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Pasion Pasiva

-=Walking in a Winter Wonderland=-

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No longer would the dwarves stay shut inside their cities in fear. The age of isolation has ended, and now the age of expansion was upon them. A golden age of revival to bring the dwarves back from the brink of destruction and into the forefront of the world.

This is the time of renaissance.

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Striding into the alternate entrance, two dwarves entered the throne room, one older dwarf male, and one young dwarf female. Looking around the room before them as they took in the sites, the older one gave a chuckle, smiling as he looked around. "Aye, this is certainly a beautiful sight, that it is. I was worried we would miss the first snowfall back at Tazarek, now it looks as if it has come to us."

Gerrak Vokegarren was an old dwarf by most standards, having reached his three hundred and thirtieth year some months ago. Age had been eroding away much of his body, but his mind stayed sharp as ever, for it was his greatest tool in his profession. The carefully chosen words of a diplomat could make nations, or cause them ruin. Representing not only his home city of Tazarek, but all of dwarvenkind in a sense.

"Come now, Serta, there is no need for your fussing. Enjoy the sights, the people. We are across the ocean to another land!" It was clear the event was quite exciting for the older dwarf,  but the woman couldn't help but feel out of place.

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"I'm fine." Serta said, fidgeting with herself a little as she surveyed the room. There were so many Tall Ones here, she wished she was back home with her own people. All her life she wanted to be a diplomat, yet now on her first real diplomatic endeavor, she was dreading every step required to go forward. Absently she played with her hair, wishing they could just go back home.

"What are we even hoping to accomplish here? Why do we need to try and spread out so much on the globe?" Home was safer, inside the walls and the mountain, where no one could hurt you as long as they were on the outside.

They stopped where they were, Gerrak took both of her hands into his, staring deep into her eyes as he did so. "He can't hurt you anymore, Serta. Everything is going to be all right." In his eyes she could see the truth, but the scars still pained her, and she turned away from his attempts to soothe her anxiety.

Snow began to fall, and the dwarves were reminded once more of their duty. "Lets just please go find the Queen, Gerrak, so we can be done with this." Melted snowflakes mixed with the tears on her face, the dwarf woman wiping her face with a cloth before they continued.

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"Hmm. This must be the place."

The exterior of the castle itself was, in Magnolia's eyes, impressive. It seemed sturdy enough, and if needed to it looked like a good place to hold out in case of an attack. Of course, she was not here for anything even slightly related to warfare; in fact, she was actually here to enjoy herself. There was to be a coronation taking place, and she was 'persuaded' to attend the joyous ceremony. And by 'persuaded', she meant 'was basically forced to take time off because it had been a while since she had done so', but 'twas fine. She'd enjoy the festivities for a time before returning home.

She made her way through the main entrance with all the commoners, noting however that there might have been another entrance somewhere else due to seeing some more important looking individuals spread around the throne room. She mentally noted to generally avoid them, as she was here to relax and see the new Queen, not to see or hear the powerful and wealthy gloat about political topics. Such things were...beneath her, at least for today.

People seemed to be dressed in their best attire, from fancy to slightly more wearable. It appeared to show that the citizens of Orisia held their new Queen in a positive light, which was good because from the little she had read and heard of the place the last guy was...well, he wasn't exactly the greatest person. And as for Magnolia's attire, well, it was the same as always. She may have been off-duty, but she was still armored and carried all three of her swords with her. 'Negotiator' was visible as it was strapped to her back, while her other two were hidden from view under her cloak. She did not expect for there to be any trouble, but if so, she believed that it would not be of mortal ties. And, with her attire being somewhat out of place at such a gathering, she doubted anyone would really want to approach her, if only to inquire on either her choice of clothing or her occupation.

She made her way towards the throne, her eyes constantly viewing the entirety of the throne room and it's decor. Winter themed, huh? She found a slight smile creeping upon her face. While it wasn't very common here, back in the Cold South this type of weather was the norm, and so were monsters. But here, it seemed very temperate for now. She silently cursed herself for not doing more research on Orisia, but this was a short notice trip, and she was not sufficiently prepared to undertake it. Regardless, she was here now so she would have to make due with what knowledge she had.

And before she had made her way towards the throne in order to gain a short audience with the Queen, it...started snowing?

"Snow?" She would look up, and note that it had indeed been snow falling from above. It wasn't naturally from the sky or anything, but snow was snow. "I just hope this doesn't get anyone sick or something..."

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A dainty palm upturned, reached out and up to catch a snowflake lazily drifting down. It fell in that quiet reverence that snow did, and it blanketed the ground. Raveena was slim and lovely, sweetly shaped. She looked up with wondrous eyes at the snow that fell in awe before turning her restless hazel eyes to the crowd and smiling sweetly.

She was sheathed in gold and blush, a flare of soft pink chiffon sweeping around her legs. Like most events, she opted not to wear heels and chose the comfort of cushioned slippers instead. Perched at her crown were the Laurels of Alethea, the wreath of gold glinting beautifully in the light it caught. Her dark waves tumbled loosely, cascading over her shoulders—and it too was sprinkled with flakes of snow.

Raveena sighed, and no breath of cold air came. She was happy. Happy to hear the Black Queen alive and well. Happy to see her take back the throne from her son. Happy to be alive to see such a lovely arrangement. Her smiled faded to one of content, her hand falling to her side. The weeks had been long, and so too had her journey from Kadia. She felt weary from so much traveling, for she had come straight from Port Caelum as a guest at Xartia’s estate, where his staff had graciously assisted her in choosing the evening’s fashionable look. Just as well, she thought. Xartia would have chosen something like this for me. And she smiled inwardly.

The truth was, she was extremely tired.

The past three weeks had been a blur, a vague recollection she stumbled through. One moment, she is confronting Koji, the next she’s in the arms of her very own Rowan Knight.

One moment she is consoling a lovely Empress. The next she is laying on the ice-crusted pavers of the Kadian gardens, bleeding to death.

One moment she’s dreaming of death, and the next she’s awake on a boat making way to Port Caelum.

One instant she was docking in Port Caelum, and now—here she was.

She wanted to be present on principle. She was still a Lord of the Carmine Empire, and she wished to show the Gabriela and Raphael her solidarity as an ally. She wanted to see the Black Queen for her own eyes and verify she and her child were alive and well. As the target of an assassination attempt, neither woman had a chance to understand what happened to the other.

Rowan was present. Scowling and lurking in the shadows as he so often did at such an event. It was less that he was working—for he dissolved that contract to keep her as his charge—and more that he was uncomfortable with the number of vampires present. He was armed and charmed, vanishing into the crowd as he so often did when he wanted to scope out the company before returning to her side.

Raveena sighed a tired sigh. She was sure despite her own radiant appearance that some would notice the sag of her shoulders, the dark circles from lack of sleep, the smile that would not quite reach her eyes as if often would. Over the snow she would tread, marveling that it did not chill her. Children of guests threw handfuls of the stuff at one another, and it seemed to glitter magically in the throne room. She watched their pure, unbridled joy, and the joy and happiness of Gabriela’s guests are they allowed their own inner children to play. It as a comforting sight in the wake of the war-ravaged city.

