Julius Titus Viriatus is the reigning Viriathus, currently in the forty-seventh year of his reign at the age of seventy-two; Livia Aelia-Viriatus was his wife of thirty-one years and died in 2002 at the age of forty-five.

Tyrian purple and gold

Lusitania, and famous? In the same sentence? Ha. At any rate, the only reason Lusitania is relevant is because it’s so old. They do some agricultural export, handled by Athenian shipping lines, but for the most part they’re a sleepy (and stagnant) kingdom primarily fueled by a tourist industry – again, they seem to be very much stuck in a prior time that foreigners love to experience (and can’t wait to leave.)

Lusitanian soldiers still fight with swords and shields and armor out of the classical era. In the 1800s there was a brief surge of gothic-plate style knight’s armor, but it was soon abandoned as being too expensive and intricate. (That said, many centurions and those of higher ranks own a suit worn for ceremony, and some prime decani can be seen wearing greaves and gauntlets in that style, in addition to their traditional uniforms.) It should be noted that their military serves in place of a police force; otherwise their role is solely ceremonial.

Overall, they’ve got a mishmash of basically 2000 years of aesthetics happening. Don’t even look at their coin system, where they’ve got several differently-named coins that have the same values.

They’ve become a biiiit of a meme on the Internet, with their quite frankly backwards policies and their blatant lack of such notions as ‘equality’ – they have become ‘the wet-dream of incels’ to quote one scandalous Britannian tabloid, a statement which might have some truth when one considers the proposed changes to Lusitanian immigration law.

A radical feminist symbol has increasingly cropped up in social media even in other kingdoms – a rust- or bronze-colored brazier, shaped as a horseshoe or perhaps a crescent moon, with twisting flames erupting from the top. It’s the icon of Foeda Flammae, the League of the Flare (though with the dual meaning of ‘foeda’ there’s often less-favorable translations. Regardless, it plays well into the Aciran Nasty Women and other such rough-and-tumble feminist cries.)

Teenysmol ""empire"" with milennia of history, spanning a mere 800 square miles
Most recently in the world news about them have been the Ludiia Riots of 2016 – after the murder of Domitius Titus Viriatus and revelation of his twin sister’s deception, students at the school she had been attending rioted for her right to stay there rather than face discipline at home.
The empress died in 2003 while giving birth to Liviana Decima. The kingdom had the customary two years of mourning at that time.
Formally became an empire in 1466.
Last external military conflict was finished in 1815, a decisive loss.

To be added as more comes up. Can present a family tree upon request; it is very big and confusing and inbreeding is kinda a thing. Oops.

Domitia ‘Dom’ Annia Viriatus

N/A – Lusitania does not use inherited titles at all, it is rather a cultural – implication, of sorts, that one’s family name be the indicator of their power. That said, in another kingdom they would be called a princess – they (were) second in line to inherit after their father.

19 (Birthday: October 15)

Nonbinary (prefers ‘they’ pronouns)

Aaaaa?!

Dom is a very stern looking young person, somehow intimidating despite their tiny stature. Though they are notably tall for an afab person born into the Viriatus bloodline, and even stand just above the Lusitanian average, they are dwarfed by most from the rest of the world – they stand at five feet and zero point seven five inches, to be precise.

Their body was once that of an athlete or soldier, toned and wiry with muscle and padded with a healthy layer of fat, but in the last three years it has withered away and become emaciated and frail. Collarbones are starkly sharp against their sallow skin, joints comparatively knobby and bulbous. Once-broad shoulders now are loose and pointed and often bruised – the running ‘joke’ in their family is that a sparrow’s landing on their shoulder would leave a mark for weeks.

Despite their form, or perhaps because of it, everything else about them has a razor-like intensity. Dark green eyes peer out from under wisps of precisely jaw-length mousy-brown hair, over painfully-prominent cheekbones further emphasized by a long, thin scar that traces lengthwise across the right one. Dom refuses to conceal it with makeup, even considering the scar a point of pride – the only injury they ever sustained during their years of military school.

