[IC] 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 (Page 58)

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Time: Evening 
Location:  Damien Estate
Interactions:
Mentions:
Attire: ??? 

A costumed ball. An event, nay a spectacle so very few peasants get the pleasure to experience the splendors and delights rumored to always follow. Whom could perchance pass up an opportunity to not only dress up, but to disguise? Faces hidden, conversations hushed with the air rife with anticipation and excitement. 

For whatever Count Calbert had prepared for tonight, it was clear the Damiens put in all the stops. Now, no one would foolishly say this could rival the extravagance of the castle’s ballroom, though that did not perturb the staff who were surely made to work to the bone since morning to prepare such a gala.

One so lovingly illuminated with the dazzling bright hue of the moon. 

How perfectly fitting.

Colorful flowers offer distractions and pleasant aromas to keep guests soothed and content.
Pampered sheeps easily made content, blind to the truth lurking just beneath. 

The finest banquet none can find anywhere else in Caesonia. Free to partake and enjoy.
No more a perfect opportunity to indulge and let loose without a care, as long as faces remain hidden.

A party for fun, to create stories, to show off. Here, where only monsters, ghouls and worse would be mingling tonight. Each person enjoys the illusion of being something different, something not them…something fantastical.

A foggy night where many fright and screams will break through the bleak night. A festive time had by all!

With the party starting to swing into full motion with guests still filing in; always followed with a dramatic pause. Each time being met with rolled eyes from those not impressed which mostly consisted of the staff and a few of the good nobles among other unseen others, the masks proving it nigh impossible to keep track of folks.

So much so, that it made a certain peasant question why Calbert went out of his way to host such a party? One that he got a personal invitation to. An invitation repeatedly told by friends and a certain wet blanket guard alike to refuse.

Even now, the vile bastard’s words went through his mind like an unsettling chill down his spine. The sheer and complete utter audacity that gun toting maniac had to not only approach him during his beach day, but with an invitation to his death.

That’s right. Somewhere waiting in this so-called party was a trap. Everything likely prepared ahead of time; all Calbert needed at this point was for the special cowlicked guest to arrive.

This assumes Kazumin was stupid enough to actually go, especially after being suggested otherwise. As anyone with a brain would know to steer clear, no matter how much delicious food and potent booze were being offered.

And if the blonde peasant did choose to come for whatever stupid reason, he would surely come with some obnoxious costume and get up to his typical antics. An easy mark and target sure to be caught sooner than later. 

Who knew whatever wickedness the count had in store. It was just a matter of time before Kazumin would give himself up and have a noose as his dance partner..or worse.

All of these thoughts and more went through his head at some point. How frustrating, however, to see all those people digging into food and laughing it up with a gay ole time. 

It was a peculiar thing to behold, Kazumin thought as he quietly walked and maneuvered his way around guests. 

He went unnoticed; none bothered to acknowledge his presence as he continued on; carefully sidestepping partygoers; walked past the table ignoring the seductive pleading, the faint clinking of glass heard as he went. 

Interactions: @Princess Charlotte Vikena @Helo Leo Smithwood

At a table a short distance away and behind the pair, a black gloved hand lowered, grabbing hold of something from the table. 
Quietly, the figure approached until they were three steps away, when a throat clearing cough came from behind.” Pardon the interruption.” A soft, sophisticated and suave voice spoke up.” I have brought refreshments.” 

As the server stated, a round tray soon appeared between the two with three glasses of freshly poured bubbly wine sitting waiting.” And for the lovely lady.” As would soon be revealed, the glass closest to Charlotte had a lily resting gently within, moonlight reflecting from the droplets leaving it an almost glittering glow. 

“ A moon Lily fitting for only the most beautiful butterfly.” The server said before bowing his head; raising it shortly after as she had accepted the wine with gratitude.” Forgive me, my lord. As a flower would not do as a token, but perchance a compliment regarding the slippers shall suffice?” His attention directed to Leo as he spoke. 

The server asked; standing there wearing the typical garb of a male server. Clean without a single wrinkle, hair black as coal, combed and slicked back neatly and slightly tanned skin, though something about the hair felt out of place.. The same plain mask worn by the rest hid the man’s face, expression blank under it save for a small forced smile, the same kind one would see on any staff’s face. 

A thin mustache adorned his upper lip ending with curly tips, much like a twirling villain may sport, albeit smaller.

“ For it takes a fierce man to don such exquisite footwear, wouldn’t agree, my lady.” Again the server bowed his head in respect. Doing so in a war to have half his face obscured to Leo while Charlotte would receive a wink followed by a small motion of his towards one of the pillars. Charlotte had nodded and mouthed that she’d be there in a moment when  Leo’s head was turned. 

Waiting until he was properly dismissed as he was told by the head server.” Please enjoy your evening.”

Without another word, the server turned with tray held in hand, he would depart. Making his way towards said pillar; pausing at times to serve any that may call for him along the way. 

Afterall, what better way to hide than among those already invisible? 

And this was merely the start. The server thought with a devilish grin, the mask almost giving a creepy imp like appearance.

The real show has yet to begin.

( Note= those at damien's party wish to call this server to them in their post. Feel free to )

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Lava Alckon

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Farim, John & Wulfric

Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Early afternoon

Farim could not help but show a look of pride at the mention of him being a legend. He smiled and nodded at Dr. John’s words. “I am flattered to be thought of as a legend. I simply look to provide what I can for the good people of my country and even further beyond its borders.” He paused to do an open palmed gesture towards the doctor. “Such as someone in your line of work seeks to help others, I very much share that notion, even if some may view me as a pragmatic persuasion.” His arms now crossed, and his stance become slightly more casual.

“The main point of my wanting to meet with you is simply that there is a rather short supply of medical experts in my homeland. Sure we have some, but very few and far between and half of them ill-equipped to tackle the problems of modern medicine.” Farim’s hand moved to hold his chin between his finger and thumb, as if to mimic a thinking posture while relaying this plight. “This is not a problem that can be fixed overnight, but I feel that it may be necessary to start expanding my branches out to that of your field, Dr. John. Perhaps even send a few willing participants to do … oh how is it said… an internship?”

The hand moving his chin now rolled at the wrist as if to passively dismiss any initial suspicions with his next line. “Of course, not for free. Proper payment and all. We can talk about the details over some lunch perhaps? That sandwich was good but I would not mind grabbing another bite somewhere local. Have you found any good places around here?” Farim poised the offer, wondering how the man before would think of all this. If the proposal was outright rejected, perhaps some good food could at least come out of it.

“Oh for sure. It’s going to be a little technical with what I’m involved with, so not a bad idea.” John leaned his head slightly. This one he actually knew a little bit more than Farim might expect. “I know a nice little place with noodle soup. It’s not in the fine dining area, but in the tavern area funnily enough. According to what I heard, it was, and probably still is, a soup kitchen for the nearby hospital, and that patients loved their food enough that it spread through word-of-mouth, so now it grew into a restaurant after a decade or two.”

John’s eyes seemed to glow like a little kid, as if it was a personal memory. “It’s a niche taste though, I hope that’s not too far off for you.” But he remembered that he was talking to high-class Alidasht royalty, not to his colleagues, so that might not be their thing. But still, after his times both in high and low, he always remembered that place as an example that not everything for the commoners is bad.

Farim’s hands clapped with enthusiasm, and he gestured with his hand off into the distance, prompting Dr. John to ‘lead the way’. “The best meals come from all corners of the world. I shall not turn my nose up at something that has yet value to be appraised. That and the nature of our discussion is rather fitting for such an atmosphere. I shall come with, so long as my…attire is of no consequence.” He realized wearing a wet-suit to a kitchen may not be the most socially fitting image, so he whistled to one of the nearby guards left from Layla’s ensemble. He dusted off any remnants of sand from his earlier scuffle with them and made a request. “Would you mind either fetching or finding someone to fetch my robes hanging off my bed frame? I assure you my cousin would not mind your absence for an hour.” His tone was pleasing and his demeanor friendly, and despite the guard looking frazzled and worried, he nodded and quickly hurried off into the distance. “There, at least I can cover up slightly, eh? Lead the way, good sir.”

As the Varian doctor and the Alidasht prince were conversing, making their way towards an eatery at a leisurely pace, an unlikely figure caught sight of them. The first prince of Caesonia himself, mounted atop his steed, which was trotting towards the beach. He had intended to head towards a more secluded part of the beach, and go for a swim, but seeing two men he wished to speak to changed his mind. Steering the horse towards the pair, Wulfric called out to them with a, “Gentlemen, good day.” He wasn’t loud, but his firm greeting carried to them well.

Once he was close enough, he dismounted, giving each man a nod. “Please excuse me for interrupting what seems a thoroughly engaging discussion. However, I had hoped to speak to each of you, so seeing the both of you together by happenstance is an opportunity I would rather not pass by. Provided you do not mind me joining you, of course,” he smiled charmingly.

That’s a face John didn’t expect right there: the Prince himself. On a horse as well, a very fairy tales evoking image, but charming nonetheless. But assuming all good faith, he was happy to entertain the discussion.

“Oh, you are very welcome to, Prince Wulfric.” John gave him all the greeting gestures one could’ve expected. “We are on our way for a meal. I am certain the humble restaurant would be equally honored to be visited by your highness.”

Farim had not expected the company of the eldest Danrose, but nonetheless he had a big smile to greet the man as he approached. With a bow he gave his greetings to Wulfric. “My, many surprises await me today. This one at least very pleasant. Your steed, they are quite the majestic creature.” Farim admired the horse with reverence and would softly stroke its mane should he earn the right.

“Indeed, he is,” Wulfric agreed, and permitted the Alidasht prince to pet the beautiful black-coated horse.

A quick movement would be noticed from the sidelines as the guard from earlier approached the trio with a finely knitted silk-lined robe - as per Farim’s request. He took the clothing and donned it quickly, making short work of the wrapping necessary to secure it. “There, less revealing to the public eye this way.”

“Ah, yes, that is for the best. After all, we wouldn’t want to risk someone fainting,” Wulfric was clearly amused, a head tilt indicating several gawkers who had a plenty to stare at. Two royals, one of whom had been strolling along the streets in a swimsuit to boot. 

“By the by,” he suddenly added, “I happened to meet Thara the other night, when you had sent her to my sister.” He raised a brow at the other man, mildly interested in just how companionable the two of them were. “A beautiful raptor, truly - is she not with you today?” he inquired after the bird.

Farim silently thanked the momentary distraction of clothing himself as he would think of just how to respond to Wulfric’s unexpected words. He had indeed sent a random animal to his sister’s bedroom in the dead of night - but he calmed his nerves and reassured himself with his next statement. “Anastasia had done me a great kindness in my stay here. She had shown me the city and the lovely festival you all were holding. She had seemed a little off when we had parted ways so I repaid her kindness with kindness of my own, a habit that I hope you are fine with, Prince Wulfric. Thara is a beautiful falcon. One whom I cherish dearly. She is resting in my chambers, likely tired after being out all evening. The fact that she returned unharmed despite your discovery of her is a kindness I won’t forget either.” He said with a chuckle before moving with the group to their destination.