Snowmen dressed dapperly. Pearls that glinted in the warmth of light. Raveena was offered a scarf and mittens—a lovely white that matched the softness of her pink and gold. She paused in her stride and leaned down, scooping up handfuls of snow before tossing it up into the air like confetti—and she couldn’t help but laugh.

She requested a warm drink of hot chocolate, as she had no desire or taste for alcohol and was quickly obliged. Rooting around the hundreds of guests, Raveena found a column that was beautifully bound in those pearls and lights, which gave her own dress an ethereally warm glow, and watched the crowds while she paused to rest herself. She smiled into her drink, her restless eyes roaming and only truly smiling when she saw the Black Queen on her dais, dutifully watching the party unfold before her.

In time, she would make her way and greet, for now she was simply a guest that adjusted to the magnificence and majesty of the occasion.

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The inevitable end of yet another year rapidly approached. Subjectively, a year really wasn't a long time at all. With that in mind, one often found themselves wondering how so much could happen in so little time. This year had been one hell of a roller-coaster, emotionally, mentally, physically...In any way the word could apply really. It all started approximately a year ago, when Predator's Keep had been invaded by a familiar enemy to Him. No...When Koji had revealed himself to the world, and released his intentions from the very start. That was the truest beginning point of the past years account. Up to date, the entire year to follow had literally turned out to be increasingly worse as it continued. From saving dear friends, to surviving a magestorm bolt in which resulted in his brief coma of three months. To the disappearance and word of murder being reputed in regards to one that He actually cared for more than most. More than most even knew. It was not all grief and misfortune however. He had been granted Regency over Port Caelum, courtesy of the Scarlet Queen, and of the Carmine Empire by extension. His plans of development in the city were on the up and up, as well as his personal plans of development in regards to things surrounding business and education. He was beginning to finally find a new sense of normalcy that seemed long overdue. In particular however, it would appear that there was in fact one last thing for him to be grateful for during this season of reflection. Perhaps He was even most grateful for...Her.

"C'mon, if you don't hurry we're going to be late."

He pleaded with Her as he found himself pacing too and fro outside of her temporary quarters aboard His private airship. Seemingly He was already prepared for the evenings festivities. Dressed formally in a white tux boasting some awkward yet pleasing embroidery of some sort. His handkerchief folded perfectly into his breast pocket trimmed with gold, and his white tie accented with it's own design of gold embroidery. His slacks matched the pattern of his suit jacket, and his shirt matched the tone of each respectively as well as the white of the tie. Hugging his feet were a pair of golden dress shoes that could only fit him perfectly, topped off with a straight laced fashion. In his right hand he gripped polished wood-grain cane, tipped with a gold band at it's bottom that matched the gold knob of it that was uniquely shaped into the likeliness of a great horned ram. His long black waves of hair was "styled" to his usual preference, slightly ruffled and unkempt. Left to hang naturally of it's own accord. His olive toned complexion really popped with the golden accented suit of white. Likewise, his Emerald green eyes shimmered with new found life. Though certainly it wasn't a byproduct to his having had the courtesy of being infected by one of the Loup Garou variety. 

"Of course it's always cool to be fashionably late, I just don't want to be late late."


The Beautiful and The Damned ~

After a short while they were finally ready to depart. He escorted her by extension of the crook of his left arm. Together they walked, nearly in perfect harmony. For a story that had happened quite a few times before, only to prove to have the same ending every time, this time felt different. It was different. He had learned just how easy it was to lose something one held dear or in high regard. The old saying goes "You never know what you've got until it's gone", and for the first time in his life it would seem that He was reminded of just how true that was. Truth be told, the pain of this loss, even the thought of it was something that paled in comparison to the loss suffered of an entire Kingdom beneath His reign. This was a loss that rivaled that of His Brother's even, and that spoke leagues to those that knew him. In that sobering moment when He had thought He had lost Her forever, He was reminded of his first and last wife. Reminded of the pain endured by her loss. Simply put, the feeling was not the same as it had been for Luna. And to him that meant one terrible truth. He didn't love her. He maybe never did. He loved the idea of her. However, what He had experienced with Katherine was real, it was unique. Somehow, despite all that had happened so wrong between them, He found Himself feeling the way he did then. Not only was this terrifying, but at the same time it was invigorating. Motivational.

Reaching a rather extravagant looking car that too was painted white that matched them perfectly, and by pure chance at that. He almost purchased the ride in black. Relinquishing Her, He opened the passenger side door for Her before taking Her hand and helping Her into her seat. Thanks to the inspiration of mood and his current attire, He couldn't help but move to his side of the car by sliding across the hood in a suave, showboating manner. Chuckling with a cheeky grin, he would open his own door on the driver side and enter the vehicle himself. With the door shut he would secure his safety belt, only to check and be certain she had did just the same thing. Once they were ready, He pushed the ignition switch. With a muffled rumble, the magitech engine revved to life, only to dull into a hum that could barely be heard. Well, barely heard by most. His newer, more enhanced senses were still a bit daunting and took some getting use to, but thanks to that herb he had been stuffing into his pipe he had found some relief. 

"Let's do it."

He said with another glance at her. Turning his emerald gaze ahead once more, he would first convert the obvious land vehicle into it's modified flight mode. This was followed by a switch being activated to open the dock door, allowing them a breathtaking sky top view of the beautiful land of Orisia. More specifically, the Capital City of Versilla. The smell of smoke and ash quickly hit his nose. Regardless of how distracting it wished to be, he simply wouldn't let anything ruin his mood. Their night. Shifting the engine into gear, he pressed his foot onto the accelerator petal with gradually increasing pressure. The car, jet hybrid vehicle would initially roll down the dock at a slope that would naturally drop them in a manner that wouldn't be disorienting of nauseating. In a downward arch they would find their target altitude as the got to target speed. Retracting the landing gear, the engines continued to push more and more, increasing their velocity to approximately 75 mph. 

"Allow me to be the first to tell you how brilliant you look this eve. Absolutely stunning darling."

@Akako Akari

Edited by Twitterpated

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Whispers and boisterous gossip had trickled throughout the harrowing corridors of Patia, inevitably reaching the attention of an organization in its infancy. The desperate need for nourishment, an occasionally blinding force of motivation, steered some of their focus toward this exact ceremony. To feast upon the husks of the ambitious and channel their folly into something worthy could prove to be the catalyst of immense growth. This trajectory of thought was what drove this ancient being here disguised as a behemoth knight with Lunara juxtaposed with him, ready to withstand the obsessive opulence of all of these cretins and mold their ignorance into a structure he would use to ascend along with those who decided to accompany him.

