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Aleksei

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  1. Aleksei

    The Calling

    And there it was, the very reason she has crossed lands and oceans and sand. He stood above her like a looming mountain shadowing the lands rolling beneath it; she did not move, did not flinch away from the sudden appearance of the man with striking eyes framed by dark hair. When he said her name, she gave a beaming smile that took over her entire face, shaping it into something kind and youthful - good. She would not question his knowledge, surely her name and her being is known to the shadows as well as the light in every corner of the world. Such light? That caused a slender brow to rise in question. While she is not an evil slithering snake in the grass, she is not a woman of worship and she is certainly no hero in comparison to most. Deep in her breast she has wants and needs just like the average man, though such things may be darkened by the fact she will do whatever she can to achieve her goals. She wonders if this light he speaks of may just be her brimming power, and not the representation of her person. Given little time to really speak her mind or give the proper introductions, the Witch Doctor was pushed back into her body unceremoniously. He wasn’t wrong though, she had stayed outside her body too long, it had slowly began to turn back into (what they believe) its original form and use - soulless. In the stories her gran told her years ago, the soulless are the type of folk who wander around drooling, babbling, and looking worse for the wear. Without a soul they wandered aimlessly and usually died the same way. Her body rolled backwards once it and soul reconnected with each other. The force rolled her backwards, making the scene look like a mixture of fabric, hair, and exaggerated jewelry meshed together in a whirlwind of colors. She landed on her hind end, which she lifted to rub away the soreness. “Axxin los’ ‘oy.” The accent didn’t roll smoothly off her tongue; it collided against his own words and together they became a jumbled mess. Standing up to approach the naked man, she slapped the sand off her person and swiped her hair out of her face; just because he’s naked for all the world to see, doesn’t mean she shouldn’t care about her own appearance. Lavender hues glittered mischievously though as they explored the man with ghost fingers that traced his jaw, his lips, shoulders and even the tapered waist - he is indeed a man. Tickled to have shape to the thing that’s been haunting the halls of her vision, Myrlande offers him another face changing smile. “Issa oos of ya ‘oy. Talk me yo ‘ame an’ … uh, change yer nekkidness, yessim puhlease.” She wasn’t embarrassed by his nakedness, having grown up bare around men and women she saw no shame in exposing yourself to the world. Having him before her in all his glory was almost a welcoming picture because it was familiar, something she hasn’t had in a very long time since traveling across Valucre. “Op, ate ate ate, my ‘alk.” Before he could get too far to explaining himself, she held up her hand to pause him so that she could gather her words. Forgetting that her accent sounds like she’s trying to be elegant while chewing on marbles, it’s a hard thing to decipher. It took awhile to shove down her upbringing so a proper woman could take its place, but by the good words of all above she’s done it. “I’m sorry, what’s your name? And maybe you should put clothes on ay?”
  2. “I do not envy you one bit, Hohenheim. Not one bit.” Lyonene knows how difficult it has to be dealing with a person such as Cornelius. He has tapped into the vein of the Lion and hasn’t stopped thriving off it since his rise to magnificence, and it’s made his pride a rather immeasurable gift that keeps on giving to those he surrounds himself with. It has taken her years to quell her impetuous ways, though it is those ways that’s given her the world shaped beneath her naked feet. Without the fire in her veins and the pride shaping her soul, Lyonene would still be underneath her father’s rule and her mother’s watchful eye, and only one of those things has even been welcomed. Lost in her thoughts, she forgot her own set of rules, unlike her brother who chose to simply ignore them. Curious eyes took in the picture of Cornelius, leaving her to wonder when he got so tall and even though he carries the coloring of their mother, he looks like their father - handsome, cold edged, hungry. Blessed to be the apple of his eye, she just now realizes that her little brother is a man destined to take the world by storm. Or was she looking at him through rose colored glasses? Is Cornelius honestly what she’s made him to be or is she relying on the words of others? Does it truly matter? What he is today is her’s and as far as she is concerned, that’s all that really matters to her. Tomorrow can wait. “How often have you used your honeyed words for other women, brother? I’m sure there’s a plethora of women with syrup just dripping from their ears thanks to you.” Oh she knows, she knows very well that her beloved brother has a way with women. She can’t blame others for their watery knees when he speaks nor can she fault them for wanting to touch his golden hair or gaze into the depths of his eager eyes - she is just as guilty. Anyone who falls on his blade, it is also their fault; Cornelius would never draw against another without good reason. “I expect greater things from those lips, Cornelius. I won’t be wooed as if I’m some simple woman on her knees.” Briefly disregarding the rules on her behalf, Lyonene speaks her mind freely. He must know how she feels and he must know who she is, because eventually their marriage will not be a thing of dreams and she will no longer be a figment of his imagination. A woman, flesh and blood and thought, he will have a Lioness for his den and his throne, and she is every bit of the word. Lyonene has carved her place out into a very unwelcoming world and she has no intentions on stopping or being stopped. At her side she expects Cornelius, the very same expectation he has of her. “Before we dive back into society, tell me about you and home?” While she’s bitter towards the Cold South and her father, she adores all things that involve her family. At some point she will have to confront her father, and all the talk of fire in her veins … she easily melts against it. Corvinus is someone that’s pushed her, made her want to do something with her life, and has given her anything and everything without her having to ask. “Our parents are well? Do I have another brother or sister on the way? I admit I miss the raucous of our family a great deal.”
  3. She understood, and perhaps that is the overall problem of things. When one loves something, it makes it far more difficult to let it go because if you did not love that thing (no matter how brief) it would be easier to let it slip through your fingers. Darim knew that it is not just an entire empire her siblings and parents have to worry and constantly prune, it is their very living they must consider and treat with indifference at times. Perhaps her anger stemmed more from the fact that she is spoiled and has always been given what she most desires. This time, when she had expected things to go her way, they did not and it rubbed her wrong to be snubbed so easily by someone she had thought was wrapped around her finger. The revelation made her stop in her tracks, allowing the balm to sooth her raging anger to a small smolder. It's difficult, no matter how you want to look at the whole ordeal - it's difficult. That won't change what needs to be done today. Clearing her throat and smoothing the front of her skirt, Darim gathered her thoughts. Feeling revitalized, she approached his office, ignoring anyone who hovered around and dismissed the obvious who asked to escort her inside. There was no time for interruptions and she doesn't need half the empire knowing the full details of her business. So she entered his office in a flurry of skirts and fire, slamming it shut behind her as to punctuate her feelings and her determination to stand up against Cae. “I don’t need you or my father or my brothers dictating my thoughts and actions.” The words left her heart before they could reach her mind. They lacked her usual eloquence and most certainly her common delicacy. What she wishes to say and what needs to be said are washed together, creating a puddle of indescribable colors used to paint how she feels. She has allowed her siblings and her father too much control over the things she does, and while it is love that guides their heart it is ignorance they walk upon. She understands why her eldest sister took the opportunity to leave home, and how she has blossomed from the separation. Love is a very difficult sort of creature and she knows at the base of it all she is a precious person to many other precious people, and all they do is out of love and necessity. While it has angered her beyond reason that Cae made a decision for her, she understood why and now he is going to understand her capability as a person. "I know you have a job to do, and I know that involves protecting my family and such, and that requires you to step on toes." She wouldn't allow him to speak, and if he tried she would simply cut him off. Right now it is her opportunity to use her own influence. "But you will not act for me. I was capable of making my own decisions and I would never place us in a precarious situation, no matter how I felt intrigued to do so. If you don't trust me, I completely understand and won't judge you harshly for it; you will know that it is the last time you dictate my actions." Darim could care less about his appearance; she hardly looked at his scarring, obviously dismissing his attire all together for it didn't matter.
