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Hidden 8 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by Tpartywithzombi
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Tpartywithzombi “Strong women are absolutely unpredictable.”

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Time: The night before
Location: Secret Garden
Mention: Callum @helo
Interactions:
Appearance: Wild curly hair, simple white dress, no shoes

The night before

In the depths of her contemplation after the nod from Callum, Ariella's mind became a canvas for her own schemes. She delicately pulled the hood over her fiery red locks, a fond smile gracing her lips as she recalled Callum's compliment. It was an unexpected praise that made her see her hair in a new light, fostering a newfound appreciation for its vibrant hue.

The world around her seemed to shimmer with an inexplicable brilliance as if the effects of the tea had transformed her surroundings into a living painting. With bare feet carrying her along, Ariella embarked on her journey back to the sanctuary of her secret garden, a smile adorning her face as she eyed all the beautiful colors of the night.

As the night unfolded, she sauntered through the quiet streets, enveloped by the gentle glow of the stars above. Amidst the tranquility, a sign bearing the proclamation "KING EDIN CELEBRATION" caught her eye, prompting her curiosity.

Observing formally attired figures exiting the nearby church, likely attendees to the crown, Ariella seized the opportunity for an investigation.

With silent steps in the deserted streets, she stealthily approached the church, crouching low to avoid detection. Slipping inside, the absence of any lingering presence allowed her to lower her hood and take in the ghastly decorations adorning the sacred space. A sense of revulsion crept over her as she beheld the spectacle, akin to her mother's extravagant displays but magnified tenfold in the vanity of King Edin's worship.

Navigating through the dimly lit interior, Ariella stumbled upon a sizable object concealed beneath a sheet. With a mixture of apprehension and intrigue, she unveiled the mystery, only to be greeted by the unsettling gaze of a ghastly portrait depicting the king. Suppressing a startled laugh after nearly having a heart attack, she surveyed her surroundings and discovered remnants of black paint left behind by diligent workers.

A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she contemplated her impish act. In her inebriated state, she seized the paintbrush with playful determination, adding her touches to the royal visage. Upon completing her clandestine masterpiece, she stepped back to admire her handiwork before carefully concealing it once more beneath the sheet.

Exiting the church with her head held high and a mischievous grin adorning her features, Ariella embarked on her journey back to the sanctuary of her secret garden, her heart brimming with satisfaction.

After an hour of meandering through the twisting paths of the woods, Ariella finally found her way back to the heart of her haven. With a soft exhale of relief, she drank in the serene beauty surrounding her. The tranquil sounds of owls hooting in the treetops above added an ethereal layer to the atmosphere, imbuing the air with a palpable sense of magic.

Magic…

Drawing forth a vial from beneath her cloak, Ariella gazed intently at the slender strands of hair ensconced within the glass tube.

Earlier that day, during her brief encounter with Callum, habits took