 

Due to Terrenus’ lack of reliable transportation, the commitment displayed by anyone to travel from that volatile area on such short notice deserved respect. To journey great lengths to honor the Black Queen on such short notice demanded at least an audience with the Orisian ruler right? It was this sort of entitlement that would lead to this mission’s failure. Agony set his expectations low and would much rather remain unnoticed by the Orisians as well as anyone who had come to tug at the queen’s attentions. The task, however, would be nigh impossible to achieve given his stature and the comfort of the woman that had entered with him. It was important to enter with a form that had never been seen before. Though his current legacy within Terrenus was but a fleeting whisper, the ‘Blob of Patia’ was a moniker with enough detail to doom him should he not have entered as he did to this coronation.

 

The inevitable separation that events like this caused based on fortunes and extravagance made access to the fodder in the private areas more difficult than it should have been. Had it not been for the artistic abilities of several of his partners in masking his entire mass composed of an almost primordial black tar he would never have convinced those that safeguarded these private areas to allow him and his companion to move around with such ease. Dark supple flesh, an amalgamation of hopeless victims, flawlessly housed him and made him look like a middle aged human by at least the standards of Genesaris. Dark hair covered much of his face and lustrous armor distracted from any subtle struggles he had maintaining this form. The armor also concealed the fact that this flesh was nothing but a combination of a variety of complexions that would evince it was nothing more than a shell. With silver accents creating a much needed distinction from the Orisian black knights that monitored the area, Agony would not be mistaken for just another cog in this regal machine. Scaling at nearly 8 and a half feet, this ‘abomination’ roughly traversed the throne room but stopped immediately to briefly look at Lunara as the speed with which he moved suggested he might not have entered with her at all. A brief flicker of crimson could be seen through the wall of dark follicles that swayed as he moved to look at her, standing as if he was waiting for her to approach.

 

While he did, his head would shift to look at the innocence of the child enraptured by the theme of this celebration and its effects on those around him. Any offers of scarves or mittens would be met with silence, creating a somewhat awkward scenario for the plethora of servants weaving in and out of this area but nothing that would warrant any retaliation. The snow that fell melted along his black armor, at times resting upon his shoulder length hair before it melted. Reconnoitering the area, he noticed the odd mix of vampire-like beings and humans coexisting and joining together in discussions about their excitement for this grand occasion. Discarding his mild interest, he shifted to see the four knights surrounding the black dais taking note of how decorated their armor intensely, taking note of all of the fine details that were visible to him. A brief glance was also given to Serta and Gerrak solely because their dwarven appearance enticed his appetite. What interesting morsels they could be. The armored Magnolia caught his eye only because they held a similar theme of attire and he casually wondered if she too hid something beneath that vibrant flesh.

 

Raveena produced a more visceral response from Agony, her lithe body triggering his attention. The fact that she looked burdened by a growing fatigue only enticed him further. It wasn’t until she leaned down a few feet away from him, arching her form in a way that accentuated her features that the massive knight shifted and crimson eyes glazed over every contour before returning to someone far more important: Lunara. A deep baritone rumbled out of a cavernous throat to address the disguised faerie. “We must not forget why we are here.”

Edited by Vehement Agony

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It was barely a day after she had returned and already she was set to make a public appearance. It was exhausting, however, Xartia had been sure to explain the reason behind it and so she conceded to his eager request. There was obviously another motive for him wanting her to attend this gathering she had to admit, the man was certainly persistent. Akako reasoned that this wouldn’t simply help their Queen, but she would also be paying the Cambion back for services rendered in her resurrection. In any case, she wouldn’t refuse. Red was put between a rock and a hard place with the ongoing investigation of the daiyokai’s alleged murder and so Xartia suggested she attend the Black Queen’s coronation to show everyone that she was alive and well. The latter part of that wasn’t entirely true, she was still very weak, but it would be difficult to tell with all the commotion.

Sitting before the vanity, Akako finished applying the last touches of the gold that lined her upper lip. Her eyes were lined with black, copper, and gold and her cheek bones highlighted into sharp angles. Her makeup had a hint of tribal with the white markings at her temples and the line down her chin. It only emphasized that she was a wild animal at heart. The unique application of makeup would make her more notable than her other more prominent features such as her long white hair that shimmered gold which had been pulled back into an elegant up-do.

"C'mon, if you don't hurry we're going to be late." His voice was muffled through the door, however the vixen’s ears twitched ever so slightly as she glanced up to the door. She could hear the shuffling of his shoes as he paced and her lips quirked into a gentle smile before she placed her makeup brush back onto the vanity.

“Patience… “, she replied with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Gathering herself from her seat at the vanity, she crossed the room with the muffled thud of her heels on carpet. The door opened and Akako stood on the other side of the threshold dressed in white lace and chiffon. She was decorated in gold accents from the cuffs on her upper arms to the intricate ear cuffs that dangled to her neck. Akako didn’t look quite as she once had. In her current form, her eyes were gold with no pupil that one could see, however she certainly wasn’t blind. White plush fox ears were perched atop her head and faced forward to focus on the Cambion while all nine of her tail swished idly.

“We will not be… late-late, as you say. This One is never late… simply on time by my standards.” The woman then walked out of the room with a flourish and breezed by him to allow him to scramble after her as he had always done.

______________________

Resting her hand on the crook of his arm, Akako walked in silence at his side. With her preferred mode of transportation temporarily off limits, the woman had agreed to riding in a motor vehicle. It wasn’t her first time; however she had never been a fan. From afar they were magical and look interesting enough, however the smell and noise of them was grating. Xartia had promised that this particular “car” was different and wouldn’t offend her senses. Akako was a skeptic, but relented and allowed him to do as he pleased. She hadn’t enough energy to argue or use her magic to walk them through the Void. Little did she know that she had lost that ability with her death. She would find out soon enough…

While watching Xartia slide across the front of his car like a child, Akako’s mind wandered to the things she had discovered when she was awoken. The first and most alarming was the Cambion’s current state. His scent nearly had her crawl out of her own skin. He was an animal now, like her, yet very different. A dog by her standards and it was highly unpleasant. Fortunately, since their return to his estate he had been smoking herbs to lessen the condition. Her nose wrinkled as he slid into the seat beside her and closed the distance. Her golden gaze shifted to look at him with a mellowed disdain. How could he allow such a stupid thing to happen?

With an exasperated sigh, the vixen shifted in her seat looked out her window with an impassive expression. They were flying and Akako found herself fascinated that technology had come far enough for this machinery to be able to defy gravity. Of course, it was magitech and as a magic user herself, she knew the capacity for the supernatural. Even so, it was still impressive and she found herself smiling slightly as the world continued to pass her by at a blinding speed.

Xartia’s voice drew her from her reverie and she turned her had to look in his direction. She almost quipped back that she knew that she looked brilliant, but instead returned the kindness which wasn’t like her. “You look mighty dapper this evening as well, Lord Xartia.” Amusement danced in her tired eyes as she looked at him a moment longer before returning her focus on the scenery. She had to give it to him. His energy was cradling her broken yoki giving her a chance to heal. It was a neon green color that wrapped itself delicately around bruised gold and silver. Her yoki was an ember in comparison to what was a roaring flame before what Koji and Kimi had done to her. It wasn’t something to linger on in the moment, but she constantly looked within herself to check the progress of healing especially with a foreign energy lurking around in her.