The Shahzade seemed a tad nervous, which clued in Wulfric that he might have an eye on his sister. “Of course. Anastasia did appreciate your thoughtful gesture, after all,” he agreed. This situation did amuse him; Farim was acting as if instead of the bird, what he’d found in her bedroom was the Alidasht prince himself, in the nude. “Not to worry, Shahzade. I shall reserve my overprotectiveness for my sister’s potential suitors, not their pets,” he reassured with a smirk. Though his tone was lightly teasing, his gaze was thoroughly assessing as he considered the foreign royal.

The distance to the intended restaurant did not take long at all, and to no one's surprise, their arrival was quite a sight. An Alidasht royal and a Caesonian prince amongst the common diners. Gossip quickly began not atypical of Caesonian habits, of what their purpose here was, as well as who was the third man in company. One might think he was a servant, but his seat and the two royals formed a complete circle. 

“There you go.” John passed the menu to the two. “It's a smaller menu than usual. I would recommend their special noodles with herbs and pork. But if you have any allergies or religious restrictions, they’re probably flexible with the meat.”

Farim looked over the options and couldn’t help but ponder the variety of things he had scarcely seen or heard of outside of cultural exchanges or themed restaurants back home. There was the chance to try a particularly interesting soup that still seemed familiar to him. “I think I shall try this special soup. It seems lovely!” He asked before handing his menu away to whomever would take it.

Wulfric hummed as he quickly flipped through the menu. “Roasted pork for myself,” he decided.

After ordering their meals, John leaned back on his chair and looked around at both Wulfric and Farim with a friendly smile. “Anyway, now that we’re settled in, I am happy to answer and discuss any subjects you have.”

Farim nodded, and took a more serious expression while keeping up the cheery and charismatic demeanor. “Well, on my end, I simply wish to discuss things trade-worthy. I am a man of many deals and know where to find good arrangements. I see potential in a medical partnership between you and I, Dr. John. Imagine the good for everyone if you could show some fresh hands the ins and outs of medicinal practice?”

His hands now linked together, fingers intertwining as he leaned on the table. Farim’s gaze shifted now to Wulfric. “And if there is anything you need, dear Prince Danrose. You are certainly welcome to ask me whatever it is that may be on your mind.” Farim had heard of Wulfric from Anastasia, albeit briefly, and he was rather excited to meet the impactful prince in the flesh. Farim’s curiosity over both him and Dr. John's response would make any restaurant seem like fine dining to him.

“So, the two of you are arranging for internships?” Wulfric raised a curious eyebrow. “A fine way to advance medical knowledge in your country,” he gave an acknowledging nod to Farim, “since Varian is known for their advances, and you are one of their renown physicians,” his gaze landed on the doctor. However, he did not intend to pitch in; he deemed the existing exchanges between Caesonia and Varian acceptable.

“As for your offer, Shahzade, I shall keep it in mind. I am most intrigued to learn more about your trading pursuits. Investing was once a very active hobby of mine, but it is far less hands-on compared to your endeavors.” He leaned in as he said so, which was an evident sign of his interest. He believed they could talk about business in depth, and there was the potential for him to gain some unexpected insights. “However,” he straightened in his seat, “let us shelve that for another time. When the two of you conclude your previous discussion, I will address another matter.”

“I would love a partnership for sure, though like I said, it would get pretty technical.” John rubbed his hands together as he quickly glanced at Wulfric before settling on Farim. “You see, my doctor title can be misleading. I indeed nurse people back to good health, and it is my official role here as a Royal Physician to personally tend to our monarch’s health, but being a Varian Institute member, I work on a variety of other things, like medical research or public health.”

That and also one more responsibility that he decided against revealing, one that he had a complex relationship with but couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride in. It was also more of an internal Varian mechanism to keep the boots of their sovereigns from the necks of the people, so it was not widely known, not even to some people in the Varian government itself. So that, unfortunately, Farim would have to miss out on.

“So you have quite some choices. I assume since you’re more of a trader, a medical research partnership might sound enticing? An opportunity for Varian and Alidasht to exchange medical knowledge, and also medical supplies to each other.”

Farim’s eyes shifted between the two, taking ample slow breaks in his train of thought to process what all had been given to him. The exchange was going precisely how he desired it to go. “Well, Prince Wulfric. I shall happily indulge whatever matter you may be curious about. I do not have to make a deal out of every interaction, of course, so I am not shy to simply discuss whatever topics may plague your curious mind.” He waved for a nearby attendant and asked for a glass of water. 

While said glass was being retrieved, Farim straightened his posture and placed one leg over the other as he talked. “As for the idea, Dr. John, knowledge is precisely why I came to you in the first place. The tangible supplies can be supplements for a more immediate result on my ledger, but the exchange of knowledge can be a fairly lucrative arrangement. Perhaps some of my more willing participants can elect to become more long-standing medical assistants, nurses, and the like as a way of ‘paying back’ for your time in showing them the ins and outs of the medical world?” As the attendant returned with a glass of fresh water, Farim gracefully took it in hand and took a long drawn out sip before placing the glass on the table. With one-third of the glass already gone, he did not quite realize how parched he was.

“Tentatively, it’s no big deal, but you can always send over the profile of who you had in mind. For a review and maybe an interview, I would say.” All in standard procedures.

Wulfric caught the doctor’s glance. He wondered what it signified. Rather than discovering the reason, mulling over John’s words gave him an idea. “If it is advancing medicine based on a research partnership, then I do have something in mind.” He turned to the doctor to address him. “I do not know if this would be in your purview, but I understand that for the remainder of your stay, you will now act as some sort of representative for the Varian medical community?” He waited a moment for John to confirm this, or else to clarify it. The prince had heard mention of it, but he wasn’t clear on the specifics.

John raised his eyebrows. That information got out quickly. “You can say that, yes.”

“Consider this idea then, doctor. A joint partnership for research of antibiotics.” He paused to gauge John’s and Farim’s reactions. “I believe that sharing of material resources, personnel, and of course, knowledge, would significantly expedite the research process. The sooner we learn how to optimize the production, the better, no?” It was obvious he wanted to implement this on an international level, so his proposition was basic but clear-cut to test the waters.

“Hmm, antibiotics is a fun one.” John pondered for a moment. He did consider the Prince’s words a bit more than Farim’s. His expressions were low-key but there was excitement lurking beneath. “I won’t jump the guns on what my fellow colleagues desire yet, but at the very least, we do want to see this increasingly life-saving technology put into use, so I will put in good words of your highness’s offer. If it were just me, I would be ecstatic to have the Caesonians onboard.”

“Excellent,” Wulfric smiled faintly. Have them onboard, was it? He supposed the doctor considered this one of Varian’s flagship projects. Well, it was natural each side would see themselves as the more prominent one, or try to gain such preeminence. As long as they still managed to find some common ground, though, that was just fine. “Then I will refer to you a formally written offer and proposal. I am certain we can garner enough interest on both sides to see this realized,” he concluded.

Farim observed the two begin their own form of negotiations, and nodded approvingly. This was the kind of deal-making he certainly loved being a part of. He looked off to the left and noticed a few people approaching with their ordered foods, his stomach almost seeming more empty as the promise of good food made its way to the table. He took a pause and a sip from his soup, and despite its scalding hot temperature, still drank the spoonful he had rather quickly. With a satisfied but quick sigh, he rebuttaled.

“I suppose I have not given any real meat to the constant mention of our arrangement, dear doctor. For the candidates, I shall pick some of our finest up and coming medical professionals for you to meet and you shall judge them worthy or unworthy of your teachings. As a subsidization for such a service, I can promise a few things. What immediately comes to mind is the procurement of the rare desert flora that we commonly use in our herbal remedies - ones that fight off fungal and bacterial infections like no other. But if there is another particular ingredient or possible item you require, simply name it.” He took another spoonful of hot soup and graciously sipped it. “As for Caesonia, since this has now become a proper triumvirate of sorts,” he suggested with a sly grin.

“You spoke of investing, no? What might some particular needs of this fine kingdom be? If antibacterial medicine between Varian and Caessonia is on your radar, perhaps there is some form of collaboration for us all to contribute towards? Or do you prefer the more one-on-one style of negotiation~?” With this, Farim’s more true nature of business began to glitter and shine. His voice carried a casual connotation yet the words he spoke were professional in intent. His offers were open-ended and rather pleasurable to the foreigners - something he hoped would help him win their favor, or perhaps even spill some crucial details. He fully intended to keep his promises to the two men, but it couldn’t hurt to learn a little extra information here and there.

“Perfect. I don’t think we will have much issues with the deal, practically speaking.” John replied to Wulfric, just as he noticed the food coming out. He promptly settled in with his own noodle soup before answering Farim. “Oh, you’re too kind, Farim. I do not really expect subsidies, not at least until we proceed with the onboarding process anyway. Like with Prince Wulfric, we like to offer on more…say…edge conditions, but in reality, it often goes a lot smoother.” It really seemed like the way he spoke, of a more cautious investigator and scientist seemed to rub it a bit weirdly on these gentlemen, who were more tradesmen than he was. “But herbal remedies are good subsidies nonetheless. You do not know how much we northsmen love those.”

As for the offer…

“I certainly don’t have a problem with the collaboration. At the end of the day, national pride is really a thing to be concerned of, as long as the public benefits from it.” He made his opinions clear. Especially as a Caesonian by blood and Varian by adversity, he saw that as both potential nuisance in the collaboration, as well as a non-starter as it should be.

Wulfric nodded to the doctor in affirmation. The food arrived, and he gave it a try as John and Farim conversed. The meat was fattier and of poorer quality than he was used to, making the soup unpleasantly thick. He supposed commoners considered this a hearty meal. However, the taste of the ingredients blended well enough together in the broth. Thankfully, the noodles weren’t overcooked either. Overall, he’d mark it as another odd meal, which was not at all up to par compared to his usual fare…but it was acceptable for what it was.

“Hm, for Alidasht, building upon our existing trade agreements would be my go-to. Of course, that isn’t only a matter of the demands and interests of my country, but of yours as well, Shahzade.” To start with, Wulfric offered a more generalistic answer, corners of mouth curling up in light amusement. Apparently, Farim was the type to do his utmost to become ‘someone who provided’, so that when one had a need to fulfill, he’d be the first in their minds. Not bad as far as strategies went.

“I wouldn’t mind a few of those samples you’ve offered to the doctor, either. Novelty items have their niche,” he added. “Though, if you are saying you wish to join that medical project, I would be receptive to your contributions. Do feel free to send in a proposal.” Preferably, it would be an agreement between the nations, rather than just Farim’s company pitching in. Though, depending what was on the table, even just that could be advantageous.

He gave a curious look to the doctor at his last words. “Oh?” he raised his brows. “Now that is a sentiment not many claim,” he commented. “I have no doubts we will have to deal with the matter of national pride, as you say. However, as long as rivalries do not take precedence, competition can be balanced out with cooperation,” he rolled a shoulder in an elegant shrug.

Farim continued nursing the scolding soup - its warmth slowly fading as the time passed. As he worked on the broth and finally began to hit the herbs and the pork, he noted an appreciation for some rather simple yet effective combinations. This was a meal meant to be cooked en masse to the public, and provide some slight bits of flavor all the same. A nod of approval from Farim noted he rather enjoyed the meal he was having as the two continued their rebuttals.

