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 Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2012 7:41 pm
A Knight of Justice, Enjoying Rather Pleasant Company
 Alistair was warmly welcomed when he sat down with Kirios, Maelona, and Millicent. Both Maelona and Millicent did not believe him to be a simple knight, something that his general agreed with. He shrugged it off, he was not one to take compliments so easily. That was the General's job. Though Kirios was quick to add about the number of times he had saved his life. Which was true, Alistair had saved the General almost as many times as Kirios had saved his own. He was one of the first to not look upon him with disdain and contempt for his half-demonic heritage, it was a welcome feeling that he had taken to heart. He would always be sure to be alongside the general in the heat of battle. For if he were to die, he would gladly do so by his side. Alistair responded to his General's remark about his responsibility for getting the two of them into trouble with a hearty chuckle, "General, there were also plenty of times you also got us into some hot water." looking to the women, with a devilish smile "The number of times, it's quite remarkable really." he did not offer up anything about his past, which would likely make the young knight a far more interesting topic of discussion amongst the noblewomen before him. "And so much more humble than myself." he replied, a sly grin painted his features. Millicent remarked about his comment of guarding the nobles boring. He smiled in her direction, his red eyes looking upon her as he spoke again, "Well to be honest, it isn't all that bad. I usually enjoy being around the children the most, they are the most lively amongst those within the different houses." there was also a second reason that he did not add upon this. It was the innocence within them that drew him to them. They did not have sin like their parents or older siblings. He could smell it upon them, each and every one and it wreaked to the highest of heavens. Sure, people like Kirios also smelled of sin, but he did not hide it. He was not a hypocrite like the various nobles around him within the court. They were the ones that always wore too much perfume, to hide their stench, to hide the rot of hypocrisy within their souls. "And something tells me the lands of Justice would not appreciate me taking employment with other kingdoms. But if given the opportunity, I would love the idea of visiting another realm." He did not hate the Nobility of Justice, some were very kind to him and some were not. But he did hate how they tried to hide themselves behind higher philosophies. Perhaps it was the demon in him thinking this, but he was also a human. A human with a king that he loved and greatly respected. Both Millicent and Maelona were different in this regard. Maelona seemed much more different, wanting him to feel as he were himself around her. With a kind smile he offered up these words to her, "As a function of respect to you and your station, I cannot feel any other way. My father and uncle taught me to always treat the royalty with the highest of regard."With the General speaking a desire to tell war stories, Alistair rolled his eyes in a joking manner, "Honestly miladies, feed his ego ever further and his head shall burst from hot air!" he let out a gentle laugh, "And perhaps it is a good thing I am here, I can ground some of his stories with some truth." he knew Kirios would be honest with his tales, it of course did not mean that couldn't have fun with him, Besides, a few more glasses of wine, and who knows what could possibly happen?
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Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2012 7:46 pm
╔═══════════════════════════════╗
Richard Bellerose, Prince of Hubris
Solarium
In The Company Of: Corrine Masterson
╚═══════════════════════════════╝ 
Corrine was doing a good job of playing their game as she dragged a flower across the breadth of his shoulders. Richard was playing the game quite well in return. It was quickly becoming a test to see whose willpower would break first. Or who would just stop caring about the game first. Whichever happened to happen first. Watching her move to sit at the bench nearby it wasn't long before Richard followed. Corrine had moved close to him a moment earlier so now it was his turn to up the ante a little bit. Leaning over to her as if to plant a kiss he stopped inches from her lips and spoke to her as their eyes locked. He mentioned preferring more gentlemanly pursuits and Corrine smiled and said she had no doubts of that.
The small smile that followed her statement was well hidden by their close proximity. The prince proceeded to brush a few strands of unruly hair behind the arch-duchess' ear and she thanked him. Richard then proceed to stand quite abruptly pulling the woman along behind him. As he drew her close into the steps of a dance she seemed amused. As they moved to the sounds of some nonexistent tune Richard turned her question back on her. Corrine laughed as she slid her hand to his neck and answered earnestly. "I have no doubts that the typical wrathian pursuits are far different than most. Dancing? How... womanly of you." His tone was amused as they spoke of her pursuits.
Shortly after Richard spun her in place then proceeded to lean her back towards the floor as he hovered over her closely. The woman seemed to be perfectly at ease with the action as her grip never tightened. Inquiring as to if the woman was enjoying herself she answered before drawing her lips closer. They brushed against his own in the lightest of ways. Eyebrow raised at her choice of words he wondered if perhaps she was giving up. It was disappointing to say the least. Raising back up Richard pulled the wrathian arch duchess along after him. The space between them what would be deemed appropriate for two people not betrothed or otherwise committed to each other.
Face falling into a look boredom his eyes traveled passed her to the flowers they danced amongst. The action was meant to throw the woman off her game as if she had said something profoundly wrong. Hubrisians could easily have their pride offended after all. Granted Richard was different in that regard. If someone offended his pride or sense of honor they would know it. Dancing in silence for a around another minute to give the woman plenty of time to think about her actions Richard finally returned his gaze to her. Pulling the woman close to him so that the clothing between them was all that separated them the man smirked at her. Leaning in as if to kiss her on the lips he moved passed until his mouth as next to her ear.
"So you are already counting yourself as a conquest? How disappointing to know that I have already won. I had hoped that our..." Pausing to lean back and take in the sight of Corrine and so she might do the same he leaned back in to whisper the rest. "Game would continue on a little longer, but if that is what the lady wishes then who am I to deny her the comfort. After all she did say she was in mourning and one can always use comfort while mourning. Perhaps you have had things too easy in the past, however, I daresay that you will not find things so easy. Men of hubris do not so easily fall under the charms of a lady. We princes are especially hard to ensnare. No matter how attractive that lady is."
It was a silent challenge. Moving so that his cheek lightly touched hers for a few moments he pulled back turning his head at the last moment towards hers and letting his lips lightly and teasingly brush against her own. He would not break first of that Richard was determined. After whispering in the woman's ear and pulling back the man made sure that the space between them did not grow larger. It almost seemed as if they had grown even closer if that were possible. The action was clearly his way of simply saying 'your move'.
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Posted: Sat Dec 01, 2012 4:16 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: Destroyed Wing The pity he felt for the siren was not lost on her, though she felt undeserving of the man's unending kindness. In the wake of his brother's death, he had vowed to see her well-being taken care of, had stated without hesitation that he would not be so cruel as to send her away to live in a concubine. Instead of securing his court and protecting those who would reside within the same walls as an unintentional temptress, he sought to ease her plights and worry. For that, Lorelei would ever be thankful. His mercy reminded her much of his late brother – it served as a bittersweet reminder for the young woman. In one way, she knew now that there were others in the realms with gentle hearts; in the other, it stirred recent memories of Haven Greene standing in front of her, acting as a protective wall so that the strong hand of her father could no longer bring her pain. And with that came guilt.
