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PostPosted: Sun Jan 05, 2025 6:44 pm


Prompt: Draco has been receiving mysterious packages since the night of the explosion. One night there is a knock at his door, and he comes face to face with the gracious stranger.
PostPosted: Tue Jan 21, 2025 5:41 pm


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ωith: Inga︱ ωhere: His Room︱ мood: Curious︱ σutfit:

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"Talking" ' Thoughts.'


Growing up, Draco’s favorite holiday was his birthday. The idea of planting something to help the creatures around him made him feel like he was a part of something bigger. However, once he joined his father, he realized how childish of an idea that was. There was no need for him to create something when most things were already made. Why should he waste his time working when it was much easier to have a maid provide it?

Maybe that was why he was so peeved by the random gifts he had been receiving as of late. It started as simple as a scarf, which Draco assumed was something someone was trying to return so he just left it. But the next day there was more left at his door and a mysterious card with unknown handwriting, so he assumed these gifts were for him. Draco wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel flattered by these offerings but looking at them just made him feel like some random admirer was following him.

The gift seems to be handmade, which just confused the Duke more. Why would they think he would want something constructed by a commoner? His clothes were made by luxury tailors, custom-made for him, but still, with each gift, he could find himself throwing it away. The idea of who might be so fascinated with him that they would go to such lengths kept him up at night, and tonight was no different.

Draco laid in his bed, wondering how his father would handle a situation like this. ' Father would have most likely thrown these away,' he thought to himself as he turned over attempting not to think about it, ' Or would he have used the admirer to his advantage?' There was a faint knock at the door that snapped him out of his illusion. His body snapped up and he ran towards the door. Opening the door the duke was surprised to see who was on the other side. The old woman he had assisted the night of the explosion, ' Is this her way of saying “thank you”?' He wondered as he looked down at her.

" Oh, it’s you." His voice sounded relieved, but he wasn’t sure that he was. It didn’t make much sense; Draco had barely interacted with the woman at all. The fact she had gone through all this just meant there had to be more of a hidden motive. It all just seemed a bit too sudden and strange to him. But if he was to discover her true intentions, he would have to try and pry deeper. Offering the girl a soft smile he opened the door wider, " You are up awfully late tonight, might I offer you a glass of wine or tea? It’s the least I can do after all the gifts you’ve brought me."








        ooc: Ah I hate intro posts sad

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PostPosted: Mon Feb 10, 2025 9:40 pm


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                                                              • Kindness had long been rare in Inga’s life. When she did not disgust a person, they pitied her, which was often the closest thing to kindness she could have within the palace walls. Pity was good. Pity was gentle. Many of the slaves and servants had pitied her in spite of their own circumstances, and her mother had taught her that pity–well, kindness, but they were near one and the same in Inga’s experience–should be rewarded. Of course, drawing attention was rarely good even as she fervently desired it, so it was always best to reward it quietly, secretly.

                                                                And since arriving in Utopia, she had met so many kind, pitying people. Her father was right, foreigners were so soft and squishy, but she liked it. She liked them. When she was not spending time with Ivan–and sometimes even when she was–she was working on gifts, because so many people here deserved something nice. She had already used up so much yarn, soon she would need to find more. Especially if she wanted to make Duke Draco a proper quilt to combat the coming Utopian winter. Perhaps her brother could help her in acquiring such, he had much better eyes than her.

                                                                In any case, she had made do with gifting the duke a scarf she had already been working on, composed of colors that had happened to remind her of the man himself–or perhaps it was wishful thinking. She had been all atwitter wondering what color his eyes were, if they would go well with the pattern–and though her heart was now thoroughly stolen by the gallant cowboy who had helped her in her search for Ivan, she could not forget the first crumb of kindness granted to her on her very first night here. Duke Draco deserved nice things. Soft things, for his soft pity-kindness.

                                                                She was still learning what he liked in order to make his gifts better, but she knew for sure after snooping around the kitchens that he liked apples. It had not been too difficult to get some apple baked goods for him to go with the scarf, though she had worried that he wouldn’t see them, as he had not initially seen the scarf. It was okay, she could relate to bad vision.