“Doctor John, it is the least I can do for such an arrangement. It is very customary for a ‘give-and-take’ as you say. But if you would simply prefer the presence of my best and brightest, then I shall indulge you in that very manner. You shall see some resumes come across your desk here soon, let me know if you find anyone worth the journey.” He took a few purposeful dips of his spoon into the broth, maintaining a modest pace after his initial sprint into the meal. He wanted to savor the pork of this dish in particular, his grin of satisfaction evident to the others as he enjoyed a few more bites.

Once he had a momentary pause in between his bites, he took note of Wulfric’s comments, and noted the rather tactful political view the young man held. It was only natural for someone to look at the bigger picture, even something as simple as a trade between the three individuals would necessitate the attention of many third parties. Doing such dealings outside the public eye would likely seem suspicious or contain bits of nepotism, so Farim agreed with the overall idea of acting as a member of Alidasht, not as a sole beneficiary. 

“You make a good point, Prince Wulfric. I hope I do not seem too hasty. I assure you, my actions are in the interest of the Sultanate, the Royal Crown, and the Governing Council of Varian. I am simply gauging interest, forging arrangements, and getting whatever details make this particular back and forth of ours the best it can be!” He gave out a slight hum as he began to think over the details, his finger idly tracing what appeared to be numbers on the wood of the table. As strange as the motions looked, Farim was merely doing quick imaginary math to “run the numbers” as some would say, before looking to the two with a reassuring and confident smile. “In terms of what I can contribute, I shall throw in a care package of Alidasht local medicine for both Caesonia and Varian to study, either alone or together. A stack of resumes on the good doctor’s desk, and a proposal of varying contributions from the Sultanate on the young prince’s desk by the end of this week. Hopefully sooner, shall we drink on this arrangement or is there more to be discussed?”

“Not much from me. I look forward to seeing them then.” John replied. taking his enjoyment of the soup in a more reminiscent manner. Because unlike the two here, this was the soup of his childhood. His Caesonian days were not poor, but the uncostly meal always gave him a nice reason to come back, and naturally the taste had left its marks. Like the familiar summer wind, John savored both the familiar and the new that had moved on without his memory, letting the two exchange their words, as well as giving a think on if and what he should answer Wulfric’s last inquiry.

“Oh yeah, that’s just a personal thing I live by…” John looked up from his trip down memory lane. “I was born Caesonian after all.” He kept it as short as possible. He still remembered that it was Wulfric’s father that exiled him, but a part of him did not want that to affect his relationship with the man. 

“The Sultanate, eh?” John tried changing the topic as he looked at Farim. “Admittedly, I’m not well-versed in Alidasht royalty, but you are related to the Grand Vizier, is that correct? Just a curious question.”

Layla did mention him as her cousin, and the Grand Vizier himself is a fairly enigmatic person from the outside point of view other than a rather polite front. For a royal though, John would not be surprised if he’s a cunning man in secret. It takes one to know one: niceness doesn't go very well in a royalty setting.

Wulfric gave a firm nod to Farim. “Appreciated,” he stated simply, yet genuinely. The man was eager, yes, but also quick on the uptake. Wulfric was glad to see he agreed that this shouldn’t be viewed merely as a deal between individuals. He lightly chuckled at a part of the Shahzade’s statement. “I am not usually called young by people younger than myself,” he commented, drily joking. “I shall be looking forward to your message, however, and you can expect a prompt response in return,” he wrapped up their talks.

He did have something else to discuss, but he was momentarily distracted by John’s comment. Wulfric gave him a thoughtful look. He had known the man’s original nationality, but didn’t expect him to bring it up in conversation. It was a sensitive topic. The doctor didn’t show overt resentment, but it was clear he’d rather not discuss this at length. “And now you are Varian,” the prince stated softly. His words were heavy with meaning as his gaze lingered on the doctor.

But then John changed the topic, and the moment was broken. That was likely for the best. Though, unknowingly to the doctor, he treaded straight into another delicate matter. “He is that man’s son,” Wulfric supplied neutrally, while raising a brow at Farim. From that morning meeting after the party, it was evident the two didn’t get along, to say the least. He would let the Shahzade reply as he would, of course, but he was also providing an ‘out’, as it were. Besides, it would be annoying if they finished their meeting before he addressed what he’d initially wished to.

“There was something else,” he spoke up after Farim gave the doctor whatever answer he so chose. “It was discovered that the one renting the warehouse where that party incident occurred is the Black Rose merchant company, which is owned by Marek Delronzo. If you have any dealings with them, whether past or future, I would suggest caution. And if you happen to unearth any information, do pass it along.”

He let the two think on his words, watching their reactions. He was curious if those names meant anything to them. Wulfric then turned to John. “That night, my siblings had a sample of their blood taken, since the queen was there to issue her permission for the procedure,” he relayed briefly. 

“So far, our physicians have only discovered traces of alcohol in it. Requesting those reports on your side shouldn’t be an issue. If there is, feel free to notify me,” the prince told him seriously. “I hope your party and ours will be able to compare their findings. As for the samples, I am sure you understand that access to them is restricted.” Naturally, royalty and their health was a subject which warranted the highest caution.

Farim noticed the terse tone in Dr. John’s voice, and couldn’t help but curiously ponder why his nationality was such a hot topic between the two men here. But that train of thought quickly burnt out at the mention of his own bloodline. His face grew slightly dour and he let out a click of his tongue at the question. He did not mean to be rude to the Doctor, but it was almost instinct to Farim to despise being associated with that man. This only lasted for a moment, as he recalled the situation he was in and the decorum best suited for it. He turned his head to meet the sound of Wulfric’s voice, a slight nod confirming the man’s suspicion. 

“You are correct. I am his first born son. But just because I am the Sultan’s nephew does not change my personal relationship with him - we are all family.” His smile returned as he addressed Wulfric’s comment. “I can call you whatever you please, Prince Wulfric. But my apologies if calling you young was unbecoming. Your demeanor and looks betray your age.” Farim calmly sipped from his bowl as he threw some flattery Wulfric’s way. But then the conversation turned to a more interesting matter. The party last night was still a mystery yet to be solved, and Wulfric provided some fairly important information right off the bat. Farim could not help but wonder what else the young wolf had discovered during his investigation.

“It is certainly refreshing to know I was not actually poisoned. I hardly assumed I was, for I would likely be dead or needing to resort to my increasingly relevant supply of antivenom. But it does beg the question, why the memory loss? Why host such an event?” Farim paused, the name of that particular company ringing a bell as he continued his train of thought. “I cannot say I would not be glad if the Black Rose is caught up in a scandal. They are quite the industry titan amongst trading empires. But to resort to something like drugging several powerful nobles. This Marek fellow would need to have quite the pair of -” Farim let out a quick cough. “Well, you know. If you would like extra hands in this investigation, I may also know a few people who can dig up some information. I refrain from immediately doing this out of respect for your country’s process, but if the culprit still eludes us, then I am happy to offer any aid I can.” Despite the Prince’s answer, Farim had half a mind to call some of his friends in low and high places to find out more about this Black Rose. For now, he had a name, a place, and a company that could be shadowing a much darker secret. All figurative thoughts for now, but his face showed no signs of scheming - only his pleasantly trademarked grin.

Amusement curled Wulfric’s lips at Farim’s answer. Being complimented on his looks was one thing, but to say that the way he acted exuded youthfulness struck him as humorous. He hummed thoughtfully as the Shahzade latched onto the given topic. “The current assumption is that it might be a fast-acting, unknown drug, one that is difficult to detect…” he trailed off. He wouldn’t mention the other possibility, namely magic. “I could only speculate on how your memories were affected.” That wasn’t strictly a lie.

“But as to why? The answer is clear enough. For one, it makes the situation more of an unknown. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Delronzo has evidence of you in compromising positions and intends to use it for blackmail, for example.” Having finished the soup, he set an arm onto the table, and leaned his head onto a palm. Though his demeanor and manner of speaking were nonchalant, his gaze was steely, hiding a promise of retribution to the culprit. “For another, because none of the guests remember that night, my siblings are still left with the illusion that Marek,” he sneered, “is a friend.” A point he was obviously unhappy with.

He straightened in his seat with a huff, though his expression was now once again impartial. “I frankly do not see why he would do this now besides as a means of sabotage,” he concluded. He gave Farim a long stare at his next words. “Since theirs is an international company, you might as well start investigating their activities in your country,” he stated curtly. He was too territorial to easily allow outside interference with something this close to home.

“It’s pretty much the same on our side: the memory loss detail is still a headscratcher. I will send you a copy of the initial report from our Corp of Physicians, although it will just be purely medical.” John looked over at Wulfric, his countenance having seemingly moved onto the new topic. “For anything criminal-related, I would suggest asking Sir Matthias or Sir Verrick. We don’t have that kind of jurisdiction to do that work.”

It was that quirk that surprisingly allowed the Varian to be more effective with their investigations, as violators would likely not downplay them in fear of prosecution. However, it did make things slower than how it would for other nations, which was more rough for the, quite frankly, drama-obsessed public. 

“I can’t say I know this guy Marek at all, and it is hard to predict motives at this point, considering most people have reasons to dislike the royals these days. As for the Black Rose, that’s not a bad idea either. If there are similar cases happening in our own nations that went under our radar, they can be important leads.” John added on some suggestions after Wulfric, with a more matter of fact tone, however. “They got to all our nobles so daringly. If they had done something similar before but on non-important targets, it might mean that they’ve grown confident. In that case, the discovery could be a breakthrough.”

In fact, the Varians may already have one, but they could not trust anyone else with the information just yet.

“I will nag them more on the Black Rose, if they haven’t already done their own.”

Farim listened intently to the two testimonies, and raised his hands up in a demonstration of passivity. “Fear not. My offer was merely that. An offer. It was not my intention to step over boundaries. As for my country - I am to await word on some potential activity along our coastline involving that particular company. There are rumors they are peddling illegal goods, and it will be a snowy day in the dunes before I let that kind of trade into my homeland.”

With his meal finished, and their meeting nearing its end, Farim rose up and clasped his hands together with a huff of air pushing through his nostrils. “This meeting has been very informative. I will make sure to follow up with you both in the coming days.” He gave Dr. John a modest bow with his arm crossing his chest. “Thank you for hearing my proposal, Good Doctor John.” Farim smiled before offering a similar bow to Wulfric. 

”Please take care.” The doctor gave both men his greeting, overall satisfied, but stayed behind to finish his meal and tipped the owners generously. 

“And same to you, Young Prince.” His smile turned into a more friendly smirk at the introduction of the word “young” once more. “If it does not trouble you I would ask you something else. We can chat by your horse so I will not delay you much longer.” With that, he rose up and gave a friendly wave to the pair before placing a small pouch of gold onto the table - more than enough for the three meals and then some. “Lunch shall be on me. Until our next meeting!” He spoke in a firm yet calm and friendly voice. He walked out towards where Wulfric had stabled his steed and waited patiently for the prince before going further.

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by SilverPaw

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Attire: The costume
Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Night
Location: Calbert Damien's Ballroom
Mention(s):
Interaction(s): @PapaOso Cassius
Wulfric had gone on to give a brief greeting to the nobles he recognized, or to those who were perceptive enough to recognize him. He noticed Drake lingering at the entrance, no doubt waiting for Sadie. He raised a wine glass he’d procured his way, but decided to leave the duke’s son be. He was indulging in one of his favourite alcoholic drinks when a new guest appeared. Wulfric didn’t recognize the latest attendee immediately, but when he did, he didn’t pay him any mind besides noting that he was taking to his newly gained status like a duck to water.