The truth in James' words caused her to relax a little; he considered it an honor as a knight that he should have the ability to care for others. With the valor she'd seen displayed in him a fortnight ago, and his mentality regarding those who would one day be his subjects, Lorelei thought him to be a prime choice as the next king. His heart was open, accepting where the current king's was not. “Mayhaps a wise one.” The princess answered when he asked what type of man he would be if he had left her out in the cold – the irony of her remark quirked her lips just so, promising a hidden smile beneath her carefully masked expression. Though, a mark of truth laced in her words... sirens should not be allowed to run amok in a prosperous court – especially one who had no reigns to her seemingly boundless power. Wars were started over less.
As their conversation continued, she quickly assessed somewhere along her tutelage, she'd missed something rather important. Just what, the fiery haired woman could not be certain... but as he tilted his head thoughtfully she grew more and more perplexed. He too realized that she had missed an explanation somewhere, and he slowly began to paint a key part of Fortitude's political realm for her. Shaking her head, Lorelei murmured that Haven had merely said that they would take care of her. But there had not been the time for much else... now she sorely longed that Haven had had more time.
Things pieced together as he spoke – she was his to take care of, which was likely the reason in her eyes at least, that he was not going to ship her away. That particular promise made much more sense now, and she seemed less awed by his willingness to do so. It wasn't until he fully finished speaking... the brevity of his words did not take quite enough time for her to truly process it all. Her thoughts flew asunder, wild as the winds of a hurricane as she adamantly shook her head. At the forefront of her mind, images of others who had gotten too close to her surfaced, serving as a bitter reminder that they had all ended up miserable or dead. Alexander, Theo, Lucas, Haven...even Sokar had become something less than happy in his human form. None of them had deserved what her siren's curse had wrought upon them.
“We cannot. For your sake, we cannot.” She whispered, panic bringing about a full symphony with her words. A silver tear rained down her cheek as she fell to her knees before him, almost begging for him to be able to retract Fortitude's long standing customs – his intentions to marry her. “Do you not see the curse that lingers with what I am?” Always a what, and not a who. Richard had instilled that to her when she had been very small. Her words were bare of anything but concern for James, the kind heir who needed to not share his brother's destiny; he'd easily be able to infer the sorrow in her tone.
“I've no desire to ruin your life as well.” Her hands curled into fists about her skirts, clutching the fabric as though it would change the outcome of their circumstances. “A shroud of darkness and bad luck surrounds me, my lord. I want it not to engulf you too.” And without Haven's magic, she had no hope to stop what she would become upon being someone's wife in full. Did this man not know the dangers of a carnal affair – let alone a marriage to her would entail? So far, he'd proven immune to her temptress' wiles, but would it last when he got his first taste, and she blossomed into what even the Dark Courts feared? “And it will... just has it has for all the others who've grown too close to me.”
~Ryan,~ Her mind searched for another from the White Kingdoms, an ally who might have a solution to dissolve this traditional Fortitudian betrothal. ~Is there a way to break the customs of Fortitude? I fear for Sir James Greene's life if we were to be married in truth.~ The way she asked would make it blatantly obvious that this tidbit of information had come as a shock to her. Music weaved between their link, transforming her desperation into an aria.
She stared at the ground, focusing on the soot beneath her crumpled skirt for a long time before searching James for answers. Is this what he wanted? Surely not – a hand-me-down wife from a man he'd never known. Instantly her features welled with an apology before she could even find the words. “I'm truly sorry, your Majesty. Please do not think me an ungrateful wench from this news, but I fear for your safety as much as those in your courts when this betrothal comes into fruition.” While he might not know it yet, he was to be wed to a monster.
[[Oddly Oafish Commentary: sorry for the wait. ]] The siren sang so sweet and watched the sailors go down, anyone would drown
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Posted: Sat Dec 01, 2012 5:10 pm
↞ Liam Balin↠ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ Location: Training Grounds  That the boy had naught the slightest clue of what to wear for training garnered no more respect in Liam's eyes. Should something happen to Nathaniel, this man would become their king. How was he to lead the great kingdom of Envy, when he knew so little of what was expected in their military? Would he know where to direct troops in battle, or would he be as lazy as his father, trusting blindly that his General would lead them to victory? His eyelid twitched at the mere thought – he himself would not trust Manuel as far as he could throw him, the snake that he was. If this is where their kingdom was headed, he wasn't certain it would remain worth fighting for.
Not that he'd ever stop, but his faith had wavered considerably where the royal family was concerned – most of it due to his current assignment. Truly, without a title to call his birthright, he'd been fortunate to get where he had, and he'd yet to forget the chance they'd given him. Two centuries ago, his prowess on the field might have been deemed useful, but he never would have ascertained a rank. That had been dismissed in his case, giving him the opportunities he had now – the numerous beads in his hair serving as trophies in that accomplishment.
Yet, successful as he was, the fact that the Wood children had everything handed to them made his stomach churn with their sin. Their lives had been easy, where he'd earned far more than what he thought the lot of them deserved. He'd serve them with the love and devotion that any good knight would show his king, but succumbing to anyone always left a sour taste in his mouth. No matter who it was.
He tossed the boy some armor, which Altonair hurriedly donned – obviously not wanting to upset the icy knight any further. Good. At least, with this attitude, he might be able to teach him something useful. But it wouldn't be until Altonair touched upon a more ruthless part of himself that he would compare to those who would fight for him when he became king. “That set will be yours to keep, as I doubt you brought any with you to this realm. Most probably, you should be fitted for your own at your earliest convenience.”
The beads in his hair clacked against each other with the whipping of the wind, promising that the storm would only become worse as time went on. Cold, unforgiving droplets tore at his skin, but Liam showed no outward sign of being uncomfortable. Odd as it was, this was perhaps the most at home he'd felt since arriving to Veritas' castle -with this dreadful weather paired with being on the training grounds... he was closer to his memories of actually serving his kingdom.
Altonair took the time to show the knight the blades he was most familiar with, and Liam nodded, commanding for the prince to attack him. The boy hesitated, seemingly unsure of whether or not he'd actually be able to lay a hit on him. The would-be General smirked, confident that Altonair would not be able to get so close. The prince thrust forward with the blade in his right hand, but Liam merely rolled out of the way, twisting back to see his opponent just long enough to do a horizontal swing with his hand, making a smooth chopping motion that collided with his ribs with impact enough to be heard over the howling storm.
“When you step forward with a thrust, mind your weaker areas. You left several spots open for attack, and those are prone to miss if you are attacking someone who's looking at you. They see it coming. Had it been a blade instead of my hand, you could easily die from such a blow.” He gave Altonair no time before he crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin. The prince was probably winded, but he hardly cared. “Again, just as you had.” The knight was going to show him each spot that he'd left vulnerable for an attack in much the same fashion as he just had.
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ Too many lost.
Links in a chain passed down through the years,
But ending here, if we just face the pain and the fear...