                                                                Today, she intended to drop off a soft, crocheted apple. Well, multiple crocheted apples, three red and one green, as they had been easy to work on while sitting with Ivan. Then, she had worried that they would make him hungry, so she had picked up a slice of apple pie from the kitchen to go with them.

                                                                Inga set them down before Duke Draco’s front door, quietly, quietly. Then, satisfied with the placement, she moved to leave, but somehow managed to lose her balance as she rose up. Her arms flailed out, one hitting the door to regain her footing, and when her feet stood solidly on the ground she gave a little sigh of relief…that then turned into a startled hiccup as the door flew open, a familiar tall, dark, and blurry figure looming over her.

                                                                " Oh, it’s you." Relief swept through her that he didn’t sound angry with the sight of her. Good, good, he truly was very kind. " You are up awfully late tonight, might I offer you a glass of wine or tea? It’s the least I can do after all the gifts you’ve brought me."

                                                                Oh, to take him up on his invitation, to be drawn into his room for more gentle discussion, and perhaps by the end he would part ways with her with a kiss to the back of her hand–wait, no, Inga! She could not be swept up in such fantasies, not when she now had Clint! Do better! She shook her hands at the duke.

                                                                "No, no, misunderstanding! Gifts are payment for kindness! No need for payment back!"

                                                                She stooped down to pick up the little basket that carried the pie slice and crocheted apples, then held it up in offering to the duke.

                                                                "I thought you would like, but yes, very late. Many sorries, I hope I did not wake you?"


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                                                                            location In front of Draco's room
                                                                            accompanying Draco
                                                                            ooc
PostPosted: Sat Feb 15, 2025 12:55 pm


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ωith: Inga︱ ωhere: His Room︱ мood: Curious︱ σutfit:

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"Talking" ' Thoughts.'

Draco wasn’t sure if it was just because he was two feet taller than her or that maybe he wasn’t as good at hiding his emotions as he originally thought but the woman seemed truly… terrified. The idea that she wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to accompany him was rather alarming given Draco thought he was quite the charmer and she was leaving him all these gifts but she was still turning him down at the end. It just didn’t make much sense to him.

Taking the basket out of her hand and looking at its content just led to more questions than answers. ' Apples and a slice of apple pie. I haven’t told anyone that I like apples except that kitchen staff…' He racked his brain thinking if he had seen her hiding around there but was sure he hadn’t. Hadn’t she said that she was a princess? He was sure he had heard that so why was she embarrassing herself giving him gifts so late at night? She could have sent a servant plus it seemed like Inga had made the apples herself, it didn’t make sense to the duke why the princess would waste her time with such a pointless hobby.

Still, Draco gave the girl another smile, " Not at all, I actually couldn’t sleep tonight so I appreciate the company," Not even a lie as he was waiting to find who his admirer was and now that he was face-to-face with her he just had more questions. When he was with Alosa he was quick to rush the girl to bed but that strategy hadn't turned out in his favor only really being someone that she relied on for a good time, not someone she was looking to wed. This seduction would take time, he could tell this woman was rather sheltered and kept away from most outsiders. If he was to prove that he was different than the rest then this would be a lifetime role for him to play.

Opening his door so the princess could enter, Draco thought about how he could convince her that he was husband material. Her gifts felt like there were some sort of test for him to try and compete with but how was he supposed to play if he didn’t know much about her outside of her title? Playing twenty questions wasn’t his strong suit, normally opting to just outdrink the person into a stupor where they were forthcoming about any secrets, they may had but this was different. He needed her to remember coming over, remember talking to him, and want to return.

Holding onto the basket with one hand and closing the door with another Draco thought more and more about how he was supposed to entertain a lady without using any of his tricks. Tricks were all he had. The idea of being himself felt impossible when he had spent so many years blending in he didn’t know who he was anymore, so twenty questions it had to be then. He didn’t have much furniture outside a small tea table, but it would have to do for now as he gestured the girl to sit with him unloading the pie slice on the table, " Please come sit, I promise I won’t keep you for too long. How did you know I liked apples so much?" He asked innocently as he knew how but was determined to determine the girl’s motives before figuring out his was.









        ooc:

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PostPosted: Tue Apr 22, 2025 7:47 pm


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                                                              • " Not at all, I actually couldn’t sleep tonight so I appreciate the company."