“Thank you…” Akako turned to look at the man beside her again and her expression was a bit more solemn. This wasn’t the first time that she thanked him, but somehow it didn’t seem to be enough.

 

@Twitterpated

Edited by Akako Akari
Formatting

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Random Narrator's Post
Sometime before the event...

There was a small army of servants -- men and women, ranging in age from blooming young adult to stone-jawed elder. For them, service was a calling and the chance to work inside the DuGrace Castle was the epitome of all of their hard work and training. They came in different shapes and sizes, but one thing they all shared was their impeccable appearance. The men were dressed in sharp black trousers, short black coats, and white button down shirts, while the women wore similar outfits save for the knee-length pencil skirts that replaced the pants. There was perhaps a hundred and fifty of them, if not more. And at the head of them, as they all stood at attention in neat rows, was an older gentleman and a woman of similar age by his side.

 

Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were the longest serving members of the royal household, which didn’t really amount to much being that the DuGrace monarchy was only six years old. They had, however, been in in service for the longest amount of time and had therefore earned their position as the heads of the royal households service team.

 

“Now, although things seemed settled -- Mr. Carson, and I, pray you all remember that you all remember that we are still under examination. While the queen finds it a forgivable offense to have remained under the service of her son even after word of her return, the Emperor Raphael is less trusting,” Mrs Hughes finished her sentence before glancing down at her pocket watch.

 

“He is all but seeking the most minute reason to remove us from our positions and replace us with people from his household. Most of us have all been here from the beginning, so the very idea of abandoning the queen is preposterous, but with the current state of affairs it is all very understandable,” concluded Mr. Carson, though even he didn’t sound quite so convinced.

 

There were some whispers. Most of the people here did not believe it was understandable at all! They had not been privy to the happenings within the royal family, they had not known about Lucis’ betrayal, and they could not have guessed at the ensuing struggle for control that was still sending shockwaves through the capital. They had merely done their job as they always did, and would always continue to do.

 

“There, there -- this isn’t the time or place for boo-hoo’ing. Just do your best, serve the queen faithfully, and treat her guests as is proper and expected and we should have no problems.” Mrs Hughes snapped shut the little golden watch and smiled brightly at the army of servants. Her dark brown hair, speckled with silver strands of age, was pulled up into a neat bun, as was the hair of most of the other women. “It’s time now, go on.”

~*~

On 12/26/2017 at 7:47 AM, Warlock said:

No longer would the dwarves stay shut inside their cities in fear. The age of isolation has ended, and now the age of expansion was upon them. A golden age of revival to bring the dwarves back from the brink of destruction and into the forefront of the world.

This is the time of renaissance.

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Striding into the alternate entrance, two dwarves entered the throne room, one older dwarf male, and one young dwarf female. Looking around the room before them as they took in the sites, the older one gave a chuckle, smiling as he looked around. "Aye, this is certainly a beautiful sight, that it is. I was worried we would miss the first snowfall back at Tazarek, now it looks as if it has come to us."

Gerrak Vokegarren was an old dwarf by most standards, having reached his three hundred and thirtieth year some months ago. Age had been eroding away much of his body, but his mind stayed sharp as ever, for it was his greatest tool in his profession. The carefully chosen words of a diplomat could make nations, or cause them ruin. Representing not only his home city of Tazarek, but all of dwarvenkind in a sense.

"Come now, Serta, there is no need for your fussing. Enjoy the sights, the people. We are across the ocean to another land!" It was clear the event was quite exciting for the older dwarf,  but the woman couldn't help but feel out of place.

c0b8b6f347a0e0f9446f9cb6db4bcdd2--senior

"I'm fine." Serta said, fidgeting with herself a little as she surveyed the room. There were so many Tall Ones here, she wished she was back home with her own people. All her life she wanted to be a diplomat, yet now on her first real diplomatic endeavor, she was dreading every step required to go forward. Absently she played with her hair, wishing they could just go back home.

"What are we even hoping to accomplish here? Why do we need to try and spread out so much on the globe?" Home was safer, inside the walls and the mountain, where no one could hurt you as long as they were on the outside.

They stopped where they were, Gerrak took both of her hands into his, staring deep into her eyes as he did so. "He can't hurt you anymore, Serta. Everything is going to be all right." In his eyes she could see the truth, but the scars still pained her, and she turned away from his attempts to soothe her anxiety.

Snow began to fall, and the dwarves were reminded once more of their duty. "Lets just please go find the Queen, Gerrak, so we can be done with this." Melted snowflakes mixed with the tears on her face, the dwarf woman wiping her face with a cloth before they continued.

Cora

Gerrak and Serta, who were standing very close and speaking very quietly to each other, were approached by a young woman dressed in a black skirt, black coat, and white button down shirt, which was neatly tucked into her skirt. The young woman’s hair was black, but it was pulled back into a neat bun. She held a tray, and upon it there were a collection of elegant champagne flutes, filled nearly to the brim with bubbling golden liquid.

 

“Let's just please go find the Queen, Gerrak, so we can be done with this.”

 

That was the extent of what Cora overhead, and not wishing to miss a chance to prove herself quite useful to the queen’s guests, she spoke up in a cheerful voice.

 

“Lord and Lady, please have a drink while you wait -- the Black Queen is due for her arrival shortly. She will be available all evening, until the moment of her coronation,” Cora lowered her tray and offered drinks to the strange dwarf couple.

 

Orisia was well known for its diversity, but these strange folks were not the sort that Cora had ever seen in her life. Her curious eyes took in the sight of them now, roaming them both up and down as she continued to smile warmly while waiting for the drinks to be either taken or refused.

 

On 12/26/2017 at 10:09 AM, Grim Wolf said:

"Hmm. This must be the place."

The exterior of the castle itself was, in Magnolia's eyes, impressive. It seemed sturdy enough, and if needed to it looked like a good place to hold out in case of an attack. Of course, she was not here for anything even slightly related to warfare; in fact, she was actually here to enjoy herself. There was to be a coronation taking place, and she was 'persuaded' to attend the joyous ceremony. And by 'persuaded', she meant 'was basically forced to take time off because it had been a while since she had done so', but 'twas fine. She'd enjoy the festivities for a time before returning home.

She made her way through the main entrance with all the commoners, noting however that there might have been another entrance somewhere else due to seeing some more important looking individuals spread around the throne room. She mentally noted to generally avoid them, as she was here to relax and see the new Queen, not to see or hear the powerful and wealthy gloat about political topics. Such things were...beneath her, at least for today.