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Posted: Tue Dec 04, 2012 3:05 am
 ❥┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊ In the Company Of: Liam and Altonair ❥┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊ Located: Training Grounds ❥┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊ Thinking: Glad, you're still here. XXXXXXXXXXXX YOU ARE MY STRENGTH IN THE END, IN THE ENDXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX YOU ARE MY STRENGTH IN THE END, IN THE ENDXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX YOU ARE MY STRENGTH IN THE END, IN THE ENDXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX❥❝ Fighting for no reward--We toss and we turn, words ever burning. ❥!_____________________________ Naedira lay on her designated cot for quite some time, a helpful maid standing guard whilst she attempted to nap. Unsettled by the strange fey woman that had thought it proper to breach her personal space, she felt off-kilter. Sleep simply wouldn’t come no matter how she tried. And so she pulled herself up, and found the emblem she’d begun to craft. Sewing and embroidery was an easy way to pass the time, a skill she’d picked up as a girl in Humility.
Her governess never truly thought it suitable, but allowed her to help mend items as needed. As she grew older it became part of the Shield Maiden’s duty, to embroider the symbol of their house on banners that the knights carried into battle. It was considered an honor, for the men to carry something into battle that their virtuous princess had dutifully poured herself into.
Outside of that…When her mind was whirling and wouldn’t stop, sewing at least gave her fingers something to do. Even if the rest of her felt like she might implode at any moment.
Sliding the needle mindlessly through the swatch of fabric, she paced the length of the shared quarters…Gladdened that everyone seemed to be somewhere else. Pausing by the window she noticed figures moving down in what looked like a training yard. The rain obscured their features from her, for she thought she recognized a familiar dark head.
Glancing furtively at the door, remembering her brother’s firm request that she not practice magic…She figured that one small spell wouldn’t hurt. “Cormamin lindua ele lle…Anta’lle ele…Anta’lle ele...” (My heart sings to see thee—Help me see—Help me see.)
For a brief moment she could see through the rain, and in a flash of clarity the caught sight of Altonair’s face…Just before he was stuck in the midsection. Gasping in surprise her vision snapped back to what it once was as she lost concentration. Dizziness swept through her, enough that she needed to lean against the sill to catch her breath. Watching the figures a moment longer, it became apparent that her Prince was training.
“Miss Kathryn…If it isn’t too much trouble, could retrieve my cloak and parasol?”
The maid didn’t need to be asked twice, despite Naedira’s informal request. She was a royal, and a princess—And therefore needed to be obeyed immediately. She noted with some confusion that the Humilitian woman had remembered her name…What an odd thing for her to do. Most didn’t even remember she was in the room, let alone something as trivial as her name.
Naedira put her needlepoint away and delicately tucked any curls or waves back where they should have been—Trying to avoid seeming like she’d just gotten out of bed. Granted, she’d not changed from the long black gown she wore… But Altonair was still her intended. Rain or shine, she sought to appear as she believed he would expect.
It was always on her mind that she was marrying into the Kingdom of Envy. That was one Kingdom she’d not quite been prepared for…So she did the best she could.
The hand maid returned and helped her with her cloak, seeming twice as skittish as she had before she’d left. It was simple enough, black with respect to the recently dead…A blood red lining underneath to remember the blood that had been spilled. Slipping the hood over her head, the parasol pointed towards the marble floor—She thanked Kathryn for her quickness, and bid her to have a good afternoon.
The Princess of Humility made her way through the castle and eventually towards the training grounds. The rain was light enough that it didn’t bother her, the fresh air revitalizing despite the fog that swirled around her ankles. The grass provided a sufficient barrier between herself and the mud, so she managed to make her way without trouble. This was unfortunately one more thing her brother might disapprove of…Especially after she’d mentioned her run-in with the Avarician Vice Marshal.
Coming to the line where she dared not cross, she remained respectfully outside of the imaginary barrier. The training grounds were no place for her. As a Shield Maiden, she was simply that—A Shield. Not a sword. But she could certainly offer silent support, while her future husband honed his skills and remain on the sidelines.
Keeping quiet so as not to serve as a distraction, she merely waited with her parasol over shoulder—The darkly decorated object providing shielding from the elements.
Watching the two men work however…She slowly got the feeling that her magical talents would be needed. She’d only met the knight that the Prince was with once, in passing. Liam didn’t seem to be giving Altonair any quarter…Though did he not guard Nathaniel? Naedira wasn’t terribly sure…But she was gladdened to see the younger Prince of Envy still in Veritas’ realm. She’d been hearing rumors that the Woods were returning to Envy…
She’d feared all morning that he might depart with his siblings, without a word.
_____________________________ [OOC: Let me know if anything needs changed.]
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Posted: Fri Dec 07, 2012 10:46 pm
 XXXXXXXXXX◊▐░░░░Ƞame: Altonair Wood XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX◊▐░░░░Ƚocation: Training Grounds XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX◊▐░░░░Ⱦitle: Prince [Heir] XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX◊▐░░░░Ίn the Company of: Liam, with Naedira joining shortly after XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX◊▐░░░░Ⱦhinking: No pain, no gain, I suppose... ♢━━━━━━♢━━━━━━♢
The new heir shivered in the relentless rain as he accustomed himself to his new set of armor, likely one of the few gifts Liam would ever bestow upon him. Being treated unlike a royal was something Altonair wasn't used to, as he grew up with the formality of the courts and rehearsed elegance of a blueblood. Sure, he was a prince of a nation of warriors and unparalleled might, but the thought of being a great warrior himself never sunk into his mind. He never had to: Nathaniel was rightly the next in line to the throne, and his children would take the spot of heir. Now that their father's illness accelerated the passing of the throne before Nathaniel could marry and have heirs, Altonair was placed in the very precarious position of the heir of Envy. He was now expected to hold the skills and mindset of an heir: powerful, confident, and a leader. The prince was barely held one of these qualities, but one would find that hard to believe currently.
Somehow, Liam's negligence to treat Altonair as a prince intimidated him. Gone was the suave demeanor he usually held, the art of rhetoric he commanded, or the silver tongue his betrothed, Naedira, had found herself the subject of. What stood before Liam was just a shivering elf with nary a warrior's soul, moments away from, literally, having some skill beat into him.
And when Liam bade him to attack, Altonair knew he was outmatched. Still, he had to try.
He lunged forward, his right hand thrust horribly amateur and easily punishable by a skilled fighter; something Liam most certainly was. The heir hardly had time to react as the knight’s chop to his ribs, his side exploding in pain as the sound reverberated in the rain. The wind knocked out of him, the prince let out sputtered coughs, finding difficulty in breathing as if he had forgotten how to. A few gasps, followed by another cough, then he stumbled onto the ground. Liam’s advice to the fallen prince was hardly one of his priorities at the moment, but he tried his best to take in the information as he tried to lift himself back onto his feet. It was surprisingly difficult to lift oneself up with the wind robbed from your lungs.