Regarding attire, Dom clothes themself as a Lusitanian lady would – only out of the insistence of their father and grandfather. Their attire is always closely fit to their body - at least, as closely as any Lusitanian fashions ever are – and in the dullest colors they can get away with. They wear no jewelry or hair accessories, and minimal makeup, though their fingernails are immaculate and always have clear, glossy gel polish on them.

Dom is a master of self-control. Everything about them must be entirely, exactly in its place. They are obsessive - hands eternally fidgeting, picking at buttons or brooches or loose threads or, without anything else, their own skin; eyes flickering to every face and object in the room and back over them a hundred times. When something manages to capture their focus, however, it is absolutely laser-like. Dom has been taught to be utterly attentive to every last detail of a situation. At one point, their memory was impeccable as well; the ability to recall any face or name would come in immense use should they ever wind up as the kingdom's ruler - but in recent years that ability has faded. Nonetheless, Dom is a very unnerving person to be around- their eyes seem to linger on all of one's secrets.

In all other regards, however, they are the perfect royal of bygone times. Elegant, graceful, and (perhaps overly) formal, they're not the sort to embarrass or cause offense at a dinner party. That said, there's always something off about them - they do not do well at idle small talk, and have a bearing and posture that never fully settle to relaxed.

Internally, Dom is very introspective and honestly quite pessimistic. Their existence has, for the last several years, been a matter of keeping their head down and just surviving - and now these two months here in Aciras are to be their only chance at escaping Lusitania and finding somewhere to except them for who they are. Pressure mounts - but then, they've always been good under pressure. With that being said, they've never tried to make a personal connection with anyone, certainly not on the level required to get them to agree to a wedding. They just pray they can make it happen.

Likes: Pretty, strong girls (!!!!!), gardening, rainstorms, swimming and running, vegetarian cuisine, ’wonder food’ smoothies, indie music and edm, cartography.

Dislikes: Meat, especially fatty Aciran cuisine; fuckboys from their year, idle time, milkshakes (they're lactose intolerant), penmanship lessons.

The kingdom rejoiced when Servius Titus Viriatus’s wife bore him twins. The heir to the throne had his own heirs, and the fate of Lusitania was secure!

To honor the twins’ mother, they were both named for her father – and the female twin was given her name, in place of the ancestral ‘Titus’ that had been traditionally bestowed to the eldest children for generations. Thus Domitia Annia and Domitius Titus Viriatus were welcomed into the world.

Growing up, the twins were utterly inseparable. They were fiercely doted upon, and guarded, and kept from playing with any of the lesser-born children, and so they became figuratively joined at the hip. They also bore an uncanny resemblance to each other, to the point where if their hair was obscured even their regular nurses couldn’t tell them apart.

As they grew older, they were separated – the girl twin shut inside to learn to weave and spin and embroider and do pretty lady things, and the boy set out to explore and scuffle and run with the hounds and do stern soldier things.

Annia wouldn’t have minded such a docile life. But Titus- he aggressively, painfully, did not want to be a solider. And Annia had always looked out for her brother.

In their infinite wisdom, the twins hatched a foolproof plan to switch places. At the tender age of eight years old, Annia cut off her long hair, chopped it up all raggedy with scissors until the nurses had to shave it just like her brother’s.

With that came the sad realization that even their parents could not tell them apart (at least when they were clothed) whatsoever, which made it almost painfully easy for them to trade places. On the fateful day when Titus was to be sent off to Lusitania’s most prestigious military academy, Annia took his place in the car.

So was born the identity with which Annia continues to use today – ‘Dom’ was hungry for knowledge and viciously eager to prove himself better than his classmates, which he did with much perseverance and effort. He soon became a favorite of many of the teachers, who admired his work ethic and discipline despite his lack of physical stature, and found his mental aptitude to be second to none.

As years passed, Dom and Titus were rarely given a chance to interact. But Titus was at least as clever as Dom; he continued his part of the ruse without revealing it, and under much more careful scrutiny than Dom ever was at the Academy.

The twins were approaching their thirteenth birthday. By this time, Dom had become the top of their class. Titus had done so well at convincing everyone that he was Annia that a proposal had been extended. Dom’s heart nearly fell out of their chest.