People seemed to be dressed in their best attire, from fancy to slightly more wearable. It appeared to show that the citizens of Orisia held their new Queen in a positive light, which was good because from the little she had read and heard of the place the last guy was...well, he wasn't exactly the greatest person. And as for Magnolia's attire, well, it was the same as always. She may have been off-duty, but she was still armored and carried all three of her swords with her. 'Negotiator' was visible as it was strapped to her back, while her other two were hidden from view under her cloak. She did not expect for there to be any trouble, but if so, she believed that it would not be of mortal ties. And, with her attire being somewhat out of place at such a gathering, she doubted anyone would really want to approach her, if only to inquire on either her choice of clothing or her occupation.

She made her way towards the throne, her eyes constantly viewing the entirety of the throne room and it's decor. Winter themed, huh? She found a slight smile creeping upon her face. While it wasn't very common here, back in the Cold South this type of weather was the norm, and so were monsters. But here, it seemed very temperate for now. She silently cursed herself for not doing more research on Orisia, but this was a short notice trip, and she was not sufficiently prepared to undertake it. Regardless, she was here now so she would have to make due with what knowledge she had.

And before she had made her way towards the throne in order to gain a short audience with the Queen, it...started snowing?

"Snow?" She would look up, and note that it had indeed been snow falling from above. It wasn't naturally from the sky or anything, but snow was snow. "I just hope this doesn't get anyone sick or something..."

 

Some Sexy Knights

Poor, curious Magnolia would not make it into the throne room without some trouble. Unfortunately for her, with her weapons out on full display, she was quickly targeted by a pair of knights who stopped her before she got too close to the empty throne.

 

“I am afraid you’ll have to leave your weapons at the gate, My Lady,” said one of the men, whose face was deeply hidden in the shadows of his helmet and behind his visor. He did not sound particularly rough, and if anything seemed somewhat apologetic. It wasn’t hard to understand the close tie that most people had with their weapons, but unfortunately -- with so many people around they couldn’t afford letting someone waltz around with a plethora of swords on their person.

 

“We are happy to take your swords. They will be waiting for you upon your departure,” said the other man. His visor was pulled aside, and so the handsome outline of his pale face was visible. He was no human -- his jaw was too smooth, his nose too perfect for his face, and his eyes held a luminosity that was somewhat uncanny.

 

Neither of the men extended their hands to take the weapons, or in expectation that she would surrender them. They were as polite as possible, and knew that it was better to leave the choice up to her. She could give up her weapons or she could leave, but the latter was gently implied by their unwillingness to budge from their place, standing in front of her.

 

 

 

 

Edited by Pasion Pasiva

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7 hours ago, Vehement Agony said:

Whispers and boisterous gossip had trickled throughout the harrowing corridors of Patia, inevitably reaching the attention of an organization in its infancy. The desperate need for nourishment, an occasionally blinding force of motivation, steered some of their focus toward this exact ceremony. To feast upon the husks of the ambitious and channel their folly into something worthy could prove to be the catalyst of immense growth. This trajectory of thought was what drove this ancient being here disguised as a behemoth knight with Lunara juxtaposed with him, ready to withstand the obsessive opulence of all of these cretins and mold their ignorance into a structure he would use to ascend along with those who decided to accompany him.

 

Due to Terrenus’ lack of reliable transportation, the commitment displayed by anyone to travel from that volatile area on such short notice deserved respect. To journey great lengths to honor the Black Queen on such short notice demanded at least an audience with the Orisian ruler right? It was this sort of entitlement that would lead to this mission’s failure. Agony set his expectations low and would much rather remain unnoticed by the Orisians as well as anyone who had come to tug at the queen’s attentions. The task, however, would be nigh impossible to achieve given his stature and the comfort of the woman that had entered with him. It was important to enter with a form that had never been seen before. Though his current legacy within Terrenus was but a fleeting whisper, the ‘Blob of Patia’ was a moniker with enough detail to doom him should he not have entered as he did to this coronation.

 

The inevitable separation that events like this caused based on fortunes and extravagance made access to the fodder in the private areas more difficult than it should have been. Had it not been for the artistic abilities of several of his partners in masking his entire mass composed of an almost primordial black tar he would never have convinced those that safeguarded these private areas to allow him and his companion to move around with such ease. Dark supple flesh, an amalgamation of hopeless victims, flawlessly housed him and made him look like a middle aged human by at least the standards of Genesaris. Dark hair covered much of his face and lustrous armor distracted from any subtle struggles he had maintaining this form. The armor also concealed the fact that this flesh was nothing but a combination of a variety of complexions that would evince it was nothing more than a shell. With silver accents creating a much needed distinction from the Orisian black knights that monitored the area, Agony would not be mistaken for just another cog in this regal machine. Scaling at nearly 8 and a half feet, this ‘abomination’ roughly traversed the throne room but stopped immediately to briefly look at Lunara as the speed with which he moved suggested he might not have entered with her at all. A brief flicker of crimson could be seen through the wall of dark follicles that swayed as he moved to look at her, standing as if he was waiting for her to approach.

 

While he did, his head would shift to look at the innocence of the child enraptured by the theme of this celebration and its effects on those around him. Any offers of scarves or mittens would be met with silence, creating a somewhat awkward scenario for the plethora of servants weaving in and out of this area but nothing that would warrant any retaliation. The snow that fell melted along his black armor, at times resting upon his shoulder length hair before it melted. Reconnoitering the area, he noticed the odd mix of vampire-like beings and humans coexisting and joining together in discussions about their excitement for this grand occasion. Discarding his mild interest, he shifted to see the four knights surrounding the black dais taking note of how decorated their armor intensely, taking note of all of the fine details that were visible to him. A brief glance was also given to Serta and Gerrak solely because their dwarven appearance enticed his appetite. What interesting morsels they could be. The armored Magnolia caught his eye only because they held a similar theme of attire and he casually wondered if she too hid something beneath that vibrant flesh.

 

Raveena produced a more visceral response from Agony, her lithe body triggering his attention. The fact that she looked burdened by a growing fatigue only enticed him further. It wasn’t until she leaned down a few feet away from him, arching her form in a way that accentuated her features that the massive knight shifted and crimson eyes glazed over every contour before returning to someone far more important: Lunara. A deep baritone rumbled out of a cavernous throat to address the disguised faerie. “We must not forget why we are here.”

John

None of the women wanted to approach the behemoth of a man that had made his way into the throne room. John of course knew that the knights were making their rounds, collecting weapons and ensuring the event remained a relatively peaceful aspect. They did not expect trouble, although they were rather annoyed that the nobles had been allowed to bring in weapons while those who entered through the common gate were now being hassled about theirs. The two had taken it upon themselves to issue the same command to all -- there were to be no weapons on anyone's person, at least none that were visible. And so, John, who stood a ways back in his sharp black trousers and short black jacket, watched and waited to see if the two knights would approach the monstrous entity known as Agony, who was currently parading in the flesh and blood of some other poor bastard. When he saw that the knights were already busy with someone, he realized that he could no longer postpone his duty as a provider of hospitality.