He considered the advice for a moment, thinking how best one could cover his exposed areas as he attacked. Surely that meant blocked with the arm he wasn’t using to strike. But would that not give his thrust less power? Perhaps it was the way he struck that needed work: how fast he struck, or the motion he used to strike. Or maybe he simply needed to keep his own exposed areas in mind as he attacked, and anticipate a counter attack to those areas. In that case, it was simply a matter of reaction and how he reacted that would decide how and if the counter attack was blocked.
Of course, these ideas were worthless if his body could not keep up with a trained warrior’s motions.
Liam beckoned him to attack again, and Altonair nearly collapsed again at the words. Really?! Not even a moment to recollect myself? The Prince would not dare utter those words at the knight, lest the possibility of a fiercer lesson in retaliation. Still, he was not in a position to be bargaining with Liam.
Back on his feet (though still slightly winded), Altonair exhaled sharply as he readied himself again. This time, Altonair studied Liam’s own stance. Perhaps, rather than a stabbing motion…a slice? It would allow him to better defend himself, and he wouldn’t need to put his entire weight behind the motion, especially since the prince did not intend to kill the knight. Yes. A slash across the torso might work.
The prince brought his left arm in front of his torso, placing it slightly behind and below his right arm, which was ready to strike. But out of the corner of his eye, the prince caught the sight of a familiar silhouette, hooded and under the cover of a parasol. His eyes turned to the figure, to confirm if it was who he thought it was. Indeed, his betrothed, Naedira of Humility, stood just outside the training area, observing Liam and himself. The prince’s eyes widened at the sight of her, surprised to see her here of all places.
“Naedira?” he said under his breath, his stance dropping slightly and his expression softening. He nearly turned his head completely to her before remembering where he was. His eyes shut for a moment, before opening them back to Liam. Then, he moved.
Again, it was probably still a bit novice, but the steps towards the knight were now steady rather the rushed like before. His right arm, his offense, sliced horizontally while his left arm remained in front of his torso in anticipation of a counter. It was a weaker attack (especially since Naedira's presence surprised him) that would likely have a very small chance to hit a trained opponent, but it was much more defensive than his previous stabbing lunge.
And the prince was not about to let himself be struck in the ribs again. Not in front of Naedira. Hopefully. Though, realistically, his opponent was Liam: He still didn’t stand a chance.
♢━━━━━━♢━━━━━━♢
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Posted: Sat Dec 08, 2012 12:26 am
♕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: Library ~> Kitchen ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ 
Dante looked up from his meal as he was spoken to, or maybe at was the better word when it came to the strange jester. He cocked his head to the side and looked past him to the young woman the jester was pestering only moments prior.
A soft shrug rolled his shoulders, "Wine comes in many flavors, almost as many as the colours in the world." He held his glass out, "You can try some if you'd like. It's not all that strong, it would take a lot more than a glass of this to get you intoxicated." His eyes found the jester again, who was still talking regardless of the fact that no one seemed to be listening.
"May I inquire as to who you are, and what band of minstrels you come from?" He was sure the man had to be with some strange group that came to amuse the royals, although he thought they had all been whisked away by the old god. "Also, you may want to be careful who you talk to like that. Some of the royals here don't like to be talked to unless they address you first, anything less than that and they will be demanding your head on their platter, and I'd hate to ruin any of this fine ware."
A smile crept upon his lips as he spoke to the jester, hoping to rise a smile out of the woman he was annoying prior. "My name is Dante, by the way. Gavini, of Lust."
((OOC: So sorry, didn't realize anyone was interacting with me! My skype is teajaygasm if you ever need to reach me!! I am very forgetful, and I've been increasingly ill lately so I have a habbit of not realizing a month (or three) has passed! Just shoot me a line on there, or tell bun to yell at me!!))
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
♕Ɍҽѵȯɭʮϯɪȯɳɑʀɪҽʂ ωɑɪϯ♛ ♔Ӻȯʀ Ӎӌ Ӊҽɑɖ Ȱɳ Ȁ șɪɭѵҽʀ Ρɭɑϯҽ♚
♘Ɉʮʂϯ Ȁ Ρʮϼϼҽϯ Ȱɳ Ȁ ζȯɳҽɭӌ șϯʀɪɳɠ♞ ♗Ȱɧ ωɧȯ ωȯʮɭɖ Ȩѵҽʀ ωɑɳϯ Ҭȯ Ƀҽ Ӄɪɳɠ?♝
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Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2012 1:38 am
Amarenth Soren Hyuga Kingdom: Envy
Rank: Knight
Location: Kitchen with Claus and Dante Gavini Cross through the night
I looked down and lost my way
my light (()) Soren noticed that the jester(Claus) had turned his sights on the male(Dante) nearby. She blinked as he too commented on the earliness of the wine. However, the jester soon went on a major tangent. His words became incoherent to her ears. Either the jester was talking insanely fast, or she was simply tuning him out. She wouldn’t be surprised by either scenario. But, since the jester wasn’t bothering her, Soren said nothing about his talking as the male addressed her. She hadn’t ever thought of thinking of wine in such a way. However, with wine having such variety of flavors, the knight figured that the analogy was actually quite fitting. “I admit I have never thought of comparing the varieties of wine to the varieties of colors. But, I suppose that means you are the more imaginative between the two of us.”
She hadn’t expected for the male(Dante) to offer her to taste the wine. While faint part of her felt guarded, she wasn’t about to let such a gift pass her by. Thus, she walked towards the bottle of wine. “I thank you for the offer, and the forewarning. For I do not aim to become intoxicated first thing in the morning.” She poured herself a half-glass of wine. After all, Soren knew that she shouldn’t push her luck. Let alone make herself appear like someone that took too much advantage of others. Thus, Soren took the glass and looked down at the liquid. She swirled the liquid around a bit before finally taking a sip of the wine. The smell and the taste of the wine suggested that this wine was actually quite decent. She might even call the wine good.
However, before Soren could comment on the male’s(Dante’s) taste in wine, she noticed the male was actually giving attention to the jester(Claus). She hadn’t realized that the jester was still even talking. Though, she supposed her attention was on better things, and she wouldn’t regret admitting either. As she took another swig of the wine, Soren listened to the words the male(Dante) had to say. When he started to go into how some royals would have loved to place the jester’s(Claus) head on a platter with the way the jester acted, Soren couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Though, the wine, as well as her own precaution, made her not go as far as to actually laugh. Even if she did find the truthfulness of those words more amusing than she likely should have.
The knight placed her glass down as the male introduced himself as Dante Gavini of Lust. From what she remembered, Gavini was the last name of the Royal family of Lust. She didn’t think Envy had any issues with that particular Sinful kingdom. Thus, Soren felt it safe to return an introduction of her own. “I am but a simple Knight of Envy. But, for name’s sake, you may call me Soren.” Since Dante appeared to treat her and the jester(Claus) like they were even remotely equal, Soren would do the same for now. She took another swig of the wine before remembering the food she had fixed for herself. She went back to grab her food as she looked towards the jester. She held back a shrug as she had a feeling she was about to regret her next move.