There was no way they could make the change. The day of the ceremony, Dom tried to get Titus alone, to switch with him once more, but he… either didn’t see, or refused to acknowledge them. Their terror grew as the ceremony progressed, as they were sent back to the school that very same night – feasting was all well and good, but they had to get an education.

In the morning they were awoken to the most horrifying news they could have imagined.

Titus had been found dead in the marriage bed, his throat slit and body mutilated, and the noble he’d been wed to nowhere to be found.

All eyes turned to Dom. Forcibly revealed to be the fairer twin, their father ordered them brought home. It was a riot. Not even figuratively speaking- there were students taking up arms and rocks and standing against the legion with their shields and swords, and the fury was infectious, spilling over into the common people. The riots spread all through Rome, through the surrounding cities, and lasted in force for over two weeks. Dom themself was ordered to lay down their arms and surrender to their father’s guard; they very politely told the guards to fuck off and continued fighting.

The riots eventually settled. Many were wounded, including Dom – they had been glanced across the cheek by the edge of a throwing spear, but refused medical treatment, for fear that they would be returned home – but their father no longer required it. They were allowed to return to school.

Oh, and how things changed.

Teachers who used to dote on and fawn over them were cold, callous, and unfairly harsh in marking their papers. They would consistently ‘lose’ submitted work – Dom began submitting it in hard copy, digitally, and in any other way they could think of, until eventually the teachers got so tired of the eternal spam that they dropped the pretense. The other students, who had previously been in varying shades of awe and envy, suddenly saw them as lesser. Hazing and bullying started at every turn, constantly calling them by their too-feminine name. More than their fair share of scuffles broke out- scuffles which they could not defend within at all, for fear of being expelled.



They grit their teeth and bore it, silently, and graduated with the highest possible honors. To spite them; to spite all of them. To be a stronger person than they would ever dream to be.

What had they learned at school?

Sure, sure. Tactics, history, the legends of the man who dared stand against a tide. How ironic that he who broke the tyrannical Roman’s back is idolized, yet the one who now tries to take more than their due be vilified.

Trying to re-integrate to palace life, having returned home with their medals and uniforms, was… decidedly not easy. There was no rigor, at least not compared to the planned-to-the-minute days they had grown so used to at the academy, and everyone else was altogether too relaxed.

It didn’t help that upon their return they were immediately forced back into the pretty, flowy dresses that they had escaped at the age of eight. Constantly followed by that name – that nameand forced to be someone they were not – until they burst from the halls in a fit of rage and ran, and ran, and did not stop until they twisted their ankle in a pothole and went skidding across ancient concrete.

Seven miles from the palace. How long had they been out there? The agonizing walk back gave them time to think, gave them time to let the pain of the situation ease along with the ache in their lungs.

Not Annia. Annia had died that day she had taken Titus’s place. Annia would have become the quiet wife of that nameless noble four years before. Annia would have worn dresses and curlers and braids and laurels and been content to know that someday she would have children.

Not Titus. Titus was dead. Murdered. Titus would have been an emperor, blessed by gods and revered by men. He would have been noble and just and kind and powerful.

No, Dom was neither the girl they had been born nor the man they tried to become. Rather… stuck in limbo. Incomplete.

The only person they dared reveal this revelation to was their younger aunt – Livi. The sheltered and frail youngest sister of their father. If they expected her to be shocked or confused, they were instead met with a soft laugh and a quiet Internet search on Livi’s ever-present smartphone. Such words as ‘nonbinary’ and neutral pronouns – only ever used in conversation with Livi and a few other trusted friends, of course, the emperor was ill-prepared to deal with a nonconforming child, never mind a nonbinary one! - but gradually Dom became more confident in their personal identity. It was easier for them to don the sparkly gowns knowing that the way they dressed didn’t invalidate who they felt they were.

But with that comfort and confidence came in turn issues with their physical appearance. They were too small and lacking in form and muscle to ever be a masculine enough man, and too few people took them seriously with their increasingly feminine shape. Rome had always prized women with wide hips and generous busts.