 

Taking a deep breath and straightening his back, John made his way toward Agony and his much smaller, and lovelier companion, Lunara. It wasn’t until he had entered within the sphere of their immediate attention that he realized he was carrying a tray full of thick, crystal clear mugs of hot chocolate. Each was piping hot and done up with a thick dollop of whipped cream. There were even peppermint sprinkles on top. Somehow, he had forgotten to pick up the tray with the wine glasses instead. But it was too late now, he couldn’t possibly back-away without at least offering.

 

And yet -- it seemed that both Lunara and the massive man by her side, clad in black armor, were busy drinking in the sights of the throne room. For a brief moment, John allowed his bright green gaze to follow suit. There were so many people, and so much sound -- laughter, talking, whispering. He saw that the choir was gathering, two dozen men and women dressed in beautiful white robes trimmed in white fur. They gathered somewhere behind the throne, and soon their angelic voices filled the space above everyone’s heads. Suddenly the magical, but chaotic swirl of falling snow seemed to take on a choreographed effect. Each and every snowflake danced to the sound of their voices as they sang Good King Wenceslas (if you’ve never heard this, please listen -- it’s beautiful!).

 

For a moment the young man was lost to the glory of the scene, which seemed like an utter impossibility. The Black Throne of Orisia was quickly being speckled in white snow, meanwhile, the polished floors were all but covered. There were children running about, and balls of snow were being thrown from one end to the other of the center aisle. And all of that, paired with the sound of singing.

 

The abomination of a man, along with his small companion, were about to move on -- perhaps they had taken notice of the dumb-struck servant who stood there, with his head turned from them. Thankfully he noticed and managed to pull himself together.

 

“So sorry!” exclaimed John as he drew a step closer, “Would either of you like a mug of hot chocolate? It’s not what I intended to offer -- I can go fetch you wine, or perhaps something else to drink? Something to warm you since…” he glanced at Agony’s hands, they were clad in gauntlets and gloves, but it was comical to think the white mittens would ever fit. “Um…I am sorry we don’t have bigger mittens.”

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Vivian DuGrace

Vivian was just about anything but subtle or reserved. She had never been one for the timid, but sexually alluring gowns of the noble ladies of court. She could hardly stand the fluff of taffeta or the translucent beauty of shimmering silk or see through lace. No -- she prefered to be upfront about her intentions to tantalize, and so it was no surprise -- least of all to her husband -- that she came dressed in what most would consider a dress of terribly inappropriate length. And yet she loved it. She loved the looks she got as both men and women turned to watch her walk by. The length of her legs was endless, and the tone muscles and shapely thighs were more tempting in their raw and unsecured magnificence.

 

Hers was a golden thing. A dress that was shorter than her fingertips, and that fell in sharp platelets of gold and silver. It appeared to be made of some kind of set of scales, a textured beauty that offered shimmering gleams of light with every step she took. The deep and plunging neckline of the dress was countered by the full sleeve, that seemed almost like a silly afterthought.

 

She had mixed feelings about coming to this ridiculous affaire. So long as Gabriela lived, Vivian would always see and accept her as the queen of Orisia -- so the whole affaire seems wasteful and idiotic. But then again, she knew that there was a sea of new citizens upon Orisia’s shores. There were many who came fleeing the cruel attacks that bore down on those considered “unnatural” by the Emperor in the Cold South.More than once, she wanted to ask Alazar why the High Lords did nothing, but she resisted the urge less she somehow become responsible for sending her beloved away. Surely the High Lords had some code by which they lived and which affected their interactions in the realm of mortals, and even if she was married to one of them that certainly didn’t mean she was privy to their inner workings. But it did leave her feeling somewhat isolated from the man she loved so very much…

 

But life had been good, and she didn’t want to spoil the good cheer that spread around them, contagious as ever during one of Gabriela’s parties. That is of course, until later -- when something went wrong. Something always went wrong at these things. Hopefully Raphael would be able to keep on top of that, along with his merry band of murderous vampyres. She had never been a fan of the Elder, but the least she could do was admit that he had managed to restore and keep the peace.

 

“Darling,” she said to her beloved Alazar as they approached the center aspect of the throne room. There were many people moving about, but most seemed to stay a respectable distance from them. Her green eyes -- crystal-like in hue -- were taking in the sight of guests roaming about. She was looking for Roen of course, but the devil was nowhere to be found, and would hopefully keep his distance altogether. She saw a giant creature -- man or monster, she could not tell who seemed to be stearing hungrily at some poor lamb of a girl who was standing all by herself. Running a hand through her short, blond hair, Vivian turned away. It wasn’t her problem what these people did. She was here for Gabriela, and only for Gabriela… “Darling, please won’t you gather me a good sized snowball? I would do it myself, but there’s no way in fucking hell that I can bend over in this dress without flashing the entire royal court with my lovely royal ass.”

Edited by Pasion Pasiva

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Charlotte had become a creature of silence. She didn’t mean to be so quiet, or rather so off putting, but her mind had become such a dark and drewery place that she found it hard to pull herself out of it. She knew that her companion suffered for it. Justus was often left in the dark as to what her plans were, and because she had saved him and claimed ownership over his life, and he with his noble heart had accepted, he came along with her like a well behaved dog on a leash. But her intentions were not to be cruel or to mistreat him in anyway. More than once he had proven himself to be invaluable to her whenever trouble managed to find its way to her. He kept her safe, and he didn’t make demands on her methods or reasons -- he simply followed. Yet more than just his obedience, Charlotte knew that he was all that was keeping her tethered to the world anymore. She felt lost and isolated without Alexander, and she had been reckless and foolish up until the moment when she reunited with Justus. Somehow, he had given her a sense of purpose;

 

They both had to find the Black Queen.

 

It was of course a great relief to find out that her suspicions had been correct and that Gabriela was not dead. However, they had been met with quite a scare when they arrived in Veelos only to hear that an assassination attempt had nearly ended their search for the queen, when her life was nearly claimed by a true flying bullet while visiting the country of Kadia. Because of the attack, visiting with the wounded queen had been utterly impossible in Veelos, where the security was so tight that they never even got close to the royal palace.

 

This felt like their only chance to see the Queen.

 

“Once she sees us, she will recognize us,” she said to Justus as they stood there besides a large column that was decorated in ropes of lights and pearls. Not far from them stood a lovely young woman who nursed a mug of hot chocolate and was quite busy bending down to pick up a handful of snow. Charlotte couldn’t have known that this was the woman who had been so near her beloved queen when her immortal coil had nearly been done away with. Had she known, she would have gone to question the woman about the state of the queen’s mind. The rumors were hard to follow, and the gossip seemed to swerve in every, which direction. Some said she was kidnapped by Roen nearly a year ago, other’s said she was still engaged to Raphael and quite pregnant with his child -- and still others said that none of it was true, and that Gabriela had cruelly deposed her son for the sake of her own vanity.