  4. "Would there be a reason our Emperor would send us to watch over you?" Celine tipped her head gently to the side, punctuating her question with curiosity. As far as she knows they've all proven to be reliable enough they did not need too many lectures, though she doubts the Wolf is not capable of not working and judging those that are idle. "I wouldn't say we're that desperate to be entertained." While her pregnancy has progressed far enough to see just a timid rise to her stomach, it's not far enough to dissuade her from being dutiful. Mina is held at a higher standard, for she is one of a few who is working to build the empire stone by stone; Celine worked to protect the man who has brought them together, and often enough that doesn't require her to be constantly at his side. Unable to provide a word between Vincent and Mina, she was left to think on Vincent's words. It's true, while most things are not built solely on the tip of a whip or the edge of words, they are certainly tools that have helped the process. Koji has shown his kindness and his meanness in many ways, leaving the people to learn for themselves what they wish to do with his offered graces. Kenshi appears to be a man stuck in his ways and has no intentions on budging, so his response will surely be something filled with proverbs and dark life lessons. "I believe Vincent is hungry for your attention Mina, perhaps you should sate the man?" A third wheel, she doesn't want to interrupt a conversation that has nothing to do with her. Not one to appeal to the likes of others, she will not pretend to understand the flow between Vincent and Mina. "Exercise would do me well; do you have specific plans for our new arrivals?" She spoke directly to Kenshi, her arm dislodged from Mina's hold now so that she can clasp her hands behind her back. Celine waits for him to say something about pregnant women being impacable of things, or maybe he'll surprise her and compliment her (ha!) on her fortitude. Whatever he throws at her feet she will eagerly pick up. Knowing the expense of her knowledge and use to the empire, she is fairly capable of teaching and demonstrating, maybe she can assist him in wrangling in the troop - or not. Right now he's the captain of the ship and she just a mate. Koji reached and she turned, noting the person who accompanied him; golden eyes shifted from brief distress to curiosity. Nur was a curiosity, and it showed on the woman's smiling expression she was intrigued.
  5. "When is it not?" Darcy replied, her lips spread into a tight smile that told a tale of unease. While she does not know the story behind his change, she knows enough that his weariness is warranted. The creatures beyond their walls have done what they can to prevent Kadia from growing, and there have been times of brief success on their part. The Cold South suffers from the same infliction, and while they understand their strengths, they are not too stubborn to know that even the strongest of walls can be knocked down. Unlike the Inquisitor, Darcy's story has been passed through the ranks and common people, to the point there was absolutely no flavor left to the whole ordeal. The Heathens of the Old World had caught her and removed her ability to have children, things she had never put thought into but now left to mourn that the chances were taken from her. A hazy sort of thing, something she is fairly happy about. The scar is enough to leave her uninterested in the events. Now here, home as it is, she is still unable to escape the dangers of black magic and its cultists. Running right back into battle, hand raised, voice primed - stubborn pride. This is her life, this is what she took her oath for, and she is not one to back down or be dissuaded so easily. "So Caelius," she gave him a sidelong glance, her smile now turning more natural, "what's her name~? You seeing a noble woman on the side~?" He wasn't one to be teased or made fun of, they all knew that, but that would require her to care and she doesn't. Having known each other for a reasonable amount of time she remembers the man who smiled easily and was a bit more carefree - he doesn't scare her. Somewhere underneath his hard, cold exterior is a man with a kind heart, and any woman would be happy to have him in their life. "Does she give you chaste kisses? Or have you taken it further?" Punctuating her teasing, she blew him kisses, the noises loud enough to draw attention to them but of course none of the wandering legionnaires would dare approach or even crack a smile. What knowledge she has of all the noble women of the Cold South and Kadia makes her think that he has found himself a flower. A delicate woman, with a pale face, pink lips, blonde because that's usually what men go for; that's the sort of woman she pictures Caelius attaching himself to. Someone that will rub his head after a hard day's work, who will listen to all his woes as if they understand what he's saying, and playing the ever so doting wife. So gross, this thing called love.
  6. "I have no concern for your money or lack thereof." She had waved his admittance away with the flick of her wrist, ushering it away from the table like some pest. She hadn't asked him about his wealth, already knowing his wealth simply laid with his skills as a political figure and nowhere else. "Renovatio is not new to revolution of any kind, but it has been stuck in the ripples of time - unmoving, confused, and stuck." She swallowed down her final drink before plucking the blue-eyed woman's from her hand and putting it down on the table. The ironed woman was the keeper to the volatile creature that was dressed prettily, which all in all is some kind of farce they're trying to keep up. With a smile, she allowed the cup to be taken away from her, simply resuming her look around the room while listening to the rest of the conversation. There was no tit for tat, unfortunately so. That arrow meant to strike would be shredded the instant it left its bow, which was a oh so unfortunate circumstance. The headache, insignificant as it would not exist in the realm around the red-dressed woman; the crackling was nothing just stale air that is often found in places as this. Noi wished to push this woman into some realm of reality that she chose to not acknowledge, thus whatever hurt she wanted to put upon her was nonexistent. Perhaps it would be best that they all realize that this is all hers. They exist because she allows it. "Oo'Xora is part of a bigger picture, something that none of you should forget. The Grand Kommandant is absolute, and she is watching you all from her shadows." Death and bloodshed and so forth would not phase the woman many revere as their ruler. Used to it, lived it, worked it, and shaped it while being so new and fresh upon the throne, what he speaks of would not scare the woman let alone worry her any. Perhaps that is why so many have flocked to the comforts of the Grand, because they know she has accepted change and is allowing it to flow through Renovatio like blood flows through your veins. "Renovatio allies itself with the Cold South, Alterion, and Kadia. These are just things to remember, things I'm sure you're not privy to, but it doesn't hurt to play the reminder." "Tell me more about this eternal paradise." The blue eyed woman spoke, her voice breaking the chill in the air with a humid warmth that blanketed Koji. A deep shine danced under her comfortable, lackadaisical gaze that penetrates his clothing in a welcoming manner. "Are your women going to put down their weapons and feed you hummingbird tongues glazed in cinnamon-honey? Once war is done and battle diminished, what will you do with your time? Make children, devour any woman in your path?"
  7. Aleksei

