for the very tight leash he’d vowed to Dominique, he would love to simply run up to the woman and carve into her neck with one swift swing of his blade. And if anyone else were to interfere, he’d just as easily lay their broken bodies to rest as well. But for the sake of his mistress, he needed to stay calm. As much as he wanted desperately to turn the dining hall into more of a bloodbath than it already was, Dominique’s word was law. He just needed to grit his teeth and bear with the visions; It was not that the woman was not attractive, just that what she was doing to him was an intrusion he did not appreciate in the slightest, and one he wanted to make the woman pay dearly for, even in front of her father, the king of his respective land.
He noticed most of the other reactions of the people present in the dining hall from the periphery of his vision. As it was expected, most of them had displayed shock, fear, anger, a sudden loss of innocence, or a combination of any or all of the above. Accusatory eyes seemed to swarm in their direction, but as typical they did not understand. It was the two pretenders’ time to die, whether anyone accepted it or not. While it was through no intended fault of their own, their sin was that of lineage, they were just as guilty as the whores that tainted their once proud and beautiful city. They could blame their deaths on the misfortune of their births, and that was simply the way of things.
But through it all he noticed one particular reaction, the King’s sudden grip on the pommel of his sword. Was he expecting an attack? Perhaps he read into the assassin’s staring at his daughter a little too much, but that was only natural. An attack would surely come on the Humilitans, but only if Dominique ordered him to commit such an act. Otherwise they would be just as safe as everyone else who wisely chose to refrain from challenging the newly arrived Avaricians; but just how would his precious Dominique act if she were to learn of the Humilitan’s shield maiden’s treachery? The right side of his lips curled upward in the faintest hint of a smile; while he was not amused in the slightest, it was simply something the king to see. There was nothing wrong about making a royal one had absolutely no allegiance to sweat out of worry.
He could not help but feel a small hint of satisfaction as he witnessed Naedira’s tears stream from her eyes. In his eyes her sorrow was well-deserved for the wrongs she’d done him for no real reason, as well as his mistress; for technically, he was the property of the heiress of Avarice. Casting witchery upon the property of a noble was an offense punishable by death in most nations, though such regulations tended to get sketchy when dealing with other nobles. Unfortunately, it was not always as simple as someone causing mischief when it came to opposing royals; there were many political issues to consider, a subject he was well-versed in thanks to his father.
His eyes followed Naedira as she foolishly ordered the castle servants to find the undertaker, and followed up with a feeble attempt at trying to revive the fallen beast known as Lucien. It was amusing, and if it were not so much so it would have been quite tragic. The fool was dead, he’d made sure of it; the man’s throat had been completely severed by the crossing of Fandral’s blades. There was simply no recovering from that for any being that was not of immortal stock. But if anything, the woman’s actions only served to confirm his suspicions that she indeed was some kind of witch.
He turned his eyes toward Dominique as she commanded his attention. He gave an obedient bow in her direction. ”Of course, ma maîtresse, I would not commit any such action unless you commanded it of me. I remember and will adhere to my vows. As you will it, so mote it be.” He moved his head and brought his lips within hairs from the Avarician heiress’s ear, hiding the lower half of his face behind her fan. His voice came out in a barely audible whisper. ”I suspect the Humilitan of treachery of the mystical sort. I believe her to be casting some sort of illusionary spell on me, implanting false memories- scarlet memories –of herself, of the kind that I would not personally imagine of one I’d never met before. I am not fond of these visions and the intrusion upon my mental facilities, but will not act unless given the order to do so, ma maîtresse. Your word is my law- ma vie.” ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☠ A silent melody, a surface memory,
A sound symphony became a part of me.