 

But all that Charlotte wanted to know was if the queen was herself or if some tragedy had befallen her mind as it had before in the past. Did the queen remember who she was? Who her friends were…

 

“Are you nervous, Justus?” asked the golden-eyed girl with those big pupil-less eyes looking up into his face. It had been quite some time since she looked sweet and charming. Her face was bathed in the innocence of hope -- Orisia had always meant that much to her. Alexander had stolen her life once upon a time, but he was dead and gone now. For the first time, in a long time, Charlotte dared to dream what it might be like to go back…

 

To live the life she had always wanted to live.

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Alazar

Stepping into the throne room, the first thing Alazar noticed was the smell. It was the fresh, clean smell of new snow, with a subtle layer of varying scents emanating from expensive perfumes and cologne. Beneath that was the sweet aroma of luxurious flowers, gathered solely for this special coronation of a familiar Queen. Alazar inhaled deeply, taking in the odors of all that surrounded him – including the identifying scents of all those who chose to attend this unique ceremony.

The smell of the monstrous man nearby was powerful, enough to nearly completely overwhelm that of the little girl he appeared to be staring at a little too intently. But he seemed to be doing no harm at the moment, and so Alazar chose to simply keep an eye on the couple instead of assuming the worst. For now, he led his wife deeper into the room and smiled at her as they came to a halt amidst the throng of patrons. She was beautiful as always, glittering today in metallic gold, her crystalline eyes holding a mix of disdain and pride for the folk around her… a few of looking as if they wanted to take her to a private room then and there.

Alazar was dressed more modestly, himself – an elegant, stygian black suit of silk and velvet, with embroidered blue spirals swirling up the chest and high collar. His wings were retracted for now, to avoid garnering too much attention… though he reconsidered this as he took in just how many admirers Vivian was already attracting. It was rather amusing, and he too admittedly felt the desire to take her somewhere private.

This was not the time, however. This was Gabriela’s show, not his.

He glanced toward the throne, which was still empty and speckled in white flakes. He had heard all about the queen’s apparent death, self-imposed exile, deceit, and more from close kin, some of it true and some not. He had been close to investigating himself despite strict rules of not interfering… but it seemed as if things would resolve themselves, by themselves. So much the better.

He laughed lightly at Vivian’s request. “But my love, some of us would love to see that part of you.” He winked at her as he bent down, gathering together two handfuls of snow which he packed together into a pristine sphere. “You don’t plan to throw this at our dear Queen, do you?” he asked, standing and moving close to give her a light kiss on the cheek.

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"Yes, thank you I would appreciate a glass of cocoa." Gerrak said as he accepted the drink and took a sip. "Very good, yes. Try some, Serta, it is rude to refuse a drink from our gracious host." It was important that they did not think them as ingrates, as it would cause a scandal, and that would severely damage their attempts at completing their mission.

Seeing as how there wasn't much choice, Serta accepted, and sipped from the glass as well. "Thank you." She said courteously, knowing as much as Gerrak that their mission was too important for her own feelings. Who cared about the feelings of one little dwarf, when the fate of her entire people hung in the balance? Serta wished she could just tear up all those ideals of honor and duty, to hide away in her home and stay in her bed until she withered away. None of this mattered to her anymore, all she wanted was for the nightmares to stop.

"We will await her arrival then so that we may honor her coronation as proper subjects should." Dwarves in Tazarek believe that to bow to a monarch is bowing to tyranny, yet here that mindset seems to be thrown to the wind just like her own feelings. In order to establish a city here in Orisia, they would have to bend the knee to the queen. Such a thing was only tolerated to others because every dwarven city was considered its own sovereign state according to the laws. Meaning Tazarek could still claim to be a free people of dwarves, while we put ourselves in shackles in Orisia. Shackles...just like...

"Serta." Gerrak said, standing in front of her after respectfully asking the server to leave them. The dwarven woman was shaking, her eyes lost in those nightmares once again, lost in the clutches of the bastard who took her that fateful night. If Gerrak were only a few decades younger, he could have stopped it, he could have done something, but his damned old body betrayed him. "I need you, Serta, I cannot do this without you. For our people, please, you must keep it together." She held the gifts in her pack, she was the only one who could operate one of the gifts, and she was the one who could show the potential of what a dwarf could do for this country. Gerrak hoped that a change of scenery would help her through her trauma, but he was dreadfully wrong.

"I'm fine." Serta said, keeping control of herself as she tried to enjoy the singing, as she tried to enjoy the scenery, the people. It was just all beginning to be too much for her. The people looked like they were getting too close, they looked so tall, so frightening, like they were out to get her. "I...I just need some space." She tried to walk to a more private part of the throne room, knowing that Gerrak could not keep up in his state.

"Wait, please Serta, don't-" A group of servers blocked his path from his assistant, and when they cleared, his assistant was nowhere to be found. He was too old, too frail to run after her, once again his body fails him in his state. "Thundermar...please keep her safe..." He whispered, knowing it was important to keep up appearances, he would begin to socialize a bit with the other nobles, hoping beyond hope that Serta was okay.

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The right was smooth, seamless as they parted the stratosphere from above the capital. The view of what was left of the city was reminiscent of the former beauty portrayed through rumor. Likewise he had no doubt that the quarter of the city still in hot embers was a perfect excuse for renovations. No doubt any new structures would strive to out do the former beauty of the lost portion of Versilla. He wasn't clear on the details of the skirmish, though he was not completely unaware of the reclamation of the Black Queen's throne. How fortunate she was to not lose her entire kingdom over the affair. The Cambion knew first hand the pain of losing an entire nation, the pain of bringing it to ruin and failing miserably to defend it. She was lucky she hadn't had to experience the pain of such a loss. 

“You look mighty dapper this evening as well, Lord Xartia.”

She complimented him all her own, which if he were being honest was a bit out of her character compared to their relationship's past. He smiled softly as he silently took the compliment in. Granted he was sure to not let it go to his head. Potentially this was the nicest she had ever been to him, and to say this was happening while he was in certain circumstance usually much to her disdain, for him she made the exception. It dawned on him then just where they were going. Thankfully the night's moon was not full tonight, and even if it were he would fare well so long as he kept up with his choice of self medicating, but even then he wasn't clear on just how receptive this variety of vampires would be to the likes of a Loup Garou. Would he be embraced by the arms of dignity and respect, or rebuked by the arms of ire and prejudice? While he had no concerns for conflict over it, and even if there was he could certainly hold his own, he was not coming to this event empty handed. A true Magician always has contingencies after all.

“Thank you…”

He found himself flattered by her gratitude, but with so much having been happening so fast and so recent, he'd be lying if he said he was certain of why she would be thanking him. It wouldn't matter ultimately, why she thanked him. It mattered that he was able to provide service to her that was appreciated. It mattered that his company was currently not only acceptable these days, but desired to some degree. Still, it humbled him to have such normal and fresh interaction with her. Regardless of past attempts, this would seem to be the true fresh start they had desired years ago while still standing under the banner of that wretched Lich King. Oh how ironic it was during a time of being something more hated by the Kitsune than most things, and yet this seemed to be the best results ever experienced with This One. As the continued to fly through the air in a rather large arc around the capital, Xartia's right hand found itself hovering across the car before finding it landing partially on Her hand within her lap. Reassuringly it drifted until it eclipsed her hand, at which point he would give it a comforting squeeze. Taking his eyes off the sky for the briefest of moment, he smiled at her in a way only he could smile.