But then, the man in question decided to approach him, and from his first to last words, one thing was abundantly clear.

The man was a relentless flirt.

Wonderful, Wulfric thought sourly. Someone new to pester him. If only he could, in his heart of hearts, truly maintain that there was no temptation, this wouldn’t be nearly as annoying. At the very least, however, he had better taste than to consider such a swaggering braggart a prospect.

“Why, thank you,” he accepted the compliment, unperturbed. He did appreciate Cassius’ chosen motif for the costume, but the last thing he wanted was to give him ideas. Wulfric was sure the bastard would grow all the more irritatingly persistent if he thought he had even half a chance. Best to dissuade him right then and there.

“A seducer type, then?” His remark was bland, exhibiting the expectation that he would be bored by this interaction. “Your ilk think they are ever so unique and inventive, but is spewing tried and true lines as if you are following a script supposed to be appealing?” His tone was utterly indifferent, so much so that his words barely registered as an insult.

However, he displayed a modicum of intrigue at the introduction, his mask tilting in a show of avian curiosity. “Hmm?” So, Cassius was going by ‘Lord Damien’ already. Maybe this was now an event in honour of his introduction to noble society, as if he were a lady attending a debutante. Wulfric smirked to himself at the humorous notion.

“Ah, you haven’t been informed yet,” there was a hint of amusement in his tone. Finally, the prince turned to face him directly, deigning to grace him with the full weight of his attention. “Allow me to rectify your ignorance. You are speaking to the crown prince, Prince Wulfric Danrose.” The raven’s beak tipped down as he offered a short nod of acknowledgement. 

“I am feeling generous, so let me give you a piece of advice.” He considered the man as he twirled the wine glass between his fingers, and whether it was by skill or natural grace, the claws adorning his gloves left nary a scratch on the glassware, nor made so much as a metallic clink against the chalice. Entirely on instinct, he’d accounted for the potential damage his new accessory might cause, and prevented it with exquisite control.

He sipped at his drink before continuing, having no issues with the action despite his garb. “You should reserve your so-called charm,” the sneer in his tone indicated he didn’t think much of it, “for ladies.” A sigh followed as he took another sip. “This particular game you seem to favour is not one I choose to partake in. But you will find there are a plethora of players willing to indulge you.” He gestured with a hand to the ballroom, demonstrating the numerous other targets Cassius could pursue.


	^{Attire: The costume Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Night Location: Calbert Damien's Ballroom Mention(s): Interaction(s): @PapaOso Cassius}

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Tae

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Time: Evening
Location: Summer Solstice Celebration at Lover's Lake
Attire:Outfit
Interaction:@FunnyGuy Alexander, @Lava Alckon Farim, @ReusableSwordRoman
Mentions: [@InfiniteCosmos] Munir

Mina stood before the polished mirror in her temporary dwelling, her eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and apprehension. The white linen dress she wore clung to her frame, its simplicity contrasted by the deep red face paint that adorned her skin. With precise strokes, she had marked her cheeks and chin in patterns honoring the customs of this sacred ceremony.

Her eyes, normally a bright blue color, were now rimmed with coal, giving her gaze a mysterious intensity. Stag horns, beautifully adorned with intricate carvings, crowned her head, their curves echoing the grace of nature's own creations. Her hair, a wild cascade of curls, was left untouched, the untamed locks flowing around her shoulders like a fiery waterfall.

Her mind traveled to earlier that day when she had been engaged in conversation with the enigmatic Alexander Deacon. “I'm far more concerned with how you're doing. Something troubling you? Are you comfortable, Mina?" He'd asked her, her heart having skipped a beat briefly, before he continued. “If you like, we could schedule something. Just you and I. No distractions… No discomforts.”

She'd began giving him a reassuring smile, finding it flattering that he was so concerned for her well-being, whether it was genuine or not. "I'm quite alright, I promise. I'm a big, tough girl. I can tie my own heels and everything." There was quite a bit a cheekiness to her words and she was getting ready to banter more when she'd noticed her uncle looking her way shortly after he had given Munir's bodyguard a letter and she let out a soft sigh. "That sounds like a lovely idea, perhaps we can arrange a time to have some tea. I'd also like to meet your wife. However, it seems my uncle is in need of my presence." Indeed, the older man had seemed to be beckoning Mina over with his gaze. She'd dipped into a curtsy while informing Alexander she'd be in touch and then bid him farewell before heading over to her uncle. The rest of the day had been uneventful after that, spending it preparing for this moment right now.

Taking a deep breath, she felt a mixture of anticipation and reverence settle within her. This was not just a celebration; it was a connection to something primal, something deep-rooted in the earth beneath her feet and the vast sky above. She adjusted the horns on her head one final time, ensuring they sat securely amidst her curls, and then turned away from the mirror.

The air outside was alive with anticipation, carrying the scent of earth and pine. As she made her way towards the gathering, she felt a sense of unity with the land, with the people around her, and with the ancient spirits that they would soon call upon. Her barefooted steps were purposeful yet light, her heart echoing the beat of drums that resonated through the forest.

The setting sun cast a warm glow over the assembly, painting the scene in hues of amber and gold. She found herself drawn to the fire pits that would soon be lit with flames, the thought of it already whispering secrets of the night to come. As she approached, her eyes met Roman's, and in that moment, she felt an unspoken understanding pass between them.

With a steadying breath, Mina moved towards her friend, ready to embrace the ancient traditions that awaited them. She passed Munir's cousin, Farim, giving him a brief nod of greeting as he left Roman. The weight of the stag horns on her head seemed to anchor her, grounding her spirit in the midst of the mystical energy that surrounded them.

The night was young, and the forest held its breath in anticipation of the rituals yet to unfold. And amidst it all, Mina stood, a living embodiment of the sacred connection between the earthly realm and the divine, ready to embrace the mysteries of the solstice celebration. "You chose a beautiful spot, Roman. This place is perfect " She complimented him with a smile.

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by princess

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Time: Night
Location: The edge of Lover's Lake 
Attire:Dress, A crown of various flowers
Interaction: @Lava Alckon Farim  @Infinite Cosmos Munir @ReusableSword Roman @Tae Mina


Anastasia stepped towards the gathering, her guards trailing behind, while Roman's voice echoed through the air. She paused at the edge of the shadows, ensuring she wouldn't disrupt anyone's attention. Her eyes swept over the assembled guests, her lips curving into a smile. Yet, her expression faltered momentarily at something Roman said, though she swiftly pushed the concern aside. When she was certain Roman had concluded his speech, she stepped into the fading sunlight.

In her hands, she held a bouquet of freshly picked flowers, and she wore a simple, elegant long blue gown made of delicate, lightweight fabric. A flower crown, seemingly woven haphazardly, adorned her golden locks. Anastasia was glad she brought the flowers as she wanted to pay respects to the dead when she had the chance.

However, first she wanted to make sure she greeted everyone. First, she approached Roman and Mina, "Hello you two! You look great! ..." She offered both Roman and Mina hugs. Her eyes shifted to Roman, a glimmer of admiration sparkling in them.  "This is beautiful, Roman. I can't wait to experience it all." 

Anastasia then turned gracefully, acknowledging Munir, whom she had noticed nearby, with a sweet smile and wave, and then, her gaze swept over the rest of the attendees. Finally, her eyes found Farim, and without hesitation, she closed the distance between them. With arms outstretched, she enveloped him in a tight hug, her voice carrying a note of genuine delight. "Well hello again! I'm so happy to see you!"

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Tpartywithzombi

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Tpartywithzombi “Strong women are absolutely unpredictable.”

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“Strong women are absolutely unpredictable.”

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Time: Evening
Location: Dressing room - Edwards estate
Mention:@Lava Alckon Drake
Interactions: None
Appearance:Dress

The morning had unfolded with a whirlwind of events, and Ariella's experience was nothing short of tumultuous. Despite her fondness for the beach, the persistent sand managed to infiltrate every nook and cranny of her elegant dress, transforming the dressing room's floor into a makeshift shore.

Ariella's mother, however, seemed impervious to the sandy intrusion, preoccupied with scolding the lady's maids, barely acknowledging her daughter's discomfort. This chaotic routine involved a flurry of hair tugging, poking, and prodding, all while adorned with new and opulent makeup. Ariella endured the ordeal like an unyielding statue, arms extended in every direction as she was tugged and adjusted.

As time passed, Ariella's mind transported itself to a place of serenity, mentally retreating to the observation tower where she had shared an evening with her friend.
But as the minutes dragged on, the pain in Ariella's feet intensified, a reminder of just how long she had been standing. It wasn’t long after that the room cleared, and Ariella's arms slumped to her sides as she approached the dressing mirror. Her mother had indeed outdone herself this time, and not in a good way.

...It was horrible

The garish gown sprawled before her was a profusion of pink, littered with excessive ruffles and bows. Its hoop skirt could accommodate an entire family if she so desired. A sense of repulsion twisted Ariella's face as her gaze settled on the absurd puffed sleeves that swallowed her shoulders. This was supposed to be a masquerade ball, yet she felt more like a character from a circus act.

Anxiety seized her as she tugged on her sleeves, struggling to loosen the constricting corset that gripped her chest, her breaths quickening. She felt trapped, her hand resting on her belly in a futile attempt to calm her racing heartbeat. As panic continued to swell, Ariella dashed towards the door, her gown snagging in the frame as she desperately tried to free herself. With an almost superhuman effort, she managed to break free and wobbled towards Drake's room, intent on seeking refuge.

Inside her brother's room, Ariella finally found a sanctuary. Grateful that her brother had already left, she tore into the oppressive fabric with unbridled fury. Her hands ripped off the offensive bows and ruffles, sending them flying in a whirlwind of panic that transformed Drake's room into a graveyard of discarded fabric.

With trembling hands, she fumbled for the corset's laces, frantically undoing them. As the corset loosened and air flowed back into her lungs, Ariella's chest heaved with relieved breaths. Finally freeing herself of the abhorrent gown, she huddled within the hoop of her skirt, clad only in the dress's slip. The room seemed to close in around her as the enormous dome of fabric encased her.

"I can’t do this anymore…" she whispered, her voice a fragile plea of hurt.

Outside the door, Sebastian's keen ear caught the rustling sounds emanating from Drake's room, but Ariella's soft voice on the other side was unexpected. Lady Edwards had rarely ventured into her brother's room without an invitation, not since she was a child. Hearing Ariella's distress, he decided it was prudent to inform Drake of his discovery.

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Hidden 1 yr ago → 1 yr ago Post by princess

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963 posts

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Location:Damien Estate Ballroom
Time: Evening
Attire: Mask Suit
Interactions:@PapaOso Cassius @Tae Kalliope @Lava Alckon Drake, @Potter Olivia, @Apex Sunburn Sjan-dehk @Samreaper Kazumin @SilverpawWulfric @Helo Leo @JJ Doe Ryn


Calbert Damien was perched on the elegant railing overlooking the grand ballroom as he observed his guests. Far from the prying eyes of his guests, a subtle amusement played upon his lips. His hands traced the intricate carvings as if mapping out the evening's unfolding intrigue. His black suit was adorned with gold detailing and complemented by a menacing goat mask that concealed his features. There was certainly something to be found in those blue eyes of his: perhaps a glint of purpose and cunning.