“So what’s your name, Jester? Unless you do not have one?” She lightly teased the jester(Claus), for the jester seemed to be one that wasn’t serious. Thus, it only made sense to play somewhat at his own game. Though, even she had to admit she could never be as…joking as the jester. He seemed to be on a whole another level when it came to talking and twisting words to for the sake of humor. She wondered if that talent had been gained from experience, or if he was simply talented. She had a feeling the jester might never shut up though if she suggested the latter. At least, if his previous ranting had been any indication. Thus, for her own sanity, Soren kept her mouth shut as she enjoyed the wine and food. Brought to my knees
Though the darkness surrounds
it pull me down,
I do not sink beneath
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 7:56 am
 Corrine Brooke Masterson Arch Duchess of Wrath ✩ Location: Veritas' Castle - Solarium ✩ Pawn. ✩ Entertaining: Richard Bellerose  They were playing a game, that's all it was. Every movement, every word was carefully thought out and planned as they weaved their way around one another. For Corrine's part, it was all about finding a weakness, something she could use to break his willpower down first. Men were more complicated than many liked to give them credit for, and she had to admit that he had her more intrigued than anything else. Any other man, having a woman be so forward with him as she had become would likely have broken by now. But Richard was standing firm, continuing to charm and suggest.
They moved closer to each other, then further, then ever closer, in a repeating cycle that had to come to a close eventually. There was only so much two humans could do in terms of physical proximity. One of them was going to have to close the distance first, it was inevitable. The topic turned to their individual pursuits, Corrine jesting that her idea of enjoyable activities was likely quite different from the noble ladies of Hubris. He pulled her to her feet, Corrine's body not resisting, as they stepped into a light dance, each step seeming to draw her closer to him. He was very good. He seemed to make fun of her for her admittance that she was interesting in taking up dancing, the Arch Duchess returning the tone of his voice with a mischievous grin.
"Well, what kind of woman would I be if I didn't have a few womanly vices. Besides, dancing is more difficult than one would think, my Lord. After all, it's all about finding the right partner to share your embrace, feeling and anticipating their movements - trust and attractions are paramount," she explained as they moved, her body simply reacting to every slight movement he made with a complimentary one as if she'd been doing this for a lifetime. They spun in place, her body lowering to the floor as Richard dipped her, like it were the most natural thing in the world.
Bringing her lips closer to his as she answered his inquiry, the Prince returning them both to their feet and putting a bit more distance between them now, continuing to dance to silent music for another moment. He suddenly looked bored, the Arch Duchess allowing the moment to pass until she finally felt his gaze fall on her once more. Something in what she had said clearly upset him, though she wasn't sure exactly what. Perhaps she had misjudged his intentions or he was not so easy to charm as she had thought. Either way, he leaned in to kiss her again, passing her painted lips to whisper in her ear.
His words confirmed her feelings, expressing disappointment at her apparent weakness to continue their little dance. He claimed that he would not be so easy as her former exploits, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. There was heat rising in her cheeks, no doubt he would feel it when his cheek touched hers, no matter how light the touch - she wasn't used to being the one ensnared by another's charms. It almost shocked her when he moved his lips to hers again, as if challenging her to make the next move. She didn't pull back, green eyes searching his for a moment with an exhaled laugh.
"You intrigue me," she whispered, her fingers grazing the back of his neck. "Most men detest this game and want to move straight into my bedchamber. But you enjoy it. The mystery of flirting with a stranger. The fun of keeping a secret and the danger of its revelation. It's intoxicating." Her grin widened, body pressing against him as her hand slipped from his back to caress his cheek.
"I'm not out to ensnare you, my Lord, I can assure you of that. I belong as a soldier on the battlefields of Wrath, not a housewife of any castle. I'm not out for love, or courtship, or wealth. I won't be some sniveling girl, begging for your favor or longing for your visits to my room in the dead of night. I won't inquire as to your other activities around the castle, just as I won't share any of mine. But I'll give you something to chase. Something you will catch, if you want to. And an excellent reward, provided we have a mutual understanding."
Her hand on his cheek drew his face towards her, the distance between their lips closing in a deep kiss. It lingered just a moment, the Arch Duchess enjoying the taste and touch of him. Then, as suddenly as it had started, her body tore away from him, a rustle of black and silver skirts as she turned in one fluid motion. If it was a chase he wanted, she would be happy to oblige, so long as their understanding of the situation was clear.
"Let the games begin," she said simply, casting him a smoldering gaze over her shoulder as she walked towards the entrance they had come through. ((Oodles Of Carrots: None ))
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Posted: Wed Dec 19, 2012 12:04 am
  
Ladies and Gentlemen.... Claus Revelle
Royal Jester of Veritas Where am I?: Kitchen ~*~ Who am I entertaining?: Dante, Ella, Soren,
....Boys and Girls  Even in if wasn't in his intentions, trouble usually followed in the jester's antics. If he wasn't mocking the royals or playing a dangerous game questioning with Veritas, Claus would find a way to grate the nerves of anyone he interacted with, intentional or not. Luckily (or not), this was one of his better (or perhaps worse?) days, and the young royal he rambled to didn't seem to take serious offense. In fact, he took it in rather well as he also spoke to the female knight preparing her meal in the kitchen.
The jester ceased his random ramblings when the young male royal addressed him. "-so I said to that old fart-- come again? Minstrels? Me?" the jester asked the royal, pleasantly surprised at the notion. He snorted loudly, then slapped his knee in an overtly dramatized fashion. "My dear boy, those days have passed me by so far, it's as if they never happened! I am employed by the old God-fart, Veritas!"
The young royal also offered a friendly warning to the jester, advising him to watch his words among the other royals. A fair, but otherwise fruitless caution; Claus knew better than to behave himself in this castle. In his opinion, he treated the guests the same way Veritas treated them. Whether or not that was the right was was another matter altogether.
After the young prince introduced himself as Dante Gavini of Lust, the prince bowed to the royal, again exaggerated. "Ah, a Lustian! A Gavini! Your line was always a bit more enjoyable than the average royal, that much I'll say! A pleasure for me, as much as it is a pleasure to you!"
The lady knight making her meal also introduced herself as Soren, a simple knight of Envy. To this, Claus feigned a shiver of fear. "Brrr! Envy, you say? A kingdom of a mighty army, outdoing many of their Sinful Brethren. I haven't had the...pleasure, of meeting any Envians in a civilized setting."
the jester's mock tone of terror was perhaps not the most friendliest of greetings to the knight, but it would have to be something Dame Soren would need to adjust to. Claus simply didn't care much for the feelings of others; not when it came to his job.