    Caesura

    She hopes the talk will be harsh like the drawing of his jaw and dark as his gaze, for such a thing should never have happened, never have tempted the edges of her garden. They've done their best to not allow histories mingle and dance with their future endeavours; whatever Rou wished to accomplish with the O'o, hopefully she was fulfilled for the repercussions will not be kind. Slender shoulders slacked once green eyes met black, the acknowledgement of her own hurt made her feel less needy for revenge. Rou is a guest, just like Roen is still a guest, and a act of ill intent against them would only be a mar on her own personal beliefs. Corvinus will surely allow her to handle it, so she should not disappoint him by acting on emotion solely. Maybe it would be best to understand the why behind the action? Though she isn't sure Rou is the sort to confide such things so willingly to a stranger. Just how Roen may not be the sort to air out his dirty laundry before strangers. His dark gaze made the Empress offer a welcoming smile, the only whim of comfort she could find that may be taken as a helping hand and not a sign of pity. His whimpering would be song etched into the winding tubes of her ears; replayed, coveted, and confiscated only for her to listen to. Why? For what reason? Corvin has done well to tell her what he felt was only necessary about his past connections; a red string connecting him, Roen, Irene, and various others, leaving her as an outlier. "Oathbreaker?" Long fingers closed around the skull, while a curious tilt painted her stance. Such casualness between Corvinus and Roen, though that should be expected, there was something hoisting the name Oathbreaker in a manner of significance. She felt this way when Irene had arrived in the wedding; a complete strangeness that makes the world dip underneath her usually sound feet, setting her nerves on a precarious edge. There is some truth she has yet to be provided, and it appears to be hidden underneath Roen's words and Corvin's silence. "Don't apologize." A misstep perhaps? Was he apologizing for him being in their gardens, invading the sanctity of their home? Or was there something else more mocking behind his words? "While these gardens make their home in Kadia, they belong to me and here you are most welcome - even without permission." She would receive a backlash from Corvinus for opening her precious space to be occupied by a Devil. It mattered very little to her, he could be a beast with three heads and two legs with hooves for hands and he'd be welcome to her gardens to find peace of mind and heart. If anyone in the land of Valucre deserves any semblance of peace and soothing, it would be Roen, so distraught his actions had been. The Lion would have liked to attempt to comfort the man, but she is not the woman to sooth the lines in his forehead and tend to the wounds in his heart. Leoa would allow her husband to explain the situation that had transpired, knowing that he would have a better way of explaining the situation than she would.
  8. "Olympia." There was something wrong with him calling her Oly in front of her fellow comrades. While their are siblings, have grown through the small handful of wars together, that doesn't mean he should treat her different in comparison to the rest. She is just as green (if not more) like the rest of them, and she fully expects to be thrown through the ringer right along them. When it's just them during their private travels across Valucre, he is welcome to call her Oly, but during business like this he may call her Olympia - nothing else. She watched Deiter take control over the situation, taking notes for the eventual position she will be taking. He was a goal, something that she has only just recently realized, and nothing will sate her hunger to stand in the same shoes he wears, carry the same markings as he, and handle the same burdens he does. Deiter is someone she has always looked up, and together they will accomplish her goal. "We would have been earlier, but someone was too occupied with the scenery." Deiter and Desmond shared something very common: poised distraction. While the two are masters of their skills, they often have a strange aloofness to their ways (nothing can compete with Altair though) that left them to be curious men amongst their peers. They had gotten distracted along the way, with Deiter telling her a story about his home, a place that always felt like something out of a fairytale book - it just may be. He teased her, making her wonder how often he's turned the truth for his games. "While we must learn from our mistakes, we shouldn't allow them to burden us." Her attention turned to Lordran, his manner making her a smidge concerned. All must honor her father, look to him like the god he's proclaimed to be, but none should be lost in the teachings of his rule. They are their own individuals and they must cultivate their skills, their beliefs, and their hearts to properly assist the Empire. Afterwards, she playfully pats Camus on his shoulder, forcing him to stand straight. Oly is a SoulSeeker first and foremost in their group, not a Princess, certainly not an Imperial Princess, the second youngest to all their God-Emperor's children. "It looks like you both are going to suffer enough with the demons of failure, I don't think there's anything else Deiter can do to make you both see the disappointment of your actions." A smile paints her youthful face, her mother's gracious light accentuating the curves of her cheeks and the twinkle in her dark eyes.
  9. Aleksei

    ARRIVAL III

    "My mother and father were blessed with golden hair; they say it has something to do with the blessing on our family name, though I have a feeling genetics has more to say about that." Leoa laughed along with them, easily molding into their conversation as if she has always been part of their entourage. The words slipped easy from her lips, the mentioning of her parents something rare, especially to the ears of her Emperor. She knows most of his story, how he came to be and why he is the way he is now, but she has kept her own upbringing close to her heart, locked away behind sealed doors with no way in and no way out. Something painful passes through her, causing the fingers on her cursed hand to twitch and then stiffen in response. Firstly she thought it had to do with the magical presence that slithers beneath Orisia; secondly, and the real reason, she put the pain more on the awkwardness still swelling in her chest, waiting to burst out. The pain traveled up her dark arm, forcing her to bend down in response, though she painted the reaction so it was timed perfectly with the other woman's hushed tone. "Ha! Well, I can say I know the feeling well enough. I had to dye my hair black once, and we'll just say the end result was disastrous." The memory was a balm to the ache in her arm and now her jaw as well. Yonatan had been the artist for the farce - it took days for the dye to completely wash out of Leoa's hair. Torn away from the conversation, they are guided to the carriages to begin their journey to their final destination. Her fingers found themselves desperate for attention as they wove themselves in Corvin's hold, gloved fingers mingling with naked ones. She gave his hand one small desperate squeeze before her attention found itself immersed in the beauty of its surrounding. Now here her anxiousness has risen to an uncomfortable height. Outwardly she appears graceful and calm, showing her masterful skill at playing her part as Empress. On the inside she's nothing but taught nerves and unease. It was unfortunate that she had to look away from the window, the sudden movements causing her stomach to disagree with the rushing images of buildings and beauty. Not that she had to have much of a picture painted for her to remember a time long past. While the years have come and gone, Orisia stood against time and has continued to blossom, something she wasn't surprised by. Places like so do well when nothing threatens their borders, something that Leoa can be envious of. The Lion smiled at the ladies, knowing how they feel but in the opposite manner. Corvinus has almost drowned the entirety of the Cold South and Kadia in wires and tubes and machines she has no clue work. She has yearned for life and earth for some time now, and knowing this her husband has spoiled her with new slips of flowers and cuttings of plants, allowing her to grow them wherever she pleases. It's sadly just not the same. "You must come with me to Renovatio then! It's a mixture of all this beauty with technology, so you get the best of both worlds." In her attempt to bring home to Kadia, she had insisted greenery of any kind to be bountiful on the island. Flowers, shrubbery, and so forth to cover every corner of her new home to ease the loneliness that hovers ever so hatefully above her tender heart. They arrived with all limbs attached and were welcomed courteously. "We are guests here and only intend to take some time from your Queen. We will refresh ourselves, and when the Queen sees fit, we'll visit with her."
  10. Aleksei