With graceful steps, he paced along the railing, his hand still caressing the wood as his eyes swept the crowd like a seasoned general surveying a battlefield. Every movement was calculated, every glance deliberate. Once he had collected every game piece he desired, his gaze shifted with a predator's focus.

Now, he decided, was the opportune moment to greet his guests.

With a smile that was as enigmatic as the night itself, Calbert Damien greeted the room, his voice carrying through the air,  "Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you,"  he announced,  "...Tonight, we step into a dreamscape, one where elegance meets mystery." With a subtle nod, he signaled to the orchestra, their melodies shifting to a more enchanting tempo. He made his way toward the staircase and began his journey downward to join his guests.

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Hidden 1 yr ago → 1 yr ago Post by Potter

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Bio

Time: Afternoon > Evening 
Location: Damien Estate 
Attire:
☼Crown
☼Mask
☼Hairstyle
☼Dress
☼Shoes
Interactions: [@]Rodiak] Zarai 
Mentions:@Tae Kalli ☼@princess Charlotte, ☼@FunnyGuy Lorenzo 

The beach escapade had been cut short. Despite the passion she had for the sun’s rays, there was only so much of it she could withstand. The wandering eyes caused her to smirk haughtily while she strode along it, paying no mind to these bumbling vampires. The trip was not without hazard; a few stumbles at the beach had caused her temper to flare. Since she did not desire for the world to see her tripping, it caused her trip to end abruptly. In her palanquin, she drew the covers shut on each side and rested her head back against the walls. Kalliope’s voice r nag throughout her mind and the sight of the bastard red whore caused her stomach to churn. The guards remained silent since they knew she did not want conversation and were not fans of the viper’s bite. It would have been nicer if it was quiet; the lame music echoed in her mind and the sound of laughter and screams irritated her aching head. She sighed and began trying to meditate to push it out of her mind. If she could just….. 

When Layla returned to her room, she fell back onto the bed with a loud sigh. The beach scene ran through her mind repeatedly and she struggled to push it out of her mind. Farim’s words to her caused her to roll her eyes and wonder what the fuck he was talking about. The trip had been worth it, she told herself. Charlotte looked scared of her. This thought caused her to chortle until her stomach ached; what a fool. How did she achieve so many friends? The laughter at her expression continued, until she remembered the Duke’s humiliation, and the laughter slowly died. Fury rushed through her once more and she sat up with a groan. How was he allowed to live, to breathe, and be allowed near other nobility? Surely this was some sick prank upon them. Who trusted this bumbling, good-for-nothing jester of a duke to be left in charge of a city? How did Kalliope, the King’s whore, remember her fall at the ball? Layla scowled deeply and wished nothing but harm to the little whore. She shook her head and decided they would have their karma soon enough. She wrinkled her nose and clenched her fists, grabbed a silk robe and change of clothes, then abruptly moved to the bathroom. 

With hot water she both despised and loved, Layla scrubbed her skin until the thought of the Duke’s mustache on her legs was gone. Her mind clear now, she smiled softly. The masquerade was tonight; a chance to mingle and watch from afar. Tonight would be different from the beach. While she finished her shower, she sang quietly, knowing she would not be heard by her guards. She slipped the robe on and glanced at her masquerade outfit with a grin. Her heart rose inside her throat and she abruptly pushed it away. It would not do her well to linger on these thoughts; not when she had to prepare. 

Over the next few hours, Layla prepped for the event and was finally ready. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and grinned. There would only be one soul who matched her beauty, her grace, and her ensemble. With a grin, Layla kissed Zilal’s head and stroked him gently. ”I can’t bring you, my love, but I will return tonight.” He flicked his tail and curled back up, though she knew it brought him sadness not to go with her again. ”I’d bring you, but I can't stand hearing people complain about you. You’re much better than these people. You know that.” He flicked his tail again and she smirked at him, and then left her room. On her way out, she ushered her guards to bring her palanquin, because there was no way she’d walk to the Damien estate in these heels. Of course, it brought her joy to make such an entrance, and she’d be damned if anyone ruined this chance. 

Once she arrived, Layla ignored everyone until her gaze found her.

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Hidden 1 yr ago → 1 yr ago Post by Rodiak

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Rodiak 𝔪𝔦 𝔪𝔞ñ𝔞𝔫𝔞, 𝔪𝔦 𝔥𝔬𝔶, 𝔪𝔦 𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯

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Rodiak

𝔪𝔦 𝔪𝔞ñ𝔞𝔫𝔞, 𝔪𝔦 𝔥𝔬𝔶, 𝔪𝔦 𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯

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Bio

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L A D Y   Z A R A I   L E S D E M A N
L A D Y   Z A R A I   L E S D E M A N dress  ♖ crown  ♖ mask  ♖

D A M I E N   E S T A T E   ,   E V E N I N G

I N T E R A C T I O N S :

M E N T I O N S :
@Potter


After entertaining a hoard of suitors deemed enough by her mother, Zarai was drained. She’d spent the whole day trying to force small talk out of men who hadn’t been significant enough to get invited to the king’s tea party. Talk of the weather and today’s political climate had worn her down until the only thing she could possibly think of was the mercy of a shooting star crashing down the room she inhabited. 

If her mother truly wished for her to marry, stuffing her daughter in a drawing room to entertain lesser nobles was definitely not the way to go. However, Zarai had the feeling her mother had only done so to punish her. That woman always found such creative and new ways of punishment; it was amazing really.

At least it gave her time to plan out the evening. Since her mother was too busy to attend the ball with planning her own, she’d have the freedom to enjoy the food to her heart’s content. Zarai would rub elbows with some of the higher nobles and be seen dancing with a nice gentleman(or a couple). She’d eat as many crab legs and lobster tails as her corset would allow her, and she'd leave when everyone had drunk enough. 

And where would she go? She’d figure it out when the time came.

Zarai looked up from the fan she’d been playing with when she heard people outside talking and laughing. She drew back the curtains and peeked outside to see the Damien estate come into view. She could no longer see the chaos she’d witnessed two days ago, but instead, a steady stream of men and women draped with expensive costumes and matching masks waddling into the estate. 

“Almost like nothing happened,” Zarai commented as her carriage rolled to a stop and Sir Barrios opened the door. Calbert had been mad; he’d been red-faced and nostrils flaring as he ordered everyone around to try to collect his destroyed estate. She felt bad for any servant or worker who had probably broken their backs to make tonight’s extravagant ball happen. 

“My lady–” Sir Barrios began but was quickly interrupted by Zarai’s shake of her head. “No?”

“No, you will not wait for me here.” Zarai grinned up at the knight and patted his shoulder a tad too hard. “Well, you can certainly stay here… or visit one of the pubs with the driver.” She held up a finger when the knight began to protest. “You’ll find a small bag under my seat in the carriage; use it well, big boy.” She winked before turning on her heels and running into the ball, giggling.  

Zarai could already imagine herself snapping the crab legs in half with her bare hands. The meat practically melting in her mouth. All thoughts of food went away in an instant, however, when she laid eyes upon her. 


______________________________________	__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ^{_{L A D Y Z A R A I L E S D E M A N} _{L A D Y Z A R A I L E S D E M A N}_{_{_{dress ♖}_{crown ♖}_{mask ♖}}}} _{D A M I E N E S T A T E , E V E N I N G} _{_{I N T E R A C T I O N S :}} _{_{M E N T I O N S : @Potter}}

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by JJ Doe

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JJ Doe

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JJ Doe

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Fritz "Ryn" Hendrix
Time: Evening
Location: Damien Estate’s Ballroom
Interaction(s): Mysterious Servervant @samreaper

Ryn sauntered towards Lord Smithwood and a guest he presumed to be Lady Vikena, when a liveried servant appeared at their side. He pulled up short, hanging back to watch. Something about the fellow piqued his interest. His eyes followed the servant’s retreat, and soon his feet did too. 

Drawing up to the pillar where the servant took up station, Ryn studied every nuance of his features. Then he grinned in recognition, “Good evening, Mr. Vincent.” With a glance at the drink on the tray, he added, “May I?” At the man’s affirmation, Ryn lifted the glass and thanked him. He positioned himself beside “Mr. Vincent,” posing as another guest lost in the ball’s splendor. “I’m glad to see you looking better,” he remarked, pitched under the surrounding noise. “How have you been doing?” More importantly, “What brings you here?”

As if in answer, Count Damien made his entrance. “Him?”

Ryn was about to approach Leo and Charlotte, but a server beat him to it. The man seemed oddly familiar. Ryn decided to talk to him and realized why.
@Helo@princess@samreaper

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Hidden 1 yr ago → 1 yr ago Post by Helo

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Helo Wonderlust King

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Helo

Wonderlust King

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Seen 27 days ago

Lord Leo Smithwood

Time: Evening
Location: Masquerade Ball: Damien Estate
Interactions: Charlotte @princess and definitely not Kazu ??? @samreaper
Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter.
Predictable Costume: Leo the Lion


From beneath the golden visage of the lion mask, a pair of human eyes brightened at the sound of a familiar voice. “When walking into a lion’s den, dress accordingly.” A voice that was most unbecoming of a lion mused from beneath the mask. 

“Charlotte,” Leo dropped into a graceful bow, as if in the presence of true royalty and not simply an equal dressed as fae royalty. “Or should I say Your Grace, I appear to be in the presence of a fairy queen?” He said it like a question but the wings were enough of a clue for the amateur detective. The unnatural pitch of his voice, a constant source of agitation throughout the day, caused him to pause and clear his throat despite knowing it cured nothing. “I also seem to have picked up an odd cold, maybe an allergy to Sorian’s climate.” He added with a shrug. It was nothing. It would be an awkward and somewhat humorous story in no time. Leo just had to keep reminding himself of that. 

Before he could add anything else a servant approached and had the nerve to make an attempt to exchange pleasantries. The compliment toward his slippers was met with an obscured raise of an eyebrow. If a servant approved of his slippers, they were the wrong choice for tonight. Shit, should’ve tried to squeeze in a shopping trip. Leo mentally kicked himself for the mistake. He said nothing to the servant but took one of the offered glasses of bubbly wine. 

“Offly chatty servant.” Leo noted once the man had gone. “Dreadful excuse for a mustache too. Here I thought it was only the palace that scrapped up servants from the bottom of the barrel.” He whispered it with a slight chuckle. “Ah, and look, now Count Hendrix is chatting up the servant.” There was obvious disapproval in his tone, mismatched with the cartoonishly squeaky voice. 

His eyes moved to Count Damien as he entered the masquerade. “Speaking of mystery, I caught some strange observations at today’s tea party.” Leo, intended to pause, a comment on the ridiculous glasses Hendrix had taken to wearing caught in his throat, and instead the dreadful uncontrollable giggle fit manifested itself once again. The uproarious fit of laughter from a lion-masked guest quickly followed Count Damien’s entrance. 