Several months have passed. This trip to Aciras is going to be… interesting, for certain. Betrothed to a man they’ve only met on official business, from a kingdom that might be progressive compared to Lusitania, but is still remarkably old-world fussy compared to the rest of the world... they can only hope that Stefanos won’t immediately call it off upon getting to know them, or worse, force them into an identity they can’t fill.

Still, he's well-liked by his people and by his siblings. Everything will work out fine for them.

…right?

Color Code: c2e2a7 | Faceclaim: Alba Galocha

Stefanos Kokinos of Polemos

Dia has at times spoken at FF ('Foeda Flammae', or 'the league of the flame' - a radfem organization that advocates for women to take up arms and forcibly take back their rights) rallies, and has accidentally become a bit of a radical feminist icon across the world. They don't agree with all of FF's platforms, and even speak out against how dangerous their 'rekindling the flame of war' would be, and how many women would be subject to horrible violence because of it- but it falls on deaf ears; the organization only ever uses their quotes that appear to support their platforms, and claim to be endorsed by Dom when they're very much not.
They have 10k followers on Tumblr, and about 12k on instagram, but try to keep a low profile and keep those identities un-associated with their name.

Violante, but she prefers to be called Vi, Vio, or Te.

Crown Princess of Brizia

20

Female

Homosexual

Hair: Naturally curly, Violante's hair juts barely past her shoulders. Her bangs are shaggy, and they're parted to side. Her hairstyles are often creative although usually not too involved. The most complicated it gets it when she decides to braid her hair and needs three million bobby pins to hold her hair in the braid.

Height: 5'7''

Style: As the palace's resident thrifter and aesthetic queen, Vi is often found in a barrage of colors, never abel to stick to one look. At the very least, her style can be defined as '80s/'90s, indie/bedroom popstar chic (She can do a perfect impression of Halsey's voice, as a side note. It's her party trick). Te is a fan of geometric shapes, color-blocking, and layering. She's often seen in casual clothes, including high-waisted jeans, cargo pants, band tees, and her lucky golf sweater (although she hates golf). Her makeup consists of colorful eyeliner and outlandish amounts of blush. You will rarely find Vi in anything appropriate for a formal or even casual occasion. At balls, she can be found in something short that probably belongs in a Brizia nightclub rather than at a dinner with the Senate.

Etc: Violante has multiple tattoos, including a picture of a house surrounded by trees on her wrist. Her ears and nose are pierced, and her ears are often weighed down by statement piece earrings.

Growing up in the breezy, calm Brizia, a tiny island off the coast of Italy (You know the toe of The Boot? Just look a little past that and you'll find Brizia), Violante was always free to be who wanted to be. Well, more accurately, she insisted upon it. Inspired by a lot of the films that discussed the importance of existentialism coming out in Brizia when she was growing up, she insisted upon her individuality. No one was going to tell her that life wasn't meant to be lived for herself. Although she understands her role as future Queen, Vi has an entire list of how she wants to change her tiny country for the better. As a very convincing and intoxicating person, she believes that she can use her charm and stubbornness to convince the Senate to adopt her rulings.

Since Violante had little problems growing up, other than the weird bullying she received from primary until high school, she's fairly light-hearted. Even when her brother died in combat and her mother divorced the King. Vi gets through life with her self-relient attitude and her ability to make herself laugh when others fail. That being said, she has a mean streak of judging others. Although Te will never tell anyone except when they piss her off, she's an incredible sense of character, yet she usually sees herself above others who aren't as free form and blunt as she is.

Given the smallness of Brizia and that their main export is fish and poultry, Violante has always cared about the environment. Her country is mildly conservative, with only her generation encouraging radical change culturally and economically. Passionate about her beliefs and her love for her country, Vio refuses to take no for an answer. As a public activist, she can be found at the Brizia Protection Foundation, an organization that she founded that supports a plethora of public policy and cultural issues. Being gay, she knows how older people react to her sexuality, and she actively works to change the perception of the LGBTQ+ community. Additionally, she's a huge proponent of normalizing mental health, considering she's suffered from depression since she was thirteen, greener solutions, and welfare programs that help bridge the intense economical gap between the people of her country (because of this, Vio can be seen to live simply and insist upon earning everything for herself, other than her home. She can been found to work a part-time job at the campus library and she pays for her college courses with a loan)