The knight amusingly inquired his name, taking on a joking tone of her own. As a jester, Claus could very well have heavily critiqued Soren's use of humor in the incorrect way (in his opinion), but eschewed it in favor of maintaining the flow of conversation. It was also an excuse for the jester to show off again.
Claus spun in place, pointing his thumbs to his mask. "Me? A knight inquires a jester for a name? I know a joke that starts like that!" he said, turning to Dante.He covered his face from Soren, as if whispering something in secret to the royal. "In both these cases, it isn't very funny..." he said, in a volume that wasn't so secretive and likely (and purposely) to be heard by Soren.
He turned back Soren, then removed his mask and bowed to her. Again, his invisible face was the reason for this motion, as it was most likely the most striking thing the knight would see of Claus. "I am Claus Revelle, Royal Court Jester of Veritas, Ageless Being from Another Time, and Entertainer Extraordinaire! Hold your applause until the end of the show, please! Thank you!" he announced a little too loudly, temporarily phasing into his entertainment duties.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 7:36 am
❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ xxxxxLet me take the fall. Let me take the blame. xxxxxxxxxxxxxLet me carry you from hell to home again. xxxxx━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀ Let me be your armour. Let me be your shield.
Let me take away the pain you feel. (Your armour.)  Let me be the light that guides your way through darkest night.
Let me be your armour. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀
Let me walk for you when your legs are weak.xxxxx
Let me find the words for you when you can't speak.xxxxxxx
❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━xxxxx
Fandral Vincent Wolfram xx Avarice xx Vice Marshal / Conduit xx Courtyard xxx  Fandral's smirk never left his lips as the heiress responded to his remark, acting as if she were offended by the notion, though he knew otherwise. "I implied no such thing, ma maitresse," Oh, how she amused Fandral from time to time. Women were infamous for drawing conclusions seemingly from nowhere, or taking certain words the wrong way. Perfect as she was in his eyes, Dominique was no exception to the rule. "C'est ma vie pour vous servir*. What good would I be as your servant were I to allow you to do such small, trivial things when I can do them for you?" Charm was no difficult thing for the assassin to pull off; as he'd learned early on in his career, taking on disguises meant far more than a change of appearance. To truly disguise oneself, one had to be able to adopt an unfamiliar manner to their own. One had to alter the way they spoke, the way they moved their arms, their fingers, the way they walked, nervous habits, even down to the way they breathed. A single misstep in a disguise could lead to one's own demise, so it was a skill he had to master. Being a skilled artist in the arena of disguises meant one had to be a flawless liar, one that made most thespians appear as children playing with sticks as swords.
There was an old adage that his blade brother, Richard(or as he liked to call him, since his real name was virtually unpronounceable by human tongues), had passed onto him: If a man could be lied to, he could be killed. No one was a better killer, or liar, than Fandral.
He knew full well just how soul-grinding being apart from home was, and he wanted to offer some kind of comforting words, but it was not long before they were interrupted by the sight of a bumbling idiot who, by Dominique's words, he presumed to be one of the damned kind. The heiress pointed out the man's missteps with all the kindness and pleasantness of a volcanic eruption, which brought no small amount of amusement to the assassin. He went on to offer the heiress to slay the creature without hesitation, attention turned directly to his mistress as if the knight were not even in the same continent as him. He did not miss how she seemed to actually contemplate upon his offer, before the knight then turned away to leave. From the corner of his eye he could see the man place his hand on his sword's hilt, and Fandral did the same with his own weapon. Any way one cared to look at the situation, Fandral's dagger had a significantly faster draw, and he certainly had the maneuverability and speed to shove it into the man's throat before he could even have half the sword's blade exposed. "Thing will do," he said, voice ice cold and cruel as it ever was to anyone but Dominique. "Sin is simply a word created by the pious to attempt to raise themselves higher when in reality they are all very much as lacking in morality as I am. But I do find amusement in just how many of the nether kind say the exact same words shortly before their demise. I suppose all primitive creatures must think in the same way."
The hint of a smirk appeared on his lips as the man left. "La manière qu'il parle suggère qu'il soit de Justice**," he whispered, though he knew she most likely knew it already. "The way he grabs his sword suggests he is experienced in its use, and his walk suggests military discipline, much as his manner directly contradicts any notion of intelligence. I am led to the conclusion that he is a soldier from Justice, perhaps one of your friend's guards?" Naturally, he referenced the heir from Justice. "If you want me to slay him, I can quite easily do so without any evidence leading back to us. I could even make it seem as if one of our enemies did it, simply name a kingdom. He has insulted you, threatened you; he must pay."
He quieted when the duke, Alphonse, entered into their presence, almost fading into the background as he leaned against his pillar. He bowed his head forward to allow his hood to conceal more of his face as the heiress spoke to the duke. While he appeared to be in his own little world, he did listen in on their conversation. Dominique asked Alphonse about his father and about the nature of the curse he had placed upon him, finally suggesting that perhaps it was his time to die, should that end the curse. Naturally, that suited the assassin just fine should that be the course of action, and he would gladly be the one to do the deed should he be asked to. At this point, he would kill anyone. His blades thirst for blood, and it had not been quenched in quite some time. He feared they would rust without feeling the blood of one of his marks if such a pace were to continue. He could not stand so much time without killing someone, not just because he enjoyed it, but because above almost everything he feared losing his ability with all. Assassinations kept him on his toes, it kept his physical abilities strong, and kept him from going complacent.
Then there was the much smaller factor of him actually enjoying the feeling of his blades visiting flesh and releasing life, but such was secondary.
Alphonse explained that the Humilitan heir accepted Dominique's offer to meet with him and tend to the business her father laid out for her to do with the children from the humble kingdom. Were it up to him they would simply be slaughtered, especially that whore that decided his mind would be an enjoyable little toy to play with, but such was not his call to make. He would do as his mistress asked of him and nothing more. The last time he deviated from her orders, he fell into deep trouble; that would never happen again, ever. "I promise you, ma maitresse, my blade will be the one that ends the dog's life," he said with a voice that only thinly veiled all the fury of a tempest as she mentioned the former general. His survival was more than personal for the assassin. Not only had he attempted to murder the one person that was more dear to him than any other, but he had the gall to go on living after facing Fandral. He did not care how powerful the creature was, anyone who came up against him was supposed to die; it was simply a fact of life. Never before had anyone escaped Fandral with their life, and this first mistake would have to be corrected. He insulted Fandral merely by still existing, and the assassin did not take insult well, not from people who were supposed to be dead.