    The Calling

    Lavender hues searched the darkness with eagerness. Just behind her she could feel the presence of her own body, which was still kneeling with arms slacked to her sides, mouth agape and eyes wide open towards the heavens. In order to step across planes hidden from the normality of life, she must abandon unnecessary baggage. Myrlande had called forth something, not knowing what that something is or even was, just that time had told her that it was now or never. Not one to ignore her calling, she awoke to dreams that painted a creature of mighty power locked in a gilded cage, left to look out into a world it can never be part of - until now. Young and completely ignorant to the ancient powers that had once inhabited Valucre and beyond, the woman has no idea the thing she has called to her, just that it was by a strange right she becons it forth. A bright light pressed against the backdrop of darkness, she stood there with pride painting her stance and certainty drawing her strong jaw. She did not shy away from the rush of power threatening to draw her underneath its unwavering current - no, she is too great for such a thing. He, this thing stronger than anything she has ever encountered, did not frighten her, did not dissuade or make her step back away from his touch. Instead she stepped forward, putting more space between herself and her body, knowing well that if too much distance is put between them she could be lost. A risk she's more than willing to take. "Gardes don!" Look at that! Her heavy accent broke through the deafening silence of the darkness. While most would see nothing, she saw everything. The darkness moved like a pile of slithering snakes, just twisting and turning about each other in an intricate dance. Her ears rang with their song, causing her excitement to rise. Did they know what was coming? Did they know who this is and what they are? Do they understand that she is nothing in comparison to the which that is approaching? Their song was mocking almost, but it only made her more determined. He would sense her. Through his own immense power, she was an obnoxious little speck disturbing the flow.
  11. @Alexei @King The shattering of the vase made everyone pause, a speck of surprise and fear painting their delicate features as they searched for the culprit that's disrupted their coveted silence. Some wondered why such heavy hands were allowed inside the glass garden; others ignored the intrusion and continued to prune their designated areas with grace and dignity. It wasn't until the blood curdling scream did everyone become alert and distracted from their duties. Leoa looks at the blurred image of beautifully crafted clay scattered around her, like stars dotting a nights sky, she the moon they dance and twinkle at. She smelled the blood and her brows wrinkled together in confusion because the scent, fire and brimstone, sunshine and flowers, it belonged to her. For what reason, though? She had just placed the vase on the shelf, the flowers inside it dead and needing replaced. Then someone screamed, why? Was someone hurt and she just wasn't aware of it? From her position all she could see was the shattered vase, the divots in the polished floor of her indoor garden, and strands of golden hair tangled and matted in redness. A piercing pain shot through her core, causing her to curl on her side and vomit from the sensation, spoiling the clippings on the floor and further damaging her once sweet-smelling hair. Gentle hands lifted her head, where it found solace in a warm lap now stained from the blood pouring from her nose and mouth. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard someone yelling orders, though the voice was strange, as if they were all speaking under water. It confused her, and she tried to lift herself up to see what was wrong, but was quickly snuffed when another pain crippled her. Corvinus was called for, she knows because she heard someone mention his name. They didn't hear her say no, something about him visiting Ravenspire due to some business out in the Old World. If they call him now, that is hours of his day he'll never get back and they all know better than to disturb him. Earlier in the day he had been uneasy, being spoiled by not only Leoa, but his newborn son; leaving had been difficult for him, and repeatedly he promised to be back early. Hopefully his promise is broken. Something popped in her chest, forcing a gush of blood to fly from her parted lips. The pain felt warm and languid, causing her to relax against it instead of fighting it. She felt her body convulse as the hurt took over her veins and nerves; she tasted the mixture of vomit and blood on her tongue, it's burn insignificant; she heard her sobs and tasted her tears. Pain is a long time friend, but never a welcomed one. For once in her long life she is giving into it, the fight leaving her body like everything else. It was an expected unexpected visit. There is no forgetting who you really are, no matter how hard you've tried to evade time and it's contingent. While never honestly being against who she is, Leoa has never acknowledged her bearings, allowing herself to become complacent in Corvin's shadow. He's said often enough that his life is what it is because of her, but he forgets that who she is, what she has become, is because of him. Now she must depart from his shadow and take her place in the light of day - without him. It is just something that has to be done, neither one of them could have hoped to fight against fate and win such a battle. He was calling her home. He has waited long enough and now it's time that she become what he has always molded her to be. More people shuffled into the garden, most not knowing what to do with the Empress struggling to breath, bleeding from her eyes and nose and mouth and ears. The sight was horrible. Others knelt at her side, waiting for medical personnel to arrive and do their job. Leoa knew it would be no use, but she would not deny them their hopes and wishes, especially because only two of her children resided in the castle and only one would understand. Cornelius was called and a nurse was left with Connor, who was just weeks old - still sweet, fresh, and precious. The Lion hopes Connor will be loved unconditionally and he will not notice the absence of his mother. No painful wound hurt her as much as the idea of leaving behind her children and her husband.
  12. Aleksei

    Good Ol' Days

    She ran her fingers through her curls before readjusting her jeweled crown. Afterwards she centered her necklace, forcing the large yellow diamond to sit on her chest; these actions spoke about her uncertainty. Don't make me go over there. The words made the Empress frown a bit as she took her steps slow and easy against the growing crowd. Satisfied with her appearance, the woman worked her way towards Nadia. I'll watch from afar, but don't make me approach him because if he's here ... so is he. Leoa didn't have to read between the lines to know what the woman talked about, the reasoning for her sudden panic. The Lion understood and while this would be a dark mark against the ucissore, she didn't seem to care and quickly took her leave into the shadows. What was the story behind all this? she wondered, now increasingly curious as she approached Nadia and her own little entourage. Cross she knew, but only briefly and not as fondly as Grievous. Now Grievous, there's a man she knows - not in that way. While she's sure he'd like to, the man has never visited Leoa's bed and will never have the fortunate opportunity to do so. Friends from happenstance and circumstance, the two share a common bond for many things with only one in particular really sticking out: their dislike for spiders or anything really disgustingly creepy and crawly. Kind of like two peas in a pod or something like that. "Oh goodness! I think that may be a blow to her husband's vanity." The Grande Ucissore made her grand entrance; a wide smile spread beautifully across her ageless face, revealing rows of perfect teeth that have seen the light of day countless times. On her arm hung her husband, who is a perfect contrast to her light; he stands above her in all his darkness, a smile barely touching his lips let alone reaching his eyes. He probably wasn't pleased that his Empress made him wear a yellow tie with his black suit that he could match her yellow dress, because that's what married couples do. Instantly the surrounding ucissore fell to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the ground in honor of their Grande. Such a title weighed more than that of Empress. Dismissing the display, Leoa approached Nadia (excusing her intrusion to the Dr.) and enveloped the young girl in a tight hug. "Where is my child, your husband?" Leoa released Nadia to glance over her head, searching for Altair who is more than likely avoiding the crowds - or entertaining someone he shouldn't be. "And you, Cross, where is your partner in crime? Chasing skirts somewhere, I assume?" Emerald eyes danced with amusement as they settled on Cross, because she doesn't have to really know to know where Grievous is and what he is doing. There are so many women here, surely the man is trying to break a record or something. Next was the exuberant Comtess. She gave Ocelot a knowing look. Shadowplay is also her forte and she can see through the various arts created around it. She would say nothing though, and simply play along to ensure that Ocelot keeps playing his part. "A boundless pleasure indeed! My, look at your attire - your shoes! Tell me, were they a gift or?"
  13. Aleksei