☼ People who are kinder than her

☼ A light-hearted conversation

☼ Or, one where people discuss outrageous hypotheticals or problems that characterize their life

☼ Genuine, long hugs

☼ 1 lb. bags of Sour Patch Kids

☼ Surprising everyone in the room with her looks

☼ Compliments (though she isn't the type to pine for them) + giving them

☼ Brightening people's day

☼ Soft hair and when someone gets sweaty palms (okay so she'll never admit that to anyone, because it's weird)

☼ People who aren't bogged down by life

☼ Nirvana, Lana Del Rey, and The Velvet Underground are amongst her favorite bands

☼ Liars

☼ When others are hurt, especially when she can't do anything to help

☼ Feeling powerless

☼ People who don't take responsibility for their actions

☼ People who refuse to change

☼ Frozen yogurt, especially if there are gummy bears in it. "Just wrong."

☼ Pretentious people

☼ Formality

☼ People who take their problems out on others

☼ Riverdale, but mostly because she got hooked on the first season and then it just got weird.

Her older brother, Perseo Michelangelo Emilio, was the heir to the throne prior to his voluntary service in Brizia's military. Persi, as Vi called him, went against her and her parent's wishes (surprisingly, she agreed with them for once). He went anyways, giving up his crown in favor of serving his country. He stayed long enough to see Te made and died from an IED two years later. Violante was thirteen. This put an obvious strain on her parents' marriage, resulting in her mother leaving, claiming to "never having liked palace life." She left Vi with only a hug, saying she'd visit. Another year, and the former Queen Chiara Crescenzia Camilla Cerminara still hadn't visited her rebellious, grieving daughter. Violante didn't find out about her mother's engagement until Attención!, Brizia's gossip magazine, reported on it. Needless to say, Vi was angry, and she expressed this inwardly. She's hyper-insecure and oftens a lot of time commenting to herself about how annoying she is. How loud she is. Essentially, the ways in which she could think of why her mother hated her enough to leave like that.

King Leonozio Teodoto Respicio Illardi of Brizia has been close to Vi since she was fourteen. The pair have always been connected, often times more friends than parent/daughter, but once her mother left, the two relied on each other for support. It was already difficult to comprehend the death of Persi, the suddenness of it, and Chiara's inability to connect, to talk to them about what's going on, hurt them both. It felt as though, even though they're a literal royal family, they were no longer on the former queen's radar. Rejection is a bitch, but it hurts more when you're a family. As Vi has gotten older, her father has encouraged her silliness, her outlandishness, and her un-princess-like behavior. According to him, it'll make her a better ruler, with a propensity to actually do some good.

As a kid, Violante was never liked. She always stood out, like a sore thumb, and was always known to stand on a soap-box and defend others, even as kid. She could be overly honest, and most of the kids at her public school didn't appreciate this. Although Violante would never realize this, she was intimidating. Being a princess is already envy-invoking enough, but she wouldn't just go with the flow. Vi made a point to stand out, and although she's not as intense or annoying about it now, she still hates herself for being so insist upon being unlike others. After having the ultimate emo-phase when she was a tween (If you saw her princess crowning, you'd see that her hair was dyed red and she smudged black around her eyes), Violante started to make friends in high school. As her public school classmates grew older, some kids realized the authenticity of Vio and she made some of her closest friends outside of the royal world. Leonia and Stiliano, her best friends, have been there for her when it comes to the drama of her mother and the impending doom she feels will happen when her father finally retires.

Currently attending university, Violante hopes to be well-verse in her country's law, though she doesn't want to have a law degree. She is double majoring in Philosophy and Justice Studies while also learning legislation from her father on weekends. When she isn't losing her mind over homework and her part-time job, she's usually organizing the next event for her social change organization or trying to be a good friend.