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by SilverPaw

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Farim & Wulfric

Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Early afternoon

Farim had made his way to Wulfric’s horse, and during the pause in conversation before Wulfric made his way out, admired the horse once more. The stallion seemed well kept after, healthy, and a proper specimen of equine capabilities. Farim had scarce the time to interact with horses outside of Munir’s pet horse back home, and he enjoyed the chance to meet or interact with friendly creatures. But before he got too lost in thought, he readied himself for the conversation he prepared to have with Wulfric. From what he knew of the man, the news he planned to share could be taken in great strides or with curt malcontent. For Farim’s sake, he silently prayed for the former.

At a stranger’s approach without his owner present, the horse shook its tail and mane, snorting as it stomped one hoof against the ground. However, the prince’s familiar voice soon carried over, “Calm, Tio.” The stallion obeyed, then softly nickered in greeting, and Wulfric untied it from its post. The prince turned to address Farim. “You said you wish to speak about something, but it may be better to relocate. The middle of the street is hardly an appropriate place,” he suggested. “Any preferences on whether we remain outdoors or retreat indoors?” He would offer his office and the park as candidates, though if the Shahzade had something else in mind, he’d lead them there instead.

Farim took note of the idea of relocating, and nodded in agreement. Truthfully, back home, most conversations truly did just happen out in the open, amongst busy and crowded streets even. But this was just another one of the “little things” that made the customs of each land unique. “Ah, my apologies then. I am happy to discuss where you may prefer. I am actually heading back to the guest house where my family is staying once we have concluded. We could talk there or if you prefer somewhere closer to your family home, perhaps?” His usual cheery demeanor persisted, an uncanny smile placed on his face as he poked and prodded at the man’s preferences. If they were to reconvene, inside would likely be best, but he did not want to impose a location on the older brother after already taking up a fair portion of his afternoon.

“The guest house is fine.” It didn’t seem that the prince cared one way or another as long as they weren’t loitering right in front of a restaurant. Thus, he led his steed by the rope while walking alongside the Shahzade in silence. It was a quick walk to the building, as even without consciously hurrying, Wulfric’s pace was rather brisk. Once again, he tied Tio outdoors, and left him to wait after offering a few pats. He then headed straight indoors. The servants they passed issued quiet, polite greetings, while Wulfric simply gestured for them to be at ease and continue on as they were. He strode the direction of the reading room, and found them a secluded, private nook to sit and speak in. When Farim was settled in as well, he motioned for him to say his piece, looking towards the man with politely curious expectation.

The walk was indeed quicker than Farim had anticipated, finding himself lost in the prospect of what to say. Word choice was important, and delivery even moreso. Farim made sure to give the help a proper greeting all the same, and dismiss any of their constant attempts to offer food, beverage, or assistance. As they found themselves within the reading room, Farim turned to face the man, arms crossed and for the first time a more intense expression. He still spoke with a friendly tone but the concentration and subject matter still carried that aura of respect that he was sure would be important.

“Since coming here, I must say your nation is a lovely one. I have met a few individuals already, and have already begun to get into the rhythm of this entire courting season.” Farim’s hand moved, palm now facing the ceiling, as he did a slight shrug. “As informal as it may be to speak so matter-of-factly. That is one of the larger reasons we are all gathered in such large numbers, after all. The prospect of finding a suitable partner and all, whether for personal or political reasons.” He met Wulfric’s gaze as he talked, not wanting to look away or show meekness at such a pivotal time.

“It is to my understanding that when one is to…express interest in such a person it is customary to inform the eldest male figures of the family of such a thing. That is why, out of both respect and to clear any form of suspicion or curiosity, I wish to speak my intentions plainly so that you may either rest easy or double down on that ‘overprotectiveness’ that you mentioned from earlier.” He smiled slightly, still wanting to throw in some form of casual lighthearted conversation to hopefully ease the tension that he could feel building.

Wulfric gazed on impassively as Farim began talking, crossing one leg over the other. “So, you wish to court my sister,” he summarized. He observed the man, his piercing, cool gray-blue irises giving the impression of seeing through all. Informing him first rather than Edin was a good call on Farim’s part. That he’d approached this so formally was another point in his favour. After a tension-filled moment, the prince nodded once. 

“I believe you are serious in your intent, so I have no issues with you attempting it.” He steepled his hands together comfortably in his lap. “This might strike you as strange coming from me, but my sister is not your typical princess.” He imagined Farim knew that much, though he wondered if he was aware of the extent of her peculiarities. 

“If - and only when - you manage to earn her favour and her serious consideration of you as a potential partner will you have any hope for the courting process…perhaps even marriage. Anastasia wasn’t the type to settle for a purely political union, and he didn’t intend to force one upon her. Granted, it was because Farim was a royal that Wulfric acquiesced with such ease.

“Naturally, if you harm her in any way,” a chilling smirk arose, “You’d best be ready to give up at least one limb.” Despite the cool amusement, one couldn’t possibly mistake him to be joking.

The Trade Prince had a feeling the eldest brother would catch on quickly. Once Thara was seen in her bedroom, and with how frequently Farim and Anastasia had been together lately, it was only a matter of time. “Well, it would seem you have the core of my message figured out.” He adjusted his posture and calmed his nerves, seeing how Wulfric’s reaction was a rather tame one all things considered.

“But allow me to clarify some things.” His hand gestured towards himself. “I am not some con artist looking to steal a woman from her family. I am seeking love in the purest sense of the word. So, I only mention that I have eyes on your sister. If she has eyes on me, then it can be official. It is her choice after all.” Farim began to pace back and forth, slowly, as he talked. However his gaze was locked onto Wulfric’s eyes with a look that could only be described as genuine, yet serious.

“I am sure there are many others seeking her favor, so if she shall choose another I shall respect it.” He stopped in his tracks, his eyes shifting downward, as if feeling hurt just thinking about it. But just as quickly as he stopped, he then approached Wulfric, eyes moving to meet his. “In a world of fake, cruel, and malicious people, your sister is a diamond in the rough. Her kindness won my attention, but in such a short time her sweet soul and caring nature have begun to win me over as a man. So that is why…” He paused for a moment, as if the very thought put a sour taste on his lips. “If I really am the cause of her hurt, you may take my good arm.” Holding up his right hand, Farim may have added a hint of sarcasm, yet his face seemed to be as serious as ever.

“That being said, if the source is someone else, I hope you do not mind if I show them a proper Alidasht punishment.” The blunt nature of his statement, however morbid, also was a chance for Farim to express how important this was to him. “I will likely be around much more, so of course you can always keep a watchful eye over one such as myself. I have nothing to hide, so I have nothing to fear.” Farim crossed his arms and waited for the man’s response.

Wulfric’s smile became a tad warmer at the Shahzade’s expansive answer. “Well, then, I imagine you and my sister might get along. I expect so could we.” He chuckled at Farim’s offered arm, and said, “In the unfortunate case that things go terribly awry, it very well might be something more…invaluable.” He gave a short but pointed glance towards the man’s crotch area. “But I do not think it will come to anything like that,” he smirked, slightly friendlier than before. 

When Farim mentioned his desire to punish anyone who harmed Anastasia, Wulfric gave him a brief stare-down. “Whoever hurts her will be dealt with by me,” he asserted matter-of-factly. “However, depending on the circumstances, perhaps I will let you assist,” he added. “That aside, I am glad you are someone who seems to understand her, and values her for who she is. Though, convincing her might be the challenge,” Wulfric noted. He said nothing to the man’s offer of being watched; if he thought that was needed, he would do it. “That settled, was there anything else?”

The intent behind the message was clear. From Wulfric’s gaze Farim knew just what was at stake for upsetting the eldest Danrose. Still, he smirked and gave a sly retort. “How kind of you to consider it an entire limb.” Then there was the matter of the brother’s need to protect the woman first - a matter Farim yielded to because it was not his place to take the, dare he say, satisfaction of bringing justice to those who wrong his dear sister.

“I shall not overstep. Just like you, I am protective of some people. I am sure that Anastasia herself has been through quite a bit. So while it may very well be a challenge - it is a welcome one.” The heavy nature of his words began to lift at Wulfric’s reaction to the news. All things considered, the man had taken it well. “Ah. No, there is nothing further, unless you wish to ask me something yourself. Either way, should you need anything at a future time, my door is open.” Farim paused to let the prince speak, and would move to open the door for the gentleman on his way out of the guest house.

Wulfric’s expression matched Farim’s for a mere moment at the Alidasht prince’s playful comment. At the comment that Anastasia had been through much, however, his countenance sobered into a frown. “Yes, she has been.” The largest problem was that his sister barely seemed to recognize it, or perhaps she preferred to ignore it. But that wasn’t something he intended to discuss, so he shook his head. “Then we are finished here. I am sure we will be seeing more of each in the near future. I shall also be looking forward to your promised correspondence.” He alluded back to the topic they’d discussed previously, and after a respectful bow, took his leave.

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Drake

Attire:Mask, Jacket, and Pants/Shoes
Time: Evening of the 23rd
Location: Damien Estate -> Edwards Estate
Mentions: Ariella @tpartywithzombi

Time had continnued on, Drake patiently awaiting outside the gates as he wondered if the dear princess was okay. He had figured that her mention of needing to work on personal projects as well as her overall predisposition to such social events would likely have her busy this evening, so with a slightly disappointed look on his face he turned and began to head towards the front door. However, a young servant came running across the street and approached Lord Drake. "Sire! I- uhm...I believe I found Lady Edwards." Sebastian had started with a bit of a shout, but quickly toned down his voice as soon as he realized people were casting gazes their way. Drake stopped in his paces and turned to face the young man.

"Good on you Sebastian. Is she alright?" Drake was beginning to worry if his sister would be able to make it out of the house at all after the likely chastising and nagging their mother had put her through. Sebastian nodded and whispered once more "She was...uhm...in your room sir." Under his mask, his eyes widened with slight surprise at the statement, but Drake nodded all the same. If there was one place their mother wouldn't check, it would be his own room. Drake placed a hand on Sebastian's shoulder and leaned down to whisper in the young lad's ear. "If they allow you entry, do tell my parents that Ariella is safe, and wishses to attend the ball as an anonymous lady seeking ones prince charming for the night. Whatever you can say to get Mother on board." He smiled and pat the young man on the back, prompting him to run off as Drake hailed a public carriage. 

With a swift payment and an swifter trip, he made his way back to their house and quickly yet quietly made his way to his studies. Three firm knocks sounded on the door as he spoke aloud, making sure no one was nearby to hear him. "Ari...it's me. May I come in? He patiently awaited her response beyond the other side of the doors, and couldn't help shake the feeling of dread any brother would have when about to confront their crying sister.

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Farim

Location: Edge of Lover's Lake
Time: Evening of the 23rd
Mentions: Anastasia @princess, Mina @tae

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Farim looked at Mina as she approached and nodded - finding both her and Roman's tribal wear to be rather authentic and impressive. He felt almost underdressed for such an occasion, but realized he had no such garments of his own made at this moment. He would make a mental note to prepare such things incase he would ever encounter such an occasion again where he would need druidic style loins. He left the two main bodies of the event begin talking about what preparations and steps still needed doing - talking a few steps back and giving a slight bow before wandering into the speeding body of Anastasia, whose vice-like hug was a tight but welcome surprise.