    Good Ol' Days

    "I've entertained vampires, and werewolves, and even mermaids on countless occasions." Her answer came with a curious tone to her voice. There's been many, many strange things and peoples she has met in the years of freedom. "But you are the very first azure man I've had the pleasure of knowing." As for being gracious and polite, she isn't sure. During her sheltered time in Alterion she had always been surrounded by familiars, and they hardly spoke to her or when they did they were always terse words. Being gracious and polite, what else was there? Power may have been at her fingers, but she never grasped and used it to her benefit. There was just never a need to flex her muscle, everything had been handed to her and she was more than happy to oblige. It wasn't until she was forced to think for herself and do for herself when she realized that she is far more capable than she had ever thought. Leoa and Corvinus were not kind to her sheltered ways, and were quick to mold her into a respectable person. "That's a loaded question!" Nadia turned thoughtful, now given an opportunity to really talk about herself and the things that bring her pleasure. "I've charted stars and seas and oceans and the wilds. Not much of a salty sailor, but I have earned my way around a ship or two." A happy kind of light made her red eyes glow, showing her pride in her own skills and her general love for anything that involved the oceans beyond their borders. "You're not wrong," she looked out to the crowd with a nervous smile, "I've been in crowds as big and mean as this one, but not filled with ... my people." A strange thing to say when the people of Alterion belong to her as much as the sky does. While she understood her responsibility as a Royce, she wasn't sure how to operate amongst the people of this land, let alone above them. None of them respect her, none of them truly know her, and they certainly don't trust her all that much. Nadia can't blame them though; who suddenly just reappears and claims a name and expects to be revered? Their conversation was interrupted by a new face, causing Nadia to ready her defenses by putting on a mask of cordial thanks when complimented. This woman approached with ease, something most did when they found themselves unthreatened. Much to her consternation, Nadia was ready to blush when the woman complimented she and Cross as a couple. Would it be rude to correct her? Would it be strange to stay quiet? Nadia wore nothing on her hand to indicate her marriage, not that it was a secret or something they couldn't speak about, it's just the attention associated with it. It's why he wasn't there at her side, agreeing to covet her like the rest just to ensure her safety and comfort. "You are welcome Lilium." The good doctor had opened the floodgates. First her, then Oliviette who would be given a passing smile, and lastly Leoa and her husband. Too much at once, and if it were not for the Lion drowing Nadia in a familiar hug, she would have turned to excuse herself. The familiar faces made it easier for her to stay on the ground, and with Cross being gracious enough to entertain her, she can stay for further conversation. "I'm sure he'll survive, and as for his whereabouts - I don't know." She laughed, the ice melting away from her once again. "You two know each other?" Nadia threw a bewildered look between the Empress and Cross, wondering how much this man knows. "Where's Yonatan? Did she not come with you?" Yoni was one of the first to befriend Nadia, and the two women have been close ever since that fateful day. She figured because Yonatan had been Leoa's proclaimed replacement that the woman would be here, mingling with the Emperor and Empress. Seeing her not at the Grande's side made Nadia openly question the lack of ucissore turned courtesan turned uccisore. "And how do you know Cross?" The question was left for Cross to answer, since the Empress seems more interested in Oliviette’s attire than the previous conversation. This was going to be a struggle.
  14. Desperation did not paint the three, but that said very little about who they are and what they wish to gather from this meeting of powers. They were not rushed for time has shown them it was patient towards their cause, and held them in high enough esteem that it would wait and listen and watch. Something about being patient and good things will come due to said patience. It’s a mantra of sorts, for these people of Oo’Xora and for the people of Renovatio, but some prefer to manipulate time, to twist and turn it to their own cause. Seo had disappeared before hearing the ironed lady speak her feelings about Koji openly staring at the other woman. Having excused herself to gather the sake (not trusting the waiters and waitress still littering the tavern) she missed the opportunity to eye the ironed woman who held little to nothing back. She appears the be the sort who likes to take care of business and not play the dance of politics. “You will get to know her well enough in due time.” The truth be told she is the reason why they gather here at the table in a dilapidated tavern being held up by Seo’s proprietor - whoever he may be. The memories gathered in the corners and the spilled blood dried beneath floorboard said more about what the tavern was, and if walls could talk … Mina would feel the sharp sting of change first, then the followers who occupied the shadows, the cracks, the cobwebs, and so forth before it spread outwards to the man who is not Kenshi and the doe-eyed Koji. It wasn’t a threatful punctuation to their senses, more of a gentle intrusion, like a willful child tugging at an errant strand of hair. It would come and them go, hanging on for just a few seconds before drifting on to other things. Because they all wished to remain as transparent as they possibly can, the blue eyed woman smiled at Koji as to say: it was me! “It has come to our attention that you have an insatiable desire for new things.” By this time Seo arrives with a tray and with comfortable quickness serves the table their drinks before shuffling away. The ironed woman would let her know when she is needed, so for the moment she will remain out of sight until she is told to come hither. “Oo’Xora seems the kind of place you can call home. Tell me Koji, if given this opportunity what would you do with it?”
  15. The ruckus caused her to turn her head towards the direction of the door. She couldn't hear (they had taken that away from her) but she could still taste and feel and know. Their shield around her had weakened with the sudden removal of so many - how? she thought to herself. Barely anyone knows about the prison and those who do know could care less because they had put their best inside to ensure nothing gets out. She could taste the fear and feel their panic, like a heavy blanket of confused emotions not knowing where to go or what to do. In a way it pleased her to know that they were suffering as they've earned that right. Her pleased smirk was removed once the door to her prison was slid open. Instinctively she shuffled back into a corner, her bruised knees gliding across the rough floor causing them to bleed and sting. In the light that threatened to disrupt her darkness, she looked wild, almost as if they had plucked her from the forests like some nymph captured for the curiosities of men. Dirty, starved, tired, and angry, Danlim was the epitome of an enemy kept under lock and key for years and years. "No." The word slipped from her lips, the venom hitting them straight in the heart. If they planned on moving her there would be a fight, they would receive far worse than whatever was happening down below. It's been a long time since they have relocated her and she had no intention on doing travel ever again, unless it's to leave this place as a free woman and only then would she tempt the idea of even moving for them. Her word did very little to persuade them. The first offense was felt in her right arm when the muscle contracted and spasmed into a tight knot, rendering the limb useless. Next she felt something pop in her chest, causing an overwhelming sensation of heat and pain to pour into the entirety of her body. Then came the awful dislocation of her shoulder, a trick they've done often enough that she knew the process but was never fully prepared for the hurt it caused. All at once she was attacked, the pooling of blood spilling from her lips and nose colored her pale body while she struggled against her screams and their invading hands. They know her as well as she knows them, making them prepared to protect themselves against her actions. Through a technique unknown to her she was pressed against the ground by rigid poles, one sticking out of both hands, shoulders, and the small of her back. The seal on her forehead stung before it burned; it was not the pitiful fabric covering her eyes that's protected them all this time, it was the hastily carved sigil on her forehead that kept them alive. They've completely destroyed her hearing, but her eyes are far too valuable to be so harsh on them, so instead of destroying them, they simply locked them away. While she struggled, those who survived the initial attack would rush forth and make a pitiful attempt to stop their attacker. He would recognize them as his enemies, clansmen who all had a hand in the destruction of his own name and people. Men and women Danlim had threatened on countless occasions to kill in his name.
  16. Aleksei