Danielle Lashley | DAF7A6

TBD

Brizia

Age 56, King Leonozio has ruled over Brizia since he was nineteen. Always encouraging of change for the better, Leonozio has almost changed the entire makeup of Brizia in his forty years of rule. Because of him, his mother's conservative rules, such as the illegalization of homosexuality, her prohibition of alcohol, despite it being one of Brizia's highest-grossing exports, and her defunding of Brizia's environmental research coalition, have been reversed. Still, the country has always been somewhat against these changes, even if the majority of the country is centrist. Still, Leonozio has encouraged his daughter to strike out against the naysayers and those who fight change.

Prior to her shocking divorce from Leonozio (the first royal divorce for Brizia), Queen Chiara was the yang to King Leonozio's yin. She ruled beside him, always designing and encouraging change at a slower rate than what her husband wanted. She didn't disagree with him, but she, like the rest of the country, didn't want things to evolve so quickly. According to her, things weren't broken (even though gang activity was up 50% since the prohibition of 1920 and violence against people of the LGBTQ+ community was at an all-time high when Leonozio took reign in 1980). This led to a lot of tension between the two, but the couple remained fully in love until the death of their son.

Perseo, known as Persi by the palace and his sister, was the crown jewel of Brizia. Although he wasn't seen as politically active as Violante, Prince Perseo was a social media prince and was seen as a sex symbol with a heart of gold for animals. He was the doll of any ribbon-cutting ceremony, a star of several movies, and often seen as one of the most eligible bachelors, though he often caused trouble later on when tabloids caught him partying. However, at age 26, he rescinded his crown and sought to represent his country through war against the neighboring island, Daesha. The two countries had been at war for a century, fighting on and off if one got brazen enough to attack the other. Prince Perseo was killed by an IED upon an attempted invasion of Daesha.

Rusty brown, white, and blue.

Prior to the reign of King Leonozio, Brizia was known for its smallness (yet weird relevance considering its exports often go to the richest people of foreign countries), its harsh conservativeness that often resulted in violence, and it's numerous class wars throughout history. Now, the country is being seen as remarkable for its forward-thinking. Brizia's key exports are fish, poultry, and minerals. The country is also used for a lot of environmental studies and chemical engineering advancements.

☼ 1880- The fourth and most recent class war breaks out, putting the Illardi family in power with the promise of more socialist programs. King Vinebaldo, the leader of the revolution, delivers on this for the most part and enacts the Senate, which represents every Burrough of Brizia. The Senate represents their Burrough, and they get to decide if they execute rulings by the royal family and often serve as advisors to the current ruler.

☼ 1912- Queen Ghita Franca Gisella Eva Illardi (Violenta's grandmother) comes to power. Her key pieces of legislation include the Articles of Prohibition of 1920, the Family Values Act of 1934, and her numerous tax increases.
In her time, the third round of war broke out between Brizia and Daesha, resulting in the almost 20,000 men dying (almost a tenth of the country at the time). Because of this, the country's population stands at approximately 400,000, almost double the population from 1930 when the war ended. From then until the end of her reign, she suffered from several deaths, including three of her sons and her husband. Upon her death, her youngest son (which she birthed when she was around 50. During her time, threat of another class war was eminent with the added threat of nuclear power being the only thing that quieted rumors of rebellion.

☼ 1978- King Leonozio Teodoto Respicio Illardi of Brizia starts his reign. During his time, great change has occurred and peace has, almost, been brought, though Brizia and Daesha still fights from time to time.

☼ 2011- Prince Perseo leaves the royal family to serve in the military. He dies only two years into his tour.

☼ 2014- Queen Chiara leaves the royal family upon divorcing King Leonozio.

N/A

Lyra (lee-ruh, not lie-ruh) is how she introduces herself, and Chell (like the first syllable of Celeste) was given by her primary school classmates and stuck quite firmly.

The heiress to the duchy of Mantua, her title is technically Marchioness, or Lady Verona. (In real-world terms, yes, she’s the crown pri ncess.)

Nineteen

Female

Some form of sapphic, but she hasn’t found a label she likes yet – she doesn’t feel that she fits with bi or pan but she’s not exclusively attracted to girls, either, so...