A sudden shift between a different frequency,
My hand has spread the sea, it's like there's a god in me.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2011 3:39 pm
Location: Dining Hall- Where is my mind?  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The world did not cease to turn, although if one were to ask the Envian girl, she might have claimed otherwise. Strange…the way the images set before her deconstructed themselves, puzzle piece by puzzle piece drifting away, falling, and proving the picture incomplete; blood and innards becoming naught but vivid, inoffensive colors upon the ground. Evony’s mind whirled to hide what she’d seen originally, the trauma driving her vision to blur itself so that, at least for some time, she’d not be able to properly recall the former heiress’ form, cleaved in two upon the flooring.
The world kept spinning, yes—people were still moving about, speaking, although she could glean only at the basic mechanics to that process. The details, for now, seemed entirely lost. Movement didn’t find the girl, nor her voice; tears did, however, leaking freely from cornflower eyes…although the girl scarcely seemed to notice it, for no sobs emerged to keep them company.
One picture did come in to view, at last; Altonair, at least, made sense to her. He came in a rush to the girl, kneeling down so that their eyes might meet; hers’ almost unseeing, glazed, and his bereft; what was he saying? Gods, she could see his lips moving…though all that left them seemed to her a distant humming sound, complimented with the faintest notes of true syllables; real words, lost beneath the folds of some other, starker noise.
”Altonair…” Her tone; it fell in dulcet waves as always, although their predicament left it laden with myriads of other feelings, their weight upon her bidding it to be softer—broken; idly, the girl lifted a paled and dainty hand to grace her beloved brothers cheek, cupping it with unmistakable affection, ”You look so very distraught…”
”--Do you suppose Prince Lucian would have liked flowers to adorn his grave?” Where had the last statement come from? Why did the words continue to flow, albeit in a tone grown fainter and fainter…”We did not know him well, of course. I recall him from the catacombs, and even think that, perhaps, he didn’t care for me…but it would be fitting to do…something for them, would it not? Though perhaps he’d not like flowers after all, given our trials in that garden…”
Evony’s stare was blank, her vision still edging towards blindness, and it seemed now as if she didn’t even realize she’d spoken at all; her thoughts loosened, mind in complete disconnect. Were he to allow the movement, she continued to stroke her brother’s cheek, but the rest of the girl seemed momentarily lost to the world. How she retained her balance was a mystery; her body continued to move, to touch, to speak…to breath, yet the rest of the floramancer, in that moment, seemed hidden away; lost upon some wayward path, deep within her, holding to its bosom a fading hope of returning to the outside, to the castle, the Dining Hall, and to clarity…
((OOC: really rushed through this post, sorry.))
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2011 4:56 pm
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI might steal your clothesxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand wear them if they fit meKingdom: Veritas/Lust Rank: Peasant/ Gypsy Location: Hallway.╔═════════════════════════════════════♛═════════════════════════════════════╗Tao zoned in and out for the next few moments, finding it hard to concentrate. He was just so damned tired. He prayed that there would be no trouble for a short while, he needed to to rest. His hands naturally skimmed along the blades of his chakram, finding them sharp and cool at his sides. He would have to rely on them if anything was to go down. He had a few tricks up his sleaves with these little beauties that would, naturally, use some of his (barely) stored energy. It would have to do if things came to it.
Naturally, he hoped for it not to come to any fighting. He was simply not fight for battle right now. However, he had fought under worse conditions. He had ran with deeper wounds, and fought for his life when there was little there to fight for. He was a fighter if there ever was one, but he also knew how to fight dirty. There was no honor within the man. He knew that to survive he had to hit low, to use cheap tricks to push the battle within his favor. He was a thief and a gypsy.
His eyes stayed upon his target, John, as he shook his head. "I'd prefer to get out of here. With our luck that witch of a mother would come storming in here to beat down the cook for something or other. I would rather not have to kill royalty for intruding on my feeding time." He smiled slyly, "I'm quite crazed when it comes to interrupting me eating. You should probably note that... and if you could snag something more than simple bread and apples I would appreciate it. I need as much help recovering as possible. Something with herbs maybe?"