Dominique spoke again, stating that he would accompany her for her conversation with the man. The notion brought a devilish smirk to his lips as he nodded in acknowledgement. It would certainly be amusing to see the child from Humility's reaction. No doubt by now Naedira had told all those of her ilk of her meeting with the assassin. He too had considered just how the fires had destroyed the abbey not very long at all after he left and just how such an occurrence might appear. Naturally, he was innocent in this regard, but for the sake of appearances he would keep up the illusion. "If it is an illusion you wish me to encourage, ma maitresse, I will gladly do so. If you'll accept my advice, I see no reason to correct their poor assumptions." She continued after accepting Alphonse's offer of a magic ward, which made Fandral somewhat apprehensive but not enough to act on his instinct; Fandral was always rather mistrustful of magic in general. "And if the child of Humility is not willing to listen to reason, maitresse?" He almost prayed she'd allow him to kill them all. *It is my life to serve you
**The manner that he speaks suggests that he is of Justice❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀
Let me take the blows that were meant for you.
Let me help you with the trials you're going through.
Let me keep you safe from the world outside.
Let me wipe away the tears that fill your eyes.
Let me keep you from experience you need.
Let me bind you with my selfishness and greed.
Let me stifle you. Let me have control.
Let me smother every aspect of your soul.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 11:32 am
╔═════════════════════════════╗
Location - Courtyard
╚═════════════════════════════╝
Alphonse greeted Dominique and as expected she mostly brushed off the greeting with a wave of her hand. Moving along quickly it seemed she desired an inquiry into any attempts her mother might have made to cast Bale out of him and into the fiery pits. As he explained the man watched as the princess moved along fluidly from one motion to the next. The question about his father caught him momentarily off guard, but it wasn't difficult to see where she was going with the question. "At one time I did, but that was long ago." Before the man had saw fit to kill and bind a demon to his son. Now Alphonse cared about as much for his father as he did the demons that had ravaged Avarice.
Dominique made the suggestion that perhaps it was time his father met with an untimely end and it was clear the situation with which the demon was bond to him needed to be explained a little. "Were it that I could do so princess I would. Unfortunately, after binding the demon to my life force I momentarily passed into the spirit world. His next spell brought me back to this plane, but at the cost of his own life. That is what has made the search for a way out of this difficult. Were he still alive I could simply make him tell me how to break the spell. However, clearly that is no longer an option. I apologize." Why exactly he was apologizing he was unsure, but it seemed to him that his failures required an apology. Especially when the failures were as grand as they were.
As Alphonse mentioned informing Bale of the woman's words if she liked her retort was enough that he had to suppress the urge to wince. It had not been his intention to insult her or anything of the sort if he had. "Of course I apologize for my rudeness princess. It has been some time since I have been in the presence of royalty such as yourself. My manners seem to be lacking." Because obviously it wasn't Dominique's fault. Explaining his encounter with the Humilitian royals the woman was pleased for the first time. As she verbally spoke of the good news, the duke took a standing bow. At least he had done one thing right.
Listening quietly to the heiress as she spoke of accomplishing her father's tasks, Alphonse thought of the werewolf the moment Dominique mentioned it. That the duke could have been so blind to the beast's intentions was a great failure. His only comfort being that the man had obviously at least temporarily pulled a fast one on more than just him. Fandral mentioned his intention to end the beast's life and the duke nodded in agreement. Granted if given the chance Alphonse would do the same. Next time he would make sure escape wasn't an option. Though in a one on one battle he wasn't sure how much of a chance he stood. His magic was very powerful, so after a few moments thought he concluded the odds were likely in his favor. That was barring unforeseen complications of course. No verbal comments were added from the duke, however, on the topic of the beast. Thankfully Dominique didn't think him in league with the lycanthrope.
At the mention of accompanying the heiress to her meeting with Humility, he nodded his head. What he could possibly add to that conversation Alphonse was completely unsure. It seemed Fandral had his purpose of being present. The teasing smile that followed Dominique's words reminded the duke of the time they had spent as a child. It was an extremely pleasant smile to be sure. Fandral's reply brought a glance from the duke. The assassin was obviously very dedicated to the heiress and that was something he could appreciate. The man couldn't see why there was ever any doubt from Dominique about him, but then again Alphonse had never brought up the question. It wasn't his place to debate about the Grand Duchess and her Vice Marshal. "As you wish." There was no need to verbally mention his doubts to the value of his presence, but he supposed he could provide additional protection if nothing else.
Offering to erect a ward against the rain for the woman, she paused to consider his offer. Then, not long after nodded her head to accept his offer. Closing his eyes and focusing on the woman he whispered a few words, before opening them and looking at Dominique. Speaking a few more phrases under his breath the effect would be obvious. The drizzle no long fell on the princess it simply fell around her. The duke had also included a spell to dry the woman's clothes so it might feel as if they had been left out in the sun a little too long. That way the cold didn't continue to affect the woman. After finishing Alphonse simply nodded to show he was done. It wasn't like the woman would need him to tell her either way.
Falling silent and listening as Dominique spoke of the king of humility. Alphonse too had heard many a story about the prowess of the man from the lips of various people. It was a popular topic in some circles. The chesire grin that Dominique gave them was noticed, but not commented on. Clearly she was very pleased. He just hoped the meeting with humility went as well as she hoped.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 12:06 pm
Location: The Library
|631|
In The Company Of: No one |I am the son and heir|
|Of nothing in particular|
Ryan watched Ashlynn leave shortly after his sister and the moment the woman was gone let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He too hoped that perhaps eventually the woman could be considered an ally, but clearly her manners needed some major work. A friendship with a woman without manners could hurt them more in the long run than it helped. The silence being alone afforded him drew his thoughts to Naedira. What she had told him was still very troubling for him. Part of him wanted to get up and find her, but in the end he decided they could both probably use a little alone time to think.
Not long after the familiar beautiful melody that was Lorelei's voice invaded Ryan's mind. Listening to the question posed the heir wondered exactly why the princess was asking such a question. When she next spoke he understood why she was asking unfortunately he didn't really have any answers. 'Unfortunately I do not know of any milady. While I am well versed in the kingdom because of our alliance, I am afraid my knowledge on this subject is lacking. I can offer to help keep an eye on him for you, however, and if you desire I can help you research ways in the library. Just make sure this is what you want milady.' It made Ryan feel bad to not have the answers she was looking for, but it couldn't be helped it seemed. 'When Naedira has had some much needed rest and is up for it I can also see if she minds erecting a few wards to help keep him safe?' It seemed a small thing, but it was the most Ryan could do given the circumstances.
The situation of Dominique was thought on next and for what seemed like several hours were spent thinking on the upcoming meeting. The sooner the better, but perhaps he should get some sleep first. Silent deliberation was given and doing the meeting soon was decided on. If he waited Naedira might want to be present and that was something the heir didn't want. Retrieving a bottle of ink, writing quill, and piece of parchment the man set out writing up a quick and to the point message. After he finished and sealed the parchment up in an envelope the heir stood up. Walking to the door, Ryan stuck his head out until a passing servant came through the heir stopped him. "Sir I need you to deliver a message for me if you don't mind?"