The gasp of air hit him first, but then as he recognized the soft touch of Anastasia followed by her flowing hair that shined like the brighest gold in the desert. His arms wrapped around her, returning the hug and resting themselves on her back until she would pull away herself. "Princess! I am happy to be seeing you! This seemed like just the place you would like - and I could not pass up such a chance to see some more customs of far away lands. I see we even decided to match today, eh?" He smiled, noting the matching blue colors of their garments. His own navy blue tunic would seem a touch dark next to the more vibrant shades of Anastasia's dress, but the similar hues were something that made Farim chuckle slightly.

"Now please, tell me all about your day and the other evening. I hope your meeting with your friend went okay, and that you were not too bored today." He smiled brightly as he looked directly into her eyes with his own. He let out a slight click of his tongue as he remembered another important member of their little gang. "Oh right! There is another who would love to see you." Farim gave a short whistle and from the treeline came a rustling body of feathers that quickly perched herself onto Farim's shoulder. It was none other than Thara, who lightly coo'd as she noticed Anastasia's presence.

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Hidden 1 yr ago → 10 mos ago Post by PapaOso

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Time: Evening 
Location: Damien Estate Ballroom 
Mentions/Interactions:@SilverPaw Wulfric

“A seducer type, then…Your ilk think they are ever so unique and inventive, but is spewing tried and true lines as if you are following a script supposed to be appealing…

It was like music to his ears. All of it. The snark, the absolute pretentiousness that coated every word, and the air of conceit that could only accompany an aura of true royalty. This man was such a snide little prince, and the smile on Cas’s face only grew wider with each catty remark. It was all simply outstanding.

The truth is, Cassius lived for contempt just as he did for admiration. It was never really about what someone thought of him as much as it was about leaving an impression. Thus far, the impression that Prince Danrose had picked up was exactly the kind of judgment he’d expect from a self-important constituent of the royal family. As he smugly allowed Wulfric to say his piece, Cas continued to take in the intricacies of the man’s costume. Every minute detail was a masterwork on display. From the cold steel of the mask with its razor sharp beak to the cascade of raven black feathers, it truly was even more beautiful up close. Yet Cas could not help but feel let down all the same.

How disappointing.

As amused as he was by it all, he had hoped that the person beneath such an extraordinary ensemble would be someone more…thrilling. 

His smirk was unmistakably smug as he listened to each and every word that poured from Wulfric’s lips. The fact that both men were clad in such dramatic accoutre only elevated the moment for him, making him savor the exhibition of it all. Taking a sip of wine, he let out a playful sigh and leaned in to an intimate degree so that only the Prince could hear him. “And here I was thinking that you had the potential to be interesting. If only I had known you were a prince, I would never have been so hopeful. You are all the same, you know? Pompous, judgmental…but mostly just boring” His voice was but a husky whisper as the last statement slipped from his lips arrogantly. Cassius clinked his glass against Wulfric’s gently, feigning a toast. “But you’re not the only one feeling generous tonight, your royal highness…so allow me to do you the honor of giving you one chance to change my mind.”

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by samreaper

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samreaper Laughing Imp

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???

Time: Evening 
Location:  Damien Estate
Interactions: Fritz @JJ Doe
Mentions:
Attire: ??? 

The server inevitably found his way behind the pillar as indicated, albeit with a number of detours that made said trip take longer than intended. With some party-goer calling for him nearly every other step; each time ending either in a cold dismissive wave of the hand or outright ignored after giving what was needed of him. 

A low weary sigh left his lips as he waited at the pillar with left hand folded against his back facing the pillar. The right still holding up the tray; all in order to keep up appearance. 

Hardly given even a moment to himself to actually breathe, though when an unexpected visitor suddenly appeared at his side. Yet, even here out of view, he remained in character.

 “Good evening, Mr. Vincent.”

A small bow of the head his response to the greet.* Vincent? The fuck? I do- wait...the name sounds familiar.* Right eyebrow raising as glimpses of a memory flashed through his mind. The scenery in the memory was hard to make out; like a hazy screen not properly in focus that consisted of an all too familiar group. The names Olivia and Vincent being mentioned, but while the other faces were actually visible; a figure briefly fussing with his face, whom to his confusion was faceless. Though that was not the source of his confusion, however. No, said confusion was due to the fact said faceless figure was...a giant chicken?

* Ohshit! Is this that giant chicken?* Eyes turning over to glimpse the individual whose mannerism seemed to indicate they knew him.* Doesn't look like one..then again this is a costume party. Might have been testing out the costume or some shit, hell if I care what freaky shit nobles get up to.* 

"May I?"  A shrug of the shoulders thankfully well timed." By all means, my lord. I am merely here to serve." And not be heard apparently.* Ugh, no wonder the staff are always so cranky having to deal with such pompous, selfish vain assholes every day. God forbid any of them could stand to take 5 seconds to not be a complete ass and say thanks.* He thought bitterly. Not to mention having overheard the staff complaining about the incident Percy and he caused, all by accident mind you though it did not make him feel any less shitty. 

Whatever was in store, one thing was clear. He had no intention of doing anything to damage the household; god forbid he made things worse. Hell, if preferable, he would choose not to do this at all. Calbert, however, chose to make all this nonsense so personal.

* So being civil was just a flat-out lie, I guess.* Grumbling quietly to himself. 

* On the plus side. Leo in fuzzy lion slippers. Whoever gave me that bit of joy, I will find and shake your hand.* Thought the server with an internal snickering. 

 “How have you been doing?” More importantly, “What brings you here?”

* Oh, right, you're still here. Pretty nosy fellow too though I guess they did patch up my nose... I think.* 

Opening his mouth to respond, only for Calbert to choose this time to reveal himself to greet his *guests* thought with mental air quotes.* Oh give me a break. Look at that suave motherfucker and with a smile faker than Layla's chest size* Eyes following the count and tonight's host movement down the steps only to find himself struggling to keep from snickering.

Unable to help but picture Calby brooding over the party like some cliche supervillain.* Pfft...come on now. Calbert isn't that lame..and certainly wouldn't say anything cheesy like ' All the pieces have gathered on the board' or some lame shit like that....right?... right?" 

A question the server had to ask himself more than once, before recalling yet again his unknown visitor's presence.

 “Him?”

" Pardon and apologies, my lord. I did not wish to interrupt our lord count nor has any deemed me worth a name." Another small bow of the head." Which you may refer to me as.... Mr. V."

??? Mr. V

* Oh yeah, its all coming together now.* Thought the server with an almost smug little smirk." My thanks for the kind greeting my lord." And for the help with the name suggestion." As for What brought me here, why, I dare say it would be the count's ravishing smile." He finished, placing a gloved finger to his lips

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Hidden 1 yr ago → 1 yr ago Post by princess

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Time:Evening
Location: Calbert's Estate
Interaction:@Helo Leo @Samreaper ???

Charlotte had beamed at her friend, returning his bow with a curtsy. However, his strange tone of voice had immediately thrown her for a loop and it was absolutely written on her face. "...Welcome to the Fae Realm, my feline friend."

She decided she'd simply circle back to the high-pitched voice, as she was fairly certain that was not a usual symptom of a common cold. "Oh, Leo, dear Leo," she continued, her tone exaggeratedly dramatic, " It seems you've stumbled into the realm of the fae without proper precautions. A rookie mistake, truly. Fear not, for I, the Fairy Queen Charlotte, shall graciously grant you asylum, though you might have to endure a sneeze or two as a tribute to my royal presence." 

Her expression became more sincere as she parted her lips, planning to address the situation with more concern, but then a voice interrupted.

” Pardon the interruption... I have brought refreshments.” 

Charlotte took a second to steal a glance around the room. Servers glided throughout the ballroom, bearing trays adorned with an array of tantalizing hors d'oeuvres and drinks. Her gaze was inevitably drawn back to the glasses of wine being presented. 

A soft gasp escaped her lips as her eyes widened in surprise. The drink before her was a sight to behold. Nestled within the glass was a delicate lily. In the soft glow of the room, the drink sparkled like captured stardust, casting a mesmerizing glimmer across the surface. Charlotte couldn't help but be entranced as the server went on. She took it within her grasp, her fingertips tingling at the touch of the cool crystal.  "Oooooh my. This is wonderful..."

Her eyes did find their way back to the server once he spoke again and Charlotte tilted her head, her curiosity piqued, much like a curious puppy as he spoke, “ For it takes a fierce man to don such exquisite footwear, wouldn’t agree, my lady.” 

 That voice... Something about that hair...  Her attention was fixated on the intriguing curve of his mustache, a detail that seemed to demand her gaze. It was as if the very essence of his being was encapsulated in that twist of hair. Yet, her focus was finally shattered by the sudden wink and head motion.

He wants me to go to the pillar... Realization washed over her like a wave, and she found herself nodding, her lips forming a silent agreement as she mouthed she'd be in there a moment. Simultaneously, her mind raced with thoughts that mingled with disbelief.

... I cannot believe he's doing this. No, actually, I can...

“Offly chatty servant...Dreadful excuse for a mustache too. Here I thought it was only the palace that scrapped up servants from the bottom of the barrel.”

 "He was a tad strange." Charlotte agreed simply as Leo pointed out Count Fritz.  "Oh good. The gang's all here then." She noted to herself she'd have to speak with him as well before the evening ended. 

Her gaze briefly moved to Calbert as he welcomed the room, acknowledging his presence before her eyes locked onto his once more as he spoke of the tea party. "Before we address that, I have to express that I'm awfully concerned about-"

Their conversation was almost immediately derailed by an uncontrollable fit of laughter, echoing through the room. Her brow furrowed in worry, unease etching her features as his laughter grew with intensity. She first noticed that the eyes of those nearby had fallen on them. Subsequently, she also noticed Count Calbert Damien approaching them, his steps heavy and his speed growing by the second. Though much of his facial expression was obscured, it was not hard to put together that he clearly thought Leo was laughing at him and he was NOT happy at all.

She entwined her arm with Leo's and forced herself to laugh along. As this was occurring, Charlotte began trying to turn him away from Calbert with the strength of her grip. She loudly proclaimed with deliberate emphasis,  "Oh I still cannot believe you ate that WEEK OLD CHEESE to impress  those girls! Hahaha!"

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by ReusableSword

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ReusableSword The (not so) Mighty.

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Time: evening
Location: the ceremony at lovers lake
Interactions: @Lava Alckon Farim  @Infinite Cosmos Munir @princess Ana @Tae Mina
Mentions in order:
outfit: plaid kilt in his family colors, wearing a snow bear skull headdress/ mask, bones of the bear down his arms back and rib cage, body paint in the form of runes, no shirt or shoes.



The time was growing near to start the festivities, the fuel for the fires was added, food and drink were shared, prayers and offerings left by the fire to be consumed by the fire. Many had come, many more than he thought, many more commoners had come as well, some dressed in what looked to be something one would wear to Calbert’s shindig whereas others dressed like himself. No shirt or shoes. Laughter from his people no doubt sharing stories of past battles and adventures, of comrades come and gone, of loves lost and gained. Thus, was their culture, life was short so one must live it to their fullest and not skimp on the little things like laughter and stories.

One such offering of prayer caught romans ear as he walked through the area they were to have their ritual. Farim was who he noticed singing a hymn in his native tongue, a language he always found to be beautiful, it was one he did speak but not often. Roman turned his masked face towards the man as he approached but did not speak right away. His expression was near impossible to see as his mask obscured his face and eyes from those looking upon him. This effect was on purpose this way he would not lock eyes with others as he is meant to be a conduit for the gods and not to have the songs be directed towards individuals but to all of them.