"No, thank you for accompanying me this eve. You know how important tonight is for me, I'm certain that without you it would not be possible as I had envisioned it."

Indeed it was important. The Black Queen was returning to her thrown, thus celebration was called for. However, Xartia had ulterior motive. This night would have a portion of it spent paying respect to the returning monarch, there was no doubt of that in his mind. Though the peak of his night had little to do with the overall theme and occasion as it was. Conveniently it just so happened to be a nigh perfect occasion in formal setting to spring his most recent plans. While he knew that his plans might not go as he wanted them to, he was certain that some of it was beyond debate. Even if he had to make it so he would. Though compliance was always the preferred method when it came to making life changing decisions with or about someone else. 

"If at any point you feel weak, let me know and we'll take our leave immediately. Your well-being is my top priority."

His thumb lightly traced over the flawless smooth skin upon the back of her hand a few times before withdrew his hand. Placing it back on the steering wheel, their would accelerate once more, climbing up to a whopping 87 mph as they found no doubt find a stretch of vacant road closer to the destroyed portion of town than not. Coming in strong, he would glide in with the landing gear lowering simultaneously. In a single moderate bounce followed by a mild one, they would touch down, and she would feel the Regalia Type-F gradually decelerating to an appropriate driving speed. With the flip of yet another switch, the vehicle would withdraw it's wings and convert back to land cruising mode. As if this sleek ride wasn't already enough, he would hit (you guessed it) another switch. Just when the car finishing converting into it's default mode, the top above them would suddenly shift, warping and folding as it was removed from over head. The heat of the city created a weird atmosphere with the chilling air. What was more was his first ever exposure to the illustrious La Ruta. While her presence wasn't an over-barring one, it was certainly unique. While he lacked details of the phenomenon, he was well aware of the main function of La Ruta. The regulation of arcane forces. 

"I certainly hope that La Ruta can hold us in her good graces. It would be mighty unfortunate to feel completely vulnerable in the uncertain reception of tonight's festivities."

Even without his own direct influence over magical forces, and his plethora of spells, Xartia would feel worse off. Though this wouldn't leave him completely vulnerable. For the past couple months he had taken to learning more formal arts or martial prowess. His favored addition of Bartitsu was genuinely the best self defense system for any gentleman respectively. It was swift, precise, and efficient. Likewise it taught the average man to wield common objects as a weapon such as canes, umbrellas, and briefcases. Then again, if he got really desperate, his can also concealed as blade that was not unlike a modified, albeit small sabre. Though of course it had no conventional guard. Likewise, every other finger would on the Cambion's hands boasted rings of gold from rose to white. Each hosting it's own particular stone respectively. These five rings total that he wore each served their own unique purpose, and yet the magic of these items created by himself would likely be less affected by La Ruta and her judgement than himself. He knew better than to heavily arm himself, and ultimately he was certain that if desperate, he could arm himself on the fly as he usually did. After all, he hadn't found not even a single place from which he could not call Seiðmaðr to his aid.

It wouldn't be much longer before they would find themselves catching up to some little traffic, but much more people crowding towards the Queen's manor. He would slow the Regalia down enough to be safe both to themselves and to any other's outside the vehicle, but he remained with enough haste to maneuver as close to the manor as possible before securing parking that he felt would fail to have him trapped later. Last thing he wanted to have to do was resort to using more of his unsanctioned magic to get out of a parking spot. Especially with the potential of backfire being that he would be casting in a new place with it's own governing forces. He wasn't completely new to such complexities, though this scenario was a far cry from the defenses in place back in Predator's Keep. With the car officially stopped, Xartia turned the engine off before removing a phallic crystal from a strange looking ignition. With a flick of his wrist it vanished, leaving him to glance at her once more with that same charming smirk he had been giving her all day. Opening his suicide style doors simultaneously, he would step out and first straighten his jacket before dusting himself off and making a quick smooth over of himself while walking casually around the back of the front of the vehicle as he approached the passenger side. Offering his right hand to Her, he would look as if to say Ready?, yet he failed to actually ask her out loud.

@Akako Akari

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How many can make the claim of representing two separate nations? He doubted there were any aside from his own siblings. Corvinus’ seedline had acted as a bridge between the Houses Melisende and Cartyr. Two of the arguably greatest families. One producing a line of noble heroes and Kommandants, who had saved the entirety of Renovatio from falling. The next had produced the greatest Ucissore in history, and the woman whose hands helped in building the Kadian Empire. It was such a unique extended family, that even he was unsure of what to think about it all.

This would be his first political engagement since his graduation into the Bravada. Naturally he had been schooled in the affairs of nobility, such was the case when your mother and father sat at the height if the most advanced nation to grace Valucre’s skies, or when your grandparent ruled a vast empire. Still his confidence in his learning did little to assuage the pressure that seemed to stifle his heartbeat. He was here, alone, representing two nations. Their reputations fell on his shoulders and would either be spoken of in respect or derision based on his success. It was quite a bit to take in, even though Asher had more than enough confidence.

He took a deep breath outside of the great entrance of the DuGrace castle. Sure, he had a lot of weight on his shoulders, but he would not have been chosen to see this through if they doubted his capability. He used his free hand to straighten carmine locks, brushed back away from his face. He was a handsome man, though youth still clung to his features, it was hard to miss the sharp structure of Corvinus, and his height. Though he found he was not the only man of great stature in attendance to this celebration. He stepped into the great throne room, after showing he was unarmed, and realized he stuck out like a sore thumb. In a sea of white and pearl hues he was like a drop of blood on the snow.

His red suit made him distinctly noticable, a mixture of deep crimson with black accents. Finely woven from fibers of primal alloy. His sister had chosen it for him, and he wondered if she had done so on purpose to make him stand out. He fought the heat rising in his cheeks, looking embarrassed now, there was no turning back. He continued his steps, confidence filling opal eyes that took in the impressive display of the snow and decorations. No expense was spared he thought, it was proof enough that the Orisian people adored their queen. It brought thoughts of the former ruler and his aunt Lemoine to mind. He hoped she was alright, it had been a long time since he had heard from her.

He glanced down at the box held in the crook of his arm. A beautiful gift that matched season in which this coronation was taking place. Valsee wood from the Cold South, an intricate inlay of Kadian jewels and Renovatian primal alloy. On its face was three seals, the imperial seal of Kadia, then the seals of the houses Cartyr and Melisende. Just as he was a symbol of these nations’ unity so was this gift. Both nations recognized Gabriela’s right to rule, and in doing so extended a hand of friendship and well wishes. Politics were such a complicated matter, but it seemed he had no choice but to indulge in them. Besides he had always wanted to visit Orisia, where his grandmother and father had first met.

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