                                                                Inga melted under the warmth of his voice in spite of herself. He was just so nice...and dear, lovely, no doubt handsome Clint was the only man to view her as a woman, so surely it would not be inappropriate to oblige the kind, squishy duke? She would just have to keep her thoughts appropriate, she couldn’t do the cowboy the disservice of emotional infidelity!

                                                                "Ah, well, if Duke Draco insists…" she muttered, fingers tapping together as she stepped gingerly into his room. It was dark, as to be expected for the late evening, but she managed to follow him to a little table, where she climbed into a seat as he set down the pie she had brought him.

                                                                "How did you know I liked apples so much?"

                                                                Inga settled in her seat with a little harrumph of exertion, and stalled a moment in answering. It was a little embarrassing to be put on the spot…her siblings and father had never cared for her spying and gathering morsels of information for herself, always chasing her out of rooms if they managed to find her in one. She didn’t much know the views of the servants she had given gifts to; many things went unspoken with them, especially when she was in the precarious position of being a princess, yet also a castaway.

                                                                "...Inga ask kitchen servants," she admitted, twiddling her thumbs, "Duke Draco should get nice things, not bad tasting things. I made, ah, knit apples, but they could make you hungry, so…so apple pie, so you not get hungry."


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                                                                            location Draco's room
                                                                            accompanying Draco
                                                                            ooc
PostPosted: Sun May 11, 2025 6:23 pm


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ωith: Inga︱ ωhere: His Room︱ мood: Curious︱ σutfit:

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"Talking" ' Thoughts.'

A twitch of frustration hit as she hit him with her response. It couldn’t have been that simple. She was a princess and had better things to do than knit, surely. Unless she was so well off that she didn’t have to bother with academics or social gatherings. It was possible her whole life was already laid out for her, so she didn’t need to care about trivial things and could focus on something as simple as what he enjoyed.

If that was the case, it pissed him off. Where did she get off flexing her status on him just because he was of a lower class than him? Draco didn’t believe this kindness for one moment, every exchange had to have some sort of motivation. No one traded something for nothing. It was his time she wanted; Draco just had to figure out what she wanted with it. Considering she hadn’t jumped his bones yet meant that it wasn’t his body she was after. But if not that, then what?

" All that trouble for me?" He asked curiously, trying not to get too full of himself for sweeping the lady off her feet without breaking a sweat. " You shouldn’t have. I don’t think I can eat a whole pie by myself. Can I get you a slice, my lady?" He smiled at the woman as he cut himself a slice and placed it on one of the plates that was conveniently in the basket. Draco found it strange that there were multiple, noting that despite her refusal, it was possible she wanted him to invite her in after all.

Diving into the slice and taking a bite, Draco found himself going back to Thah, where his mother would make fresh pies and pastries for the royals for the holidays and let him have the leftovers. The desserts at Corthyr could never compare to those his mother made, but he learned early on that comparing the two aloud only led to trouble; instead, he offered a pleasant moan and smile to the woman as he partook of the treat. " It tastes even better with good company, wouldn’t you agree? Or is there another treat you wish you could be having?" Draco was shocked by how easily it was for him to ask this question to her, not worrying about her response.








        ooc:

love me til death
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PostPosted: Tue Jul 15, 2025 6:03 pm


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                                                              • "All that trouble for me?" he asked as though it were truly surprising, and she immediately nodded, fingers silently tapping together.

                                                                "It no trouble…" she muttered, but perhaps he did not hear her. This was understandable, she had a little voice, and even less presence. It was a wonder he had acknowledged her in the first place.

                                                                "You shouldn’t have. I don’t think I can eat a whole pie by myself. Can I get you a slice, my lady?"