Lyra is proud of the fact that she looks incredibly, perfectly ordinary, able to blend in among Mantuan crowds with ease. She stands just shy of five feet and two inches, slightly below the Mantuan average – and she towers over her Lusitanian cousins, though is still dwarfed by most other kingdom’s royals. Her frame is thin and rather girlish, without much by way of curves, though she always dresses to accentuate what she has. Her light olive skin is smooth, naturally radiant with the barest scattering of freckles across her high cheekbones. Her eyes are a shade of “generic hazel-brown”, as she has said in the past, often accentuated with thin eyeliner and mascara, but little by way of colorful makeup. She’s been known to experiment with it, but her go-to looks for the face are incredibly natural.

Lyra is a master of all things whimsical, her shoulder-length waves (her natural brown at the moment, though she’s rocked other colors before!) pinned back simply and paired, often questionably well, with some combination of fantasy-medieval gowns (in formal settings) or flowy tunics, or – for casual occasions – a trendy turtleneck or oversized sweater. Day-to-day, when she’s trying to blend in while attending university, she’ll be found in a belted tunic, leggings, and often sandals or boots depending on the weather. She doesn’t wear much by way of necklaces or bracelets, though she does usually have a thin septum piercing and signature oversized hoop earrings. Lyra’s favorite accessory is a set of oversized glasses, enormous round copper-wire frames with delicate vine-patterned earwires. She only really needs them to see the board in lectures or for reading, but she will wear them to complement any sort of outfit.

Notably, numerous enamel tourist-shop pins of various patriotic sorts (the kingdom flag, coat of arms, house coat of arms, and the colors of each of her holdings/titles) adorn the front pocket of her messenger-bag backpack, which is near-always on her person.

Above all else, Lyra is a gentle soul. She’s enamored by fantasy and fine art, as one would expect of someone born and raised in the epicenter of a modern-day cultural renaissance, and she has a special fondness for all things creative and pretty. She has far more ideas than she has time or motivation for, bouncing around from writing to drawing to sculpting to music to sewing to anything else one can do with their hands or their mind. She’s far from indecisive; it’s more that she makes her decisions on the faintest whim.

Soft-spoken and empathetic, she’s fond of animals and small children, though sometimes finds their loud unpredictability off-putting. She’s always eager to make friends, putting herself out into social situations whenever she has the chance, and with her gentle smile and unassuming posture, people often gravitate to her for just that. She does her best to be down-to-earth, and has been even rather secretive about her royal status. She decided to attend the university of Naples precisely to have anonymity among the masses.

Lyra loves to travel, and hopes to someday visit every kingdom and country on Earth.

Online, Lyra is considerably more of a presence than she is in person. She frequently makes and shares content that supports LGBT+ rights, and she has been (at least remotely) involved in protests in other kingdoms. It hasn’t been an issue in Mantua in the last century, but she appreciates the privilege of having a global platform. She’s unique from other royals in that she doesn’t separate her professional and personal accounts; scroll back far enough on her Instagram and you’ll find cheesy photos of her and her high school girlfriend. To that effect, she’s been an out-of-the-closet sapphic since she was 13 ((and has frequently gone off at length on her Tumblr, Insta, and TikTok about how pretty girls are)) and is very vocal about how supportive her family and friends are both at home and at university. Most people in Mantua are supportive (those who have issues with her choice in partners have issues more based on class than on gender) and though she’s been met with considerable clapback from various other kingdoms, she refuses to let it compromise her authenticity. It’s the one thing she’s notably stubborn about.

Lyra loves traveling, bullet journaling, and fancy stationery. She’s very fond of various fine art (especially impressionist and other early abstract art) and fashion design across all eras – she’s torn between studying creative writing and fashion design at university, for when she finally starts up classes. Cello is her favorite instrument and she’s dabbled in playing it, but she’s decidedly not good at it. She’s a half-decent pianist, but doesn’t particularly enjoy playing – especially when paired with a cello, though, she’s all ears for concerts. To that effect, she’s quite a patron of the arts; the house accountant once did a breakdown of her yearly expenses and realized a notable portion of her allowance went towards memberships at dozens of museums, art galleries, and concert halls. As many Mantuans are, Lyra is very fond of tarot and similar magical/arcane rituals.