    ARRIVAL III

    She felt his voice quake beneath her groping fingers that had played with the dips and curves of his chest. Beneath the pads of her gentle touch she felt his heart beating, resting, then beat again in a rhythm she's been familiar with for years now. Slowly she withdrew, her hand sliding away from his chest and her leg disconnecting from his torso, leaving with only the memories of his warmth and beating heart. She felt disjointed somehow, as if the world under her feet is at a constant tip and she constantly making efforts to stay adjusted. Though she wondered why, she knew at her very core the reason and simply chose to ignore it. While intuition is sharp as a blade, slicing through any and all disagreeable thoughts, she lacked the tact to thrust the weapon in her hands. They argued barely, but when they did they were mean, fierce, and terse; such an air of attitude is unnecessary when things have been so well. For a moment she found herself lost beneath his dark gaze, which caused her to smile before giving a languid stretch. Their little journey had been a pleasant departure from the cold and steel of their home, allowing them to return to a more simplistic time. It made her feel less out of place - sort of. Sitting up, she turned and looked down at her husband, her smile still in place but her gaze somewhere else other than this moment. "Guess that means we must make ourselves presentable, unless you plan on arriving in all your glory." She teased him before pressing a kiss on his cheek and then slithering over him to stand up. Her toes curled against the rocking of the sailing ship, and her eyes adjusted to the dimness that enveloped their humble quarters. He was not incorrect: Leoa loved to be extravagant. Perhaps it is simply because of who she is, a woman of pride and passion that encompases all that she does. Or maybe it was just the availability of Corvin's endless pocket that made it far too easy to fall in love with silks and lace. Maybe. A knock on their door disrupted their comfortable silence. After the disruption, a woman aging like the finest of wines opens the door and steps into the room as if she were the owner of it. Both absolutely used to the elderly lady taking charge, neither took offense or said anything of it - unless they wished to be on the pointed tip of her well practiced glare. Without a word, the proclaimed maid went directly to Leoa's wardrobe and began to filter through the abundant choices. Leoa sat at her vanity, a robe of silk draped around her person. While waiting for her attire, she went about the long process of brushing the tangles from her long hair until it crackled and sparkled like melted gold. "I expect manners from you today." She looked at Corvius through her mirror while her maid hurried to begin the process of pinning Leoa's curls atop her head in an elaborate fashion. Aged fingers were gentle and nimble, as if they have done their entire lives and had to think little about their actions. "No running away with vampi-" A thought crossed her mind when Edith secured the last pin. Why the process made the Empress stop and realize is beyond reasoning, but it did and quickly she turned in her seat with a hefty glare covering emerald eyes. "Raphael has proven himself to be a gentleman, but you," she waved a well manicured finger accusingly at the man she calls husband, "are an ass. I know Irene has a love for horses, leaving me to assume that she has them running wild on her land. You take me near one, a herd, a half, whatever amount and I'll slice you." Her maid gave a wane smile, thinking the threat rather subdued in comparison to some of the more vile things Leoa has said to her husband in the past. She turned to grab Leoa’s chosen dress, all the while she showed her aged smile towards the dark Emporer who is now fully accustomed to his wife's meanness. Not needing Edith to help her with her undergarmets and jewelry, Leoa took the opportunity to pick those pieces out by herself. The necklace was a gift probably from Corvinus or probably from the man who bakes their bread, she isn't exactly sure but she doesn't love it any less. The emeralds were cut beautifully to reflect their perfect quality; the diamonds had been polished till they glowed, accentuating their partnering emeralds with fashion. With perfect timing, her maid moved forward and helped her Empress slip into an extremely simplistic gown with large sleeves and a plunging neckline. Something a little different considering their visit isn't political and more of a leisure type stop. Choosing to appear more casual but not wanting to disrespect the wealth and title Corvinus has given her, Leoa put more of herself in her jewlery. Completing her look was a crown that matched her necklace; atop her curls it sat and would stay once Edith secured it into place. "I wonder how much has changed since the last time we were here." Her answer would be much, or perhaps nothing at all? While her last visit here had been just a brief visit, she could remember the warmth and the general splendor of Orisia. When they departed their ship and to the outside world, the Empress lifted her nose to the sky, taking in the scent of freshness. There has been change, and the island has acclimated to it all, leaving it as lovely and bright as before. This is a place she can appreciate, with its fresh earth and clean skies. The collection of people would be met with a smile from Leoa, her arm tucked in the bend of Corvin's arm in his ever possessive manner. It was good to have her in his hold, as she is a very curious creature she would have bounded down to meet the lovely birds so prettily decorated. She knows such manner could be seen as strange and inappropriate for a Empress, but the title can't bind the woman down from being what she naturally is. When the women reached for Leoa's hair, she obliged by shaking her curls from their pins, allowing the mass of gold to spill down to her waist (sorry Edith). Their warmth soothed her, and she used that to also anchor her to the ground. This change to their usual ways made her feel a little less unhinged and strange, allowing her a freedom she hasn't felt for a bit since their wedding. "Believe me, I'd rather have it down." She calmed one of the lovely ladies, noting their distress to her shaking her curls free. If they wished they could always take the time to brush it themselves, something she's always found tedious due to its length but Corvinus enjoyed her hair long, and who is she to deny him such simple pleasures?
  17. Perhaps it's the lions blood in her veins that kept her approach warm and welcoming, with only a subtle hint of coldness tainting the earth beneath her gentle steps - perhaps that's the work of the raven. Dark boots sunk into the sun-kissed sand, warming ankles to toes with summers welcome; salty strands of charcoal hair shaped a youthful face harboring large black eyes and lush lips trained to smile readily. She is colored dark like her father, that they will tell instantly, but she is shaped like her mother - long legged, lithe, and impossibly warm. And there she stood above them, hands on hips, impractically lovely and foreboding. “I assume a lesson has been learned here.” Her attention first found Lodran; angry eyes searched his face in a sluggish pace. “Such a weapon should never, ever be used against a fellow SoulSeeker, let alone a denizen of Kadia. Shame on you!” Olympia wore her emotions clearly on her face and in her voice. The youngest of all her siblings, she has mastered the voice as she is often at the receiving end of such punishment. Young and often impetuous, Oly is no stranger to being reprimanded. Next she found Camus, who had remarked on the lack of wind before checking on his partner while recovering from his wounds. She wasn't sure if she should admire his will or not. “And you, be a little more forthcoming - he could have killed you.” Olympia found that it is easier to say what is on your mind instead of locking your words away. While she could have been softer and perhaps a little less brisk, she could also be a little harsher and colder. Pragmatic perhaps, though she hasn't the skill to be a leader, thus she is no wordsmith that would sway her fellow comrades to think about their shortcomings in a manner of prose. Instead she aimed for the heart.
  18. There was the sting of salt and the grit of dirt digging into the scraps and cuts littering the small expanse of her body. Those small things she can still feel, but the heaviness and their hatefulness are lost to her, just like many other things are lost to her. Beyond the stone walls that have imprisoned her for the last however many years she knows there’s water and she knows that there’s a beach and she knows there are birds, waterlife, and a rising sun. The seals covering her eyes kept the darkness in and the light out; the shackles binding her wrists and ankles dug into her flesh, keeping her awake and aware that there’s still blood coursing through her veins. They’ve made sure to the take the simplest of pleasures away from her, like the sunlight and natural darkness, like taste and most of her feelings, leaving only memory and natural awareness to keep her grounded with the knowledge that she is not a puppet - human, still. Outside her rocky door stood an army of men and women bound by secrecy to keep their prisoner secure and alive. Many times she has fallen victim to the pain of her imprisonment, leaving her scarred wrists and arms to tell the tale of her weaknesses. What was living, though, when bound by seals and chains? What did it matter when what little you had was taken from you? While revenge is a dish, it’s not one to sustain life. Her hair shaped a dark curtain around her pale face as she leaned forward (nose touching the cold stone floor) with legs curled underneath her. They kept her naked, fearing that she will use anything she can get her hands on to help with her escape - they’re not wrong. After dwelling on her loses, losing her will to live and then regaining, she found herself increasingly angry and volatile. After many attempts of escaping, they have learned to keep her locked away with nothing but her thoughts to keep her occupied. Something was wrong though. While drowned beneath a heavy influence that dampens her own abilities, she can still feel a change in the thick air. The large army beyond her reach shivers and quakes and paces for a reason she is most uncertain of. All the fear in the world died when he did, so there is no reason for them to be so. Danlim knows well enough they fear her enough to not kill her, that would mean no shackles and no seals to keep her bound tightly, them safe. In comparison to the deceased, she is nothing but a nuisance.
  19. ➔ Kalopsia - land mass that is beneath Renovatio. ❗UPDATES (7/24/18)❗ Rajput Brigade Various positions and characters available! Council of Five Water Court available! the All-Creator ➔ Renovatio ❗UPDATES (7/25/18)❗ Renovatio Landing Page remastered. ❗UPDATES (7/24/18)❗ Avylon remastered PRIME position is available! Nu Martyr remastered PRIME position is available! ✱ Halcyon Event (Renovatio) Completely finish Little Lamb, Elohim, Run, run, run, and Quick Speak. Canonize threads and close event; hand out rewards and titles and such to participants. ✘ Little Lamb (Star: Canopus) ✘ Elohim (Star: Rigel) ✘ Run, Run, Run (Star: Hadar) ✘ (Star: Acrux) ❗ Additional Threads ❗
  20. @Twitterpated @Chappu @Etched in Stone Seo planted her hands against her hips whilst admiring the tavern in it's obviously withering age. Here she had planted the seeds of her future, and it's here her memories are woven into the boards of the floor and the sake cups soaking in the sink. Scattered at her bare feet are the remnants of a past that has dripped by her sluggishly; dirt, leaves, the coming of autumn were distinctive in their color and make. I bet your name is ... A patron stepping onto the porch of the tavern broke her chain of thought, forcing her back to the realms of reality. The memory found her often, especially when she is caught admiring her little humble beginnings. There hadn't been enough time to thank him and he has never returned since then, leaving her to often thank the memory of the man who could see without seeing. Perhaps one day he will find himself at his table, asking for the Firelord Sake (they haven't served it since that day), asking her to join him for a drink. “They’re ready.” The small woman nodded and waved away the waitress, who was more than happy to mold into the shadows. Today is supposed to be auspicious - she will be the judge of that. Gathering her courage, she stepped back into the quiet tavern that is dimly light due to the fading candles stuck in various corners. Tables lined with various colorful pillows are all polished till they nearly gleam in the flickering candle light; only four customers occupied the establishment, along with a small scattering of waitresses and waiters. It was quiet, comfortable, and a perfect day for talks and negotiations. The dark haired woman sat at the table set further to the back of the tavern, giving them some semblance of privacy that had been asked for. Sitting directly in front of her is a woman wearing a iron mask and next to her is another woman who appeared far too lush to be inside such a dark tavern. Neither of them spoke, not that they had to, Seo is not involved in their business and is just here to ensure all goes smoothly - whatever that all is. Simply providing them a place to discuss things and stuff, she remains on the outside of their dark world. They remind her of the groups of men and women who often occupy the tables for gambling and drinking. All of them are usually deep into conversation about something or another that involves killing something, someone, or taking something from someone. She assumes these two women are here for something akin to that, and their company will be the one providing the tinder to their needed fire. Hopefully - and one can only hope - she will not be caught between blows.
  21. Aleksei