                                                                Inga startled at his words, blinking furiously behind her glasses and trying to squint into the basket through the dim light and its woven side. An entire pie?! She had asked for a slice! She had not wanted to overly burden the good duke, she understood enough that immediately overgifting was uncomfortable, and how could anyone be expected to eat that much in the course of one evening? Well, she knew how, but it still would not have been healthy! Now it would only be polite to accept, and this was all very against her set intentions, how could tonight have gone so wrong!

                                                                "Can only accept," she sighed, nodding. "But small piece, Inga is not made for big."

                                                                She accepted the slice with profuse thanks, nibbling at the slice with a fork that felt too big for her hands. With her vision as poor as it was, she hadn’t seen where he retrieved the extra plate and utensils from. Did he just keep them on hand? What an oddly prepared man. She liked it. The pie itself was also very good, if somewhat too sweet for her liking. Still, she would not be ungrateful. All food was good food, unless it was poisoned.

                                                                The duke let out a warm moan that had her ears heating up, and she began to find the blurry shape of her pie to be the most interesting thing in the world suddenly. She was a faithful woman…she would not be greedy…not in her thoughts, and much, much less in her body. Still, it was nice to imagine…no, no, Inga, no, no…Clint was more than enough…even if he never touched her again, she would be satisfied…

                                                                "It tastes even better with good company, wouldn’t you agree? Or is there another treat you wish you could be having?"

                                                                Inga was nodding again, because as nervewracking as it was to be here in this room with him, he still remained gentle and kind, and that was far more than she could ask of anyone back home, even if Ivan granted it to her regardless. She paused at his second question, going over it carefully. Another treat…like the pie? Well, she was not particularly hungry, but…

                                                                "Soup would be good, but too late in evening for soup," she admitted, and speared a little more pie to nibble on it. "Good, hearty meat soup to go with pie. Very good. Duke Draco, you like soup? I have made next time. What kind? Do not think apple would go well…ah, no, not for gift in future or–or anything…"

                                                                Curses, now she probably shouldn’t leave him soup next time, he would know immediately it was her…perkele


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                                                                            location Draco's room
                                                                            accompanying Draco
                                                                            ooc
PostPosted: Sun Aug 10, 2025 8:56 am


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ωith: Inga︱ ωhere: His Room︱ мood: Paranoid︱ σutfit:

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"Talking" ' Thoughts.'

The fork looked comical in her hands, not realizing that his spare silverware would be too long for someone with her frame. Yet, she didn’t complain. She just gave her thanks and acted as if it was no issue, leading further into Draco’s frustration as he was more confused than ever about her appearance. If she did not want anything from him, then why would she agree to meet with him this late in the night? This was the time for deals and exchanging secrets; it made no sense for her to be here otherwise.

Unless he scared her, that was a possibility the duke had not considered under looking at the woman struggling to hold her utensils as she ate her slice of pie, with what Draco could only assume was a smile. It was he who had invited her in. The apples were a way of her not wanting to be in his debt. She was smarter than she was letting on, thinking she was just being kind, but in reality, it was terror and guilt motivating her. This was something much easier for him to comprehend than one just wishing to return a kindness.

His trap he had laid in the hopes she would reveal her intentions, had fallen flat once again as she quickly rebuffed him. Did she want the soup, or was it just another excuse to see him? Was it weird that Draco would be offended if it wasn’t the latter? The duke found himself to be rather good at keeping company, so why did he feel like he was the one who wasn’t keeping his side of the conversation? " Perhaps it is I who should be gifting you soup." He mused on the idea of him playing a delivery boy. "After all, you have gifted me with your presence. I have been curious who it was leaving me such gifts."

If he were a dog, he was lying on his back waiting for her to pin him down and call herself his master, but she was still playing coy. " What is your favorite?" It had been a long time since he had homemade soup, a memory from back at his mother’s stead. Soup was rather simple to prepare, a commoner’s meal or an appetizer for some nations. But for Draco, it was a reminder. Reminding him all close he was to going back to the rags he was from if he couldn’t connect with these people. Draco doubted that his mother was the only person his father had bedded and produced as heir.








        ooc:

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First Year Oct. 8th to Nov. 11th Time Skip

 
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