She professes to not dislike anything, but she has a deep-seated hatred for prejudiced and oblivious people. She doesn’t care for espresso; even mixed into a drink with Starbucks amounts of sugar and cream, it’s still too bitter for her. Bright fluorescent lights, especially strobing ones like one would find at a concert or club, tend to give her migraines, and some electronic music becomes especially grating on her ears after even a short time. Still, she tries to be open-minded to all things except hatred.

Lyra’s had the privilege of a very quiet and well-supported childhood. She grew up in a happy home with a loving mother and father and two affectionate younger siblings, attending a state school – it was a point of pride for her parents that they so trusted the public education system that they would educate all their children in it. Their public schooling is full of art and music and literature, with most higher-level math and science as an optional addition. Lyra has always been quick to make friends, and for the most part those friendships were not even strained by her royal status. She had some lessons at home to supplement her public education, but those were mostly on international relations and things that she was required to know even more of as a royal – her parents tried to give her opportunities to have as long of a “normal” childhood as they could.

As teenagers do, she had a girlfriend in secondary school – Eva Caladri, whom she’s still friends with and speaks fondly of – for nearly two years. Eva's family moved and so she transferred to a different school, and as could be expected the distance pulled them apart. She still misses her, sometimes, but they’ve both pretty neatly moved on with no hard feelings. Lyra’s been very fortunate in that regard; a smear campaign could have been disastrous.

Over the summer, Lyra took some university courses from the University of Naples; she’s certain that she’s going to attend school there, loving the bustling of the campus and just how diverse and lovely it all is. With that being said, she has no idea what she wants to study. She’s been friends with Lea Lynton over social media since they were much younger – when she found out about the wedding, she begged her parents to be able to attend, and it happened to work out perfectly with her gap year plans. After the festivities, she’s going on a tour of the world, stopping in Britannia and Liang and Castilya and Lusitania and a dozen other places over the span of a few months. It’s not a diplomatic visit and half the countries don’t even know she’s planning to be there – she’s just going to explore. Her family is remarkably not worried about her safety. After all, Mantua barely even shows up on a map; it’s unlikely that anyone outside of maybe the Lusitanians or Brizians would even recognize her.

FC: Amanda Arcuri, color-code 5e8eb8

N/A

Instagram: @chellybelly

Mantua, occasionally spelled out as ‘The Duchy of”.

The king and queen (Technically, the duke and lady) are Dorian Magia and Marina Monteverdi – the lady elected not to take her husband’s name due to her own proud family heritage. The duke is 52 and the lady 49. They have three children – Lyra, who’s eighteen, Iris, who’s sixteen, and Luca, who’s twelve.

Forest green, imperial violet, and white.

- Tinysmol bastion of progressivism, even more radical when compared to its neighboring Lusitania
- Lots of high-value commodity exports, some industrial and tech and a fair amount of agriculture – it’s all very fertile land
- Tourist hotspot! “the living renaissance”, as certain tour companies say, Mantua is still a thriving artistic community, with fine art, literature, theater and film still booming several hundred years after the start of the Renaissance.
- Notably secular – they have little interest or commonality with either the old-god pagan Lusitanians or the surrounding remnants of the catholic Holy Roman Empire and they prefer to keep it that way. Some amount of Lusitanian paganism spills over into the point below this one but for the most part they’re exceptionally good at the separation of church and state.
- An obsession with magic and the arcane – the tradition of tarot started in the vicinity of Mantua in the 1400s and the medieval obsession with such forbidden arts has only grown even stronger.

- Got off the crazy train of Lusitania in about 760 AD as their tribalish proto-empire began to crumble once more. Mantua existed as a “free imperial city” for a long while, fending off the HRE; became a duchy under the Holy Roman Empire in the mid 1500s. As the HRE lost control of various lands Mantua was quick to take back its sovereignty, and has (mostly) quietly existed since the mid-1700s as its own entity. That said, it kept its titles related to being a duchy because of the historical significance. It regularly confuses outsiders. In 1815 Lusitania tried to reconquer them and it ended spectacularly badly for the Lusitanians. They now share a border in “amicable” peace – Mantua has no desire to conquer anyone, though the Lusitanians know that they absolutely could.

N/A yet!