    The Calling

    @Echo Myrlande took refuge under the small withering tree that’s some how withstood the test of time. Sweat streaked the sharpness of her jaw and the taste of it coated the inside of her mouth. Above her dark head the sun hung high, surrounded by nothing but clear blue skies; not a cloud to be seen for miles and miles. If this was anywhere but the Velhatien Desert, it may be considered the perfect day; clear skies, warm weather, not a breeze to be found - just perfect. Unfortunately, this is Valhatien, a place where none goes unless they have business to take care of, and in this case she does. Wiping her brow one last time, the women stood up, slapped the sand off her person, and resumed her trek into the desert. The small oasis had been a welcome reprieve, though she could have gone a bit longer without having to stop, she was thankful for the minute break. Able to restock on water and gather her thoughts, the women felt refreshed stepping back into the blazing sun. Her destination: anything abandoned; estimated time of arrival: any time. The only thing guiding her is a strange mixture of intuition and a sprinkling of knowledge she was able to procure. Some would see this as some kind of fools errand, but Myrlande saw this as an opportunity that'll open the door to many, many things. In order to get somewhere in this dirty world one must get a little dirty themselves, and she is more than willing to play her cards, put them all on the table, and enter the game. And that's why she is here. Each step brought her closer and closer to her final destination. As the sun began to dip behind the smooth horizon, she felt something warm click inside her chest and expand through every nerve, every bit of tissue and muscle. Close, it whispered against her skin. Soon, it yelled into her eager ear. And it was not wrong, for just over a golden hill of sand she saw broken pillars jutting from bits of greenery that desperately needed water and shade. And that's where she begins. Lavender eyes glistened with excitement as they took in the area of sand, greenery, dilapidated ruins - perfect. The smile painting her lush lips said more than what words could properly describe, and the eagerness in her movements painted a picture of extreme excitement. This is where intuition has brought her, this is where all good things will come to fruition. No circles were drawn, no chants were spoken - she is far too proud for such things. Instead she planted her knees into the ground, forcing bits of herself into the sandy earth while thrusting a timid tune into the air by humming. The runes carved into her dark skin began to glow a deep violet the more she became one with the earth beneath her. Palms to the air, humming becoming stronger, heavier, needier. The Witch Doctor is forcing her way into the outer realms lingering beyond the crust of the living and dead. A beacon of lavender light she glowed for the evils floating in the various realms beyond this one; beckoning them forth she demanded an audience with him.
  22. Aleksei