"I hope I did not disrespect the way you do things here. I heard you mention offering words and....well my heart felt it necessary to pay a good friend some needed words." His hand instinctively clutched onto the necklace he wore around his neck, and the same vulnerable sounding tones in Farim's voice seemed to imply something tragic, but it soon faded as Farim did his best to perk up around present company. "You have a lovely setup here, I can appreciate all the work you had put in to such a gathering, and just wanted to pay a simple greeting without taking too much of your time."

Roman reached out to Farim before he was able to walk off for just a moment resting his hand on his shoulder and speaking in the Alidasht language, “they are with the gods now, be happy that they have passed and no longer need to suffer here with us. You will see them again someday.” A quiet reply but his words held emotion that carried with it the feeling of understanding what it feels like to lose someone close, for him it was more than a few people.

He gave Farim a nod and watched him turn to meet someone behind roman. Turning he spotted Munir approaching with his bodyguard, however when roman began to move towards them to discuss something he wanted to before the start of the ceremony he was cut off by the ethereal visage of Mina. He always enjoyed seeing her like this, it felt right for both to step away from their duties in court and just be free. This freedom he could clearly see in the way she walked and spoke.

“The shaman found this spot all I did was approve it; she has been working hard these last few days to prepare it. Im glad you and your uncle were able to come, and you were able to find the ritual wear we had brought with us as well.” He paused for a moment finding his next words carefully, “it looks like the gods themselves blessed you to look just as beautiful as the full moon.” He wasn’t flirting with her, at least he wasn’t trying to, it was merely a compliment, the action still made his face warm beneath his mask.

Another seemed to enter the fray, Anastasia wore some simple attire fitting of the occasion with a crown of flowers, she looked absolutely adorable. He bent down to give her an appropriate hug and whispered to her, “thank you for coming, I believe you would benefit from drinking some of our special brew tonight.” He let go and smiled at her, even if she couldn’t really see it. he watched her lock on to Farim and move over to him with little hesitation. It was cute seeing her like that, the carefree anna that he grew up knowing just like when they were kids.

He turned again to mina and sighed, he could see the shaman looking at him from the edge of the ceremony ring, there was still one more preparation he needed to do before the ceremony could start and he still needed to say something to Munir before they began. “Mina, could you check with the others and make sure they are ready? I still need to set the barrier with the shaman before we begin. I shall return here once I have finished and then we can begin.” He held her hand for a moment trying not to let his nerves get the best of him, “if you will excuse me.” He wasn’t trying to be dismissive of her presence, but he really did have to set the barrier before they began. 

He didn’t walk directly to the Shaman, instead he made his way purposefully to Munir and his handler. They were both dressed in what was the simplest thing he had ever seen Munir wearing, and he was proud of him for it. Roman was aware of how much effort and how uncomfortable the man could possibly be in such attire, still to see him go against what was likely instinct to the man and his fashion sense gave roman pride in knowing that Munir would forgo his colorful clothes for this event. The respect he already had for Munir, and the others had grown just from this fact. 

“Munir I must speak with you for a moment.” He began before shifting to Munir’s home tongue, “I don’t have much time to explain so I apologize if this sounds rushed. Being aware of your interest in Mina you should know some things about the ritual. The position I asked her to take in the ceremony is of my echo, this position is normally for the speaker’s wife or betrothed because I have neither I asked Mina to be my echo as my friend.” He paused for a moment then continued, “because of that and our traditions our songs and dance can be… intimate at times. I respect you brother; I do not want to come in between you two, but I also cannot change how we participate. I simply wish for you to be aware of this and just as well, even though our bodies may be our own, the spirits inside may be different.” He let that sink in for a moment and waited for his reply for just a moment longer.

With a nod to the men, he left towards the shaman. 

Drawing near to the shaman he began to feel it, the lightness in his head, the time was drawing near. The spirits grew restless, the gods were coming, the energy ebbed and flowed around each one of them as the veil between worlds grew thinner. He felt it in his heart, in his mind, in his soul, willing or not all rituals like this were magic in some way. For this he had to stay here just a little longer to seal the circle of patrons, gifts, song, and dance. A protective barrier to make sure the spirits don’t run rampant outside of the circle and to ward off the spirits that may have ill intent from encroaching on their ceremony.

This celebration was inherently magic connected to many other celebrations happening around the realm. Connected and alone, energy not to be bound by time or space, magic that ebbs and flows from past rituals and current ones. This form can make the magic power stronger but can quickly overpower those ill-suited for it. This he knows, this ritual to bring about peace to the spirits of this land and good fortune for the living. His duty, a privilege, a responsibility.

The shaman is a short but fiery petite woman wearing many layers and colors of cloths wrapped in leafy vines and wearing the skull of a female elk, several of her assistants surrounded her obscuring their actions from the party goers. She held out a wooden bowl towards him, stained a dull red, many ingredients stirred softly in a red liquid. It smelt of pine and iron, Roman knelt in front of her. No words were shared, they had both been through this before, she dipped her right hand in the bowl then pressed the red hand onto the top of the skull he wore then again onto his chest over his heart, he stood and proceeded to do the same with her.

Speaking together in quiet unison, 

 “With this I am bound to you and you to me.
Roosters crowing - galders growing.
Norn’s spinning - fates binding. 
Gods crying - wolves howling. 
Ravens shouting - giants sleeping. 
Shadows threatening - barley swaying. 
Fields growing - sun shining. 
Wolves hunting - sun fleeing.
Stone Protects – Spirits dance.
Blood etched – Circle marked.
Ancestors bound – Fire envelopes.
Offerings given – Gods waiting.”

The duo walked slowly together around the stone circle three times, chanting those words quietly as they walked. everything they did was in near perfect unison to share the burden of setting the circle. With each step the duo dripped some of the red liquid from the bowl onto the stones below them. When they were done both had to take a moment to breathe, the bowl was empty now.  both were satisfied that the circle was set, and the first song could soon begin.

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by JJ Doe

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Fritz "Ryn" Hendrix
Time: Evening
Location: Damien Estate’s Ballroom
Interaction(s): Mr. V @samreaper

A flicker of disdain crossed Mr. Vincent’s countenance upon seeing “one of them.” A familiar expression that mirrored the contempt Lord Smithwood had directed at him, albeit from the other side of the divide. Too common to be noble, too noble to be common—Ryn lived in both worlds, yet belonged to neither. 

An outcast. 

Ryn hid the sharp sting of that word behind a smile. “Mr. V,” he nodded to acknowledge the preferred moniker, “I don’t believe I properly introduced myself.” Extending his hand, he offered a firm handshake, should Mr. V choose to reciprocate. “My name is Fritz.” Simple, unadorned; just Fritz.

“As for What brought me here, why, I dare say it would be the count's ravishing smile.”

Ryn focused on Count Damien, working the room with practiced charm. “Such a ravishing smile it must be, if you’re willing to venture this close to the sun.”

His attention shifted to the servants. There were many of them, hidden and out in the open. But, as it was customary in these gatherings, most guests paid them no heed. The best place to hide a tree is in a forest, as they say. 

“Clever.” Hiding in one of the last places the count would think to look, while risky, was brilliant. However, was that the only reason Mr. V was here? After all, it was far from a permanent solution for his and his friend’s predicament. “Though, I fear you might burn into a crisp if you stay too long in his radiance... Have you given thought to how the flames might be doused?”

Across the ballroom, Count Damien swept towards Lord Smithwood and Lady Vikena with preternatural speed, his coattail streaming behind him, black as the night itself. It seemed Mr. V wasn’t the only one who needed to be cautious of His Excellency’s fire. Ryn kept his dark eyes trained on the trio, poised to intervene. Only once did his stare break, darting to Mr. V in silent query: would he be willing to risk exposing himself to help the detectives?

While impressed that Mr. V decided to hide right under Count Calbert’s nose, Ryn wonders if it’ll solve Kazumin and Persephone’s current situation. He asks Mr. V if he has ideas for a more permanent solution.

He notices Count Calbert approaching Leo and Charlotte, and is prepared to step in.

@Helo@Princess@samreaper

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Infinite Cosmos

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Location: Munir's room, then the edge of Lover's Lake
Interactions: @Lava Alckon Farim @princess Anastasia @Tae Mina @ReusableSword Roman & various NPC

Munir pattered along, sifting his way through the crowd that has gathered for the event, offering those that would look upon him a small bow. In turn, the other participants that have gotten Hakim's message would do the same, returning the Shahzade's bow with their own. Hakim, the ever-faithful retainer, was always nearby but never intrusive.

Peering through the crowd, Munir was delighted to find that some familiar faces have decided to turn up to this event. First person he spotted was his cousin Farim. Of course he'd be here. As far as Munir was concerned, Farim would always choose to attend an event in which he does not have to wear as mask, as he already wear one on the daily. In any case, he saw that his cousin decided to offer a small hymn in their mother tongue. A touching gesture, one that Munir understood fully. Still. It was one he noted in his mind to use later as fuel to tease his cousin with later.

Next person he noticed was Mina. His eyes were naturally drawn to her, the atmosphere of the event aside. He watched her walk into the event, with the stag horns adoring her head. Instinctively, his mind made him think about what Mina would look like with a Alidashtian crown on her, for her to be dressed in their traditional attire and overseeing a ceremony or celebration. What a sight that would be. Along with Mina, Munir noticed Count Sebastian. He offered the man a small bow, as a recognition of his presence. He was very much looking forward to their conversation later. He did not feel a shred of fear, or nerve. It was almost matter of fact to him. Yes, the conversation will be the most important one he has had yet, but it was one that needs to be had.

Anastasia was next. Her typical jovial nature shone through, even on a night like this. When she gave Munir a wave, Munir offered a small bow and raised his hand slightly, returning her greeting. Seeing her interaction with Farim, Munir chuckled to himself. He might not be the only one to find their jewel tonight, it seems.

Roman then approached him. Seeing the imposing man, wearing a full snow bear pelt, made Hakim naturally close the distance between himself and Munir. With a small hand gesture done at his side, Munir halted Hakim and reassured him that things were alright. He offered Roman a small bow and leaned in closer as Roman began to speak to him in Alidashtian. How did this man know his native tongue? That was an intriguing question, but for later. Munir listened to what Roman had to say, chewing and digesting the words slowly. As Roman finished, Munir nodded and responded in Alidashtian,  "Sir Ravenwood. Thank you for your concerns. I understand the implications of this ceremony. Whatever happens next, only the Gods will know. When spirits speak and walk this earth, we're all vessels for their expressions. I hold no ill will towards you. You're right. I have my eyes, and heart, set on Lady Blackwood. But, if I could not handle what is to come in this ceremony, I would not be here. The respect is mutual, brother."  At the end of his words, Munir placed his right hand on his chest and gave Roman a small bow. A gesture of respect and gratitude.

As Roman walked off and approached the priestess, Munir crossed his arms and drew in a deep breath. The smell of the woods, the moisture and musk of it all, flooded his nostrils. He closed his eyes softly, listening to the enchanting words Roman and the priestess echoed. His breathing was steady, and his demeanor relaxed. Hakim moved closer to Munir, observing the ceremony as well as he could.

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