He rested against the wall, obviously ignoring the comment about needing one to be able to stand and walk. He simply used it as a crutch, better it than a human. Humans faltered, be they angel or not. They also tended to switch sides quite quickly, stabbing their comrades in the back. Sometimes he wished his mother was correct about his ancestors, that he was of fae descent. It would make it all that easier to feel repulsed by humans.
If only the men weren't so damn enticing...╚═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝☪ OOC ☪ Never made agreements, just like a gypsy And I won't back down because life's already bit me And I won't cry, because I'm too young to die if you're gonna quit me'Cause I'm a gypsy
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2011 5:08 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: Halls > Library. ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ 
Dante was halfway through the book before he looked up and around himself. It had been who knows how long since he had settled himself down. It had been more than that since he had contacted his sister, Lorelei with no response. He was unsure if she had simply ignored him, or maybe she had more pressing matter to attend to... or maybe his powers were slipping...
Regardless of the cause, he sought out his elder sibling's mind and sent another message. Sister? Did you hear me? Oh, by the gods do not tell me I lost this ability... Or art thou sleeping? His speech naturally slipped into that of the book he was reading. It was that of a knight and a kingdom. The book was full of a multitude of stories, all of which taught one lesson or another. He shook his head and closed it, no longer wishing to read what was inside.
He flicked his wrist and the book shot back to where it belonged on the shelves, and set to work finding another book. Dante had read many books within his travels, sometimes for fun and other times to find out more about that which he was hunting. It was true that there were wars going on, but there was also beasts that needed to be slayed. That was Dante's job whilst he was traveling. He went about killing things that needed to be killed. With each he got stronger, honing his skills and powers. With some he got gifts, like the cloak that he currently wore. It was made from a beast he slayed, magickaly enchanted because of the beast. The beast was a shifter and a chameleon, able to blind in with it's environment and shift sizes. The cloak retained some of that power, able to change colours between orange and darkness, whilst changing sizes to fit it's master. Naturally, that made it quite valuable to Dante.
He suddenly felt restless and stopped searching for a new book, instead he left the room and began to walk the halls. He reached for his bow, which was hidden in a sheath on his back. He pulled it out and at first it looked like two strange slices of wood, but upon unfolding them it took form of a bow, and with a small push of wood it locked in place. Dante was quite a brilliant lad, and he invented the thing himself. Naturally, it was made just for him. Using his powers he was able to make a string to allow it to fire arrows, that of which he only had three hidden within the sheath. He decided to go and practice shooting, and made a stop along the way to pick up a quiver of arrows that he had placed. He had multiple quivers hidden about the castle. The castle was so entirely vast that he wanted to make sure that he had a quiver within sprinting distance.
With that quiver now slung over his shoulder he made his way to the training area.
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
♕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 Dec 01, 2011 5:12 pm
♬ Ίτ'ȿ ʟΊӃЄ ɱμȘΊϹ τѺ ɱУ ЄɑɌȘ... ♫ Ҭɑηтяɑ ♪ Kingdom: Humility Rank: Priestess [In Training] Location: Forest >> Castle.
Tantra had stopped by the kitchen to grab herself some bread and berries as she headed to her room. She did not socialize much, mainly because most of the castle hated her for some reason. She moved swiftly, not wanting people to see her with what she was dressed in. It was not normal for a young girl, or any girl, to be dressed in such clothing. She had yet to obtain a new set of clothes, and being as her main dress was drenched in bat dropping she had to use this one. It was just her luck though.
She stopped by one of the closets to drop off her bag before heading to her room. Upon entering her room she flopped on her bed and began to pick at her meal. She was so entirely bored here. Sure, there was tons to do, but honestly she barely knew anyone. She felt like she was back with her High Priestess, bored and almost always alone.
...βʯʈ Ίʈ ȘЄЄɱȘ ѺɳʟУ Ί Ϲɑɳ ΗЄɑɌ...♬ 
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