    Good Ol' Days

    What a disgusting, revolting, colorful display. There it was, just sitting peacefully in the southwestern part of Cosanastre (the very first city founded, just for your information), glittering like a well polished crystal and singing it's siren's song: the Cathedral. Ah yes, today the bells tolled, beckoning different sorts of worshippers to its freely dusted halls and oiled pews. Today these worshippers find themselves praying to the gods of green and gold; the reverent prayers whispering through the the beating heart of the Cathedral. Serge bunting decorated the outside of the Cathedral turned gambling hall, enticing anyone and everyone to come inside and enjoy the raucous going on. Matching the exuberant decorations, guests were dressed in peacock colors; several of them, all on one body. The women wore reds, purples and greens. There were checks, stripes, brocades, appliques, and lush embroidery. The men matched the women, if anything, they were far more decorated than their counterparts. Clearly they are all extremely excited for The King’s Feast, an event that has recently been reinstated by the ever illustrious, gracious Ocelot Royce, the High Mason and ruler of Alterion. Inside, trestle table after trestle table bowed underneath the sheer weight of food stuffs. There was a roast boar stuffed with rabbits that were stuffed with partridges - sans trees, unfortunately. Pies of every type covered the white tablecloths. The free-flowing wine, ale, beer, and metheglin added to the already high spirits of the guests. One one table was a large white swan, baked and dressed and then reassembled so that it looked almost alive, every feather repositioned perfectly. It didn’t stick out though, because in the most centered table full of all sorts of seafaring creatures is a ginormous tank with a mermaid swimming inside. A Nymerian, to be more specific. Her dark hair was braided with beads and shells and crystals, akin to the black-blue sky sparkling with polished stars; her tail looked like the expanse of a early morning sky with oranges, reds, blues melting together; from waist up she wore nothing, representing the normal Nymerian wear, showing the lace-like tattoo beneath her breasts. The tattoo on her right arm shimmered with her panic, causing the shapes to appear as if they were moving with each swish of her tail as she swam from one end of the tank to the other. She was one of the many prizes offered for the day's events, and to win her you must be betting on either a group, individual, or a monster itself. All those betting will be put into a drawing to receive the Nymerian, no matter their losses or winnings. In the center of the grouping of tables was an open area. Here jesters danced and sang, people conversed, acrobats cavorted; the noise was tremendous, filling the Cathedral to the brim. And outside is absolutely no better! Anyone who can’t fit inside, found themselves a seat just about anywhere that was safe, mostly the rooftops and a few even made their homes in alleyways (out of harm's way of course). Because these sorts of events always bring out everyone's competitive streak, various household games like poker, go-fish, and whatever else kind of games gamblers contrive in the moment, are scattered around for anyone to join in. The heavier hitters were at their chosen tables with handhelds scattered around them; faces of the competitors and the monsters they're working against flicker across illuminated screens. All are welcome to place bets on either the monster hunters or the monsters, just to add some fun into the whole ordeal. Disgusting, colorful display of celebration and the day has only begun. How to bet: Easy! Everyone put your bets down in your posts and I'll keep track of everything. Anything that has monetary value (weapons, armor, jewelry, monsters of your own, etc.) you can use to bet, so have fun with this! Also reasonable, pleaasse. Once there is a list of items gathered from all people betting, I'll use a randomizer to select who gets what item to make it all fair. So Group A is for Participant AB but group B is against them and are for the monsters; Participant AB wins, so group Bs bets are given to Group A. Games: I don't care if you guys want to play a drunk, drug induced game of hide and seek, have fun! I will be introducing a version of Truth or Dare but with drinking, using a system where I think of a number 1-6, the participants pick a number, and the loser has to drink and then pick Truth or Dare. The dare obviously can't be hella disruptive but I want people to have fun with this and put their characters in awkward positions.
  23. @Alexei Darim tore ferociously at the flowers and their surrounding weeds, not at all minding the dirt underneath her fingernails or the little scratches against the bend of her fingers. The coldness from her annoyance numbed her down to her very bones, making her relentless in her attack against the weed infested garden. Just above her dark head she heard little birds sing their early morning song, a beautiful tune that would put anyone that wasn't Darim in a lighter mood. Her sleep had been too disturbed and her emotions far too turbulent for her to relax. The anger she felt boiling in her chest is new to her and to the people that are closest to the Princess; they found her to be aloof, burning with a madness that you only see in her twin, Nero. The last few days have been a struggle for herself and for her contingent of ladies in waiting, all of which she had excused earlier. While she is aware of her current hatefulness, she hasn't been able to put it aside for a later time. Acknowledging such, she had dismissed her ladies so they no longer have to be at the end of her meanness, and had excused herself from her duties for the rest of her time in Kadia. Blowing at a loose strand of black hair out of her face, Darm leaned back against her haunches with a deep frown marring her sweet face. The fabric of her peach skirt had been tucked and moved off to the side, while the sleeves of her white chiffon shirt had been rolled up to her elbows; it's clear that she hadn't planned on pulling weeds. Her attire had been simple and subdued for the day, showing she had no intentions leaving the castle. Upstairs, in her room, various dresses, gowns, skirts, and other expensive pieces of clothing populated her bed and chairs; jewelry, crowns, shoes, and such were packed in cases for the long, tedious journey back home. Desmond had watched his sister go to war against the weeds. He hadn't meant to lurk in the shadows, but the sight of her angrily going all out against her victims, brows pressed together, lips twisted in a frown, he couldn't bring himself to ruin the sight. The early morning sunlight bounced off the black-blue curls knotted against her nap, and the simple diadem she wore made her look like a pagan goddess in the flesh. He could see why Caelius was smitten with her - him and about half the Kadian Empire. She was a small woman with lush curves, large blue eyes that were welcoming, and a mouth ready to smile, Darim is a prized jewel. Being so is why her brothers coveted her, protected her often, especially Nero who is her twin. The man alone would move mountains for his sibling. "Darim love, please give those weeds some reprieve." He pulled himself out of the shadows to approach her, offering her his hand which she accepted. His presence seemed to sooth the hotness in her veins, making her a bit more agreeable. Hands together he guided her to a stone bench, where he would wait for her to spread her skirts and sit delicately down. How so much anger and confusion can be inside such a small sprite, he will never know and he does not envy Caelius for his eventual meeting with her. She won't be pleased with him, more so than she is now. Setting his cane aside, he sat next to his sister and grabbed her hands in his, forcing her to turn and look at him. He has never been in a position where he's liked someone as much as she likes Cae, and by the looks of her he's absolutely happy he may never have this kind of sickness. She cared, but she must know there are secrets and those secrets are making it extremely difficult for her to understand. "I know you're mad at Caelius, and I'm not going to tell you that you shouldn't be." Was she mad at Caelius? At this point she's not exactly sure if she's mad at him or ... just mad at him, but she is most certainly annoyed. When Desmond held her hands,she clenched her fingers into angry fists that said so much more than what words could ever do. "But there are things you need to understand about him, things that Nero and I can only explain." She looked at him angrily, her spite and annoyance now switched to her siblings. Secrets, it's always with the secrets and how tired of them she is. Cae can trust her, that she has made obvious, or so she has thought. While she is but a small woman with power held only in her crown, she has strength to carry any burden, especially those that plague someone pressed to her heart. "He's a nasty man ..." "How painful was it to say that?" Desmond brushed her cheek with his fingers, his thumb resting on the crest below her eye. Darim is not spiteful, he doubts she knows how to be, so to hear her speak ill of Caelius made her words more fake than they originally would have been. It's obvious she worries about him, that her words only come from her own hurt and anger about a situation she doesn't know about. She looked at him with an apology in her blue eyes, deep and bright with the confusion she has soaked in. "I know you didn't mean it," he wiped away the tear that threatened to fall, "you're just mad at him and you're allowed that."
  24. Petals floating on a whimsy breeze set the atmosphere, delegating the mood of the day with their colorful beauty and bashless charm. The scent of smoke and sea-salt happily mingled with the delicate tint of fresh flowers just beginning to bloom. Banners of red, white, and black float above their heads with immense pride; every trestle table inside and outside were decorated with food stuffs and drinks, so much so it's a wonder they did now bow underneath all the weight. The sight was exotic and otherworldly, a breathtaking picture of perfection as guests filtered into the large campus of Warbrooke. One could say it's a perfect day for a wedding. Guests filtered in and have already begun mingling with one another; a few have started to drink their fill, others ate what they could, and the rest moved to either explore or talk amongst themselves. No matter the choices, the reception was already off to being a wonderful hit! With the freedom to roam the large garden outside Valence Hall and the rest of the campus, everyone was left to feel welcomed and appreciated. Valence Hall is heaving at the seams. The beautiful red stoned building is a simple three stories high, with a fourth set within the roof, 178 feet long and 75 feet wide. The entrance is a deeply recessed semi-circle archway that's been decorated with more flowers and more banners. Low hanging chandeliers added a essence of sophistication; the small classrooms had been cleared and filled with more tables and chairs; the large lecture halls were left open for mingling and other shenanigans. There was anticipation in the air for the newlyweds to arrive. The golden path leading to the front of the Hall had been blocked off with banners intricaly braided and covered in flower petals of all kinds. Some guests lingered on the sides of the banners with drink and food in hand, some even had handfuls of confetti, just aching to throw up in the air once the groom and his bride arrived. Even the little floating orbs danced about in excitment as if they knew what's happening - maybe they did. Just a few more minutes until their arrival. They had said their vows with enthusiam and solidified their nuptuals with a kiss, marking the beginning to a story that's already a few books ahead. Leoa has personally prepared herself for this day years ago, when it was mde clear she would never be leaving his side, but because life is fickle and not all plans are meant to be, this day had been placed on hold - until now. "I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this." Leoa looked at the beautiful ring decorating her slender finger. It wasn't that she felt odd wearing the piece of jewelry or what it stood for, it was what it does. She's always pushed aside the pain and fear she'd felt towards Corvinus, never wanting to punish him for something he had no choice over. It was one of many signs of her absolute love for him. "I didn't think it'd be possible, and yet here we are." The ring completely removed the weariness and pain due to Corvin's influence. At first she had been ecstatic by the beautiful ring, her bridal gift from a loving husband who has put up with her for all these years. But once she put it on, she understood the importance and it had nearly brought her to tears. "And it's not a horse." Vile, horrible, four legged creatures that have no business being alive. Desmond and Nero had teased her that Corvinus was giving her a horse as her bridal gift, and she almost believed them. Yet there's still time to be proven right, and if he so much as teases her about it or mentions anything about the nasty beasts, she'll swiftly divorce him. Horses scare her. No war, no battle, no enemy, and no bug (except maybe spiders) scare her as much as horses do, and she's not exactly sure why. They're huge, they can kick you to death, they're strange looking - honestly she can go on about how much she dislikes them. Thankfully, he is a kind husband and will not ruin his wife's day with his mean humour. Unless he enjoys being kicked in the shins. The Empress smoothed the silk fabric of her black dress, and then casually rearranged the lace edged train. She took great strides to make sure her appearance was perfect, mostly for him, she already knows she's beautiful and graceful and all that nonsense. Her dress is tight and fairly simple with thin straps and a sweetheart cut to the bodice; the lace back and train were the most impressive thing about it. When it came to color, she didn't hesitate. White was her signature tone, but she's a bride to a man who prefers things darker and more subdued. They are a pair, with Leoa obviously being the more extravagant. Atop her curled hair is a crown of white poppy flowers, and across her shoulders and chest is a epaulet of dropped diamonds. The crown is a gift from her daughters and the diamonds are from her sons, things that will be cherished forever and ever. "Ah, I think we're here." Emerald hues glittered with excitement as they took in the crowd just outside the window.
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