The servant stopped and after seeing who it was nodded with wide eyes and bowed. Handing him the letter Ryan explained who it was for. "I need you to deliver this to Dominique of Avarice. Sometime very soon. I also will require you to retrieve me several jugs full of water. I would say around ten or so. Get the help of the other servants so as to not run yourself ragged." Nothing more was said before the man ran off to find the woman in question. Watching him walk off, Ryan reentered the library and took his former seat. The letter was simple. It stated that Ryan would meet the woman anytime within the hour in the library. It also stated for her to come alone, but that Ryan very much doubted would happen. The jugs of water were to be his form of defense should an attack occur. It wasn't long before the jugs were brought in by several servants and positioned around the room so the presence of them was not obvious and was also strategic.
Now all he had to do was wait patiently for the heiress of avarice to appear.
(OOC: Nothing special >.>)
|I am human and I need to be loved|
|Just like everybody else does|
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Posted: Sun Dec 23, 2012 8:20 am
♕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: Library ~> Kitchen ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
Dante shrugged at the knight's words. "It's always interesting to see variety, be it in wine or in food, or even in poetry." He took another sip of wine before speaking. "Plus, not like there is much else to do around here. I spend most of my time in the library, taking advantage of our host's massive collection of books. It's rare to find books like the ones he has within his collection, so I might as well learn all that I can... Plus, he has a knack for surprise events with monsters of his own making. Figure reading up on this and that will give me a bit of a head start if he should put us up against beasts long forgotten."
As for the Jester he could only raise a brow, this man was entirely strange and seemed to think of life as a game. "Jesters, bards, gypsies. Blast it all, hard enough to tell the lot of you apart. Same jobs with different descriptions, if you ask me. One sings for entertainment, one acts, one... Well, let's just leave that to the imagination, shall we?"
Dante allowed the knight to take the bottle, he could easily replace it if needed. Wine wasn't his favorite drink, but he had grown accustomed to it since his transformation. He had enjoyed trying different wines out as often as possible. This one had been his favorite thus far, it tingled in just the right place.
"It is a pleasure to meet you both." He declined his head enough to show courtesy and to show that he meant his words. It was not of his rank to bow or curtsy, and usually those of royal means would not show any outward signs to even acknowledge those of lesser rank. He thought it was rude to not at least bow your head or something of the same.
"How is your employer, by the way Jester?" He had not heard anything of or from the God in some time, which was strange. Usually the god got bored and was attempting to torture someone. It left a strange form of fear within him, either the god was up to something or he was plotting something fierce.
((OOC: So sorry, didn't realize anyone was interacting with me! My skype is teajaygasm if you ever need to reach me!! I am very forgetful, and I've been increasingly ill lately so I have a habbit of not realizing a month (or three) has passed! Just shoot me a line on there, or tell bun to yell at me!!))
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
♕Ɍҽѵȯɭʮϯɪȯɳɑʀɪҽʂ ωɑɪϯ♛ ♔Ӻȯʀ Ӎӌ Ӊҽɑɖ Ȱɳ Ȁ șɪɭѵҽʀ Ρɭɑϯҽ♚
♘Ɉʮʂϯ Ȁ Ρʮϼϼҽϯ Ȱɳ Ȁ ζȯɳҽɭӌ șϯʀɪɳɠ♞ ♗Ȱɧ ωɧȯ ωȯʮɭɖ Ȩѵҽʀ ωɑɳϯ Ҭȯ Ƀҽ Ӄɪɳɠ?♝
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Sing This Corrosion To Me
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Posted: Mon Dec 24, 2012 9:51 am
They come in lines to welcome you. They're shining through... Babylon...
And the sights will pierce your eyes, Babylon...
With nightmares on both sides, Babylon... Petruccio Giuseppe della Rovere xx Housecarl of Lust xx Garden  The housecarl nodded as the stranger stated that his presence did not disturb her, and that she was simply admiring nature. "My mother tends to a similarly beautiful garden where I come from," he said plainly, voice utterly dispassionate as always, in sharp contrast to the dreadful screaming in the darkest reaches of his mind. "I suppose this one simply reminds me of home. It relaxes a stressed mind to find oneself in familiar territory, and I do miss home." He sighed, suggesting some hint of melancholy, but his voice and expression gave no such suggestion. The woman than asked him about the expression he'd used, initially perplexed by the question, but he bowed his head slightly. "Forgive me for being presumptuous. Nobildonna is simply an expression used in my land to refer to ladies of high status. I assumed you were as such. Am I incorrect in my hypothesis?" He'd not meant to offend, but the woman did not appear to dress as one of the commoners, so he'd assumed she had some noble status, though she looked completely unfamiliar to him.
He raised his right brow slightly, the only the only hint of emotion his face would show, when the woman asked for assistance from the housecarl. "Hmm?" he asked simply. It seemed rather odd that someone would ask the assistance of a complete stranger in this castle, especially considering the fact that he was not dressed as a servant and all the political turmoil that had been playing out amongst the royal children throughout the past few weeks. There were still many open scars left from the attack from the assassins, some physical, though most more emotional and even more harmful as such. Perhaps she was not around at the time to be able to consider such things and so it'd never crossed her mind? He nodded his head as she continued speaking, unsure of how to respond. His kingdom was considered a black one, while hers was a white one; was such a friendship possible? He supposed the purpose of this castle was to find out if such a thing could, or should, happen. But more importantly, would the royals he served consider it? It would have to be something he brings up to them at some point in the near future. "It is not my place to say, I am afraid," he stated. "I am but a housecarl to the royal court of Lust. I cannot make such decisions, but I see no reason for us to be enemies." He bowed his head slightly. "I am Petruccio Giuseppe della Rovere. As I said before, I am housecarl to the Lustian royal court. At best I can bring your request to the attention of the royal children."
It was not at all very long until the two were joined by another of the castle's denizens. The woman was a dark haired beauty that he vaguely found familiar, but could not place where he knew her face from. He nodded pleasantly at the woman as she greeted him in kind. He felt a voice in his mind that, for once, was not the savage roars of his darker side pounding at the walls of his self-made prison in his mind. "Do not trouble yourself, nobildonna," he said, soft spoken as ever despite the utter neutrality of his voice. "I would speak in the same way, but some can find my mental voice to be… unwelcome." Aside from those he knew well enough, he did not like to use his telepathy on others; many were often disturbed by the shrill scratchy voice that his mind projected his words into, the demonic voice that suggested his infernal nature. He did not know how to change this, it was simply how his telepathy worked. He bowed his head toward the newcomer, the sides of his lips rising ever slightly in a hint of a smile. "I am Petruccio Giuseppe della Rovere, housecarl of Lust. I'll be here as company as long as you would like, or until duties prevent me from doing so."  Say what you want me to do and I will do it for you.
Say who you want me to do and I'll do her too.
And in the backstreets all the demons
Laugh as hell - They want some more.
Dobermans raising Cain in this loveless game,
And you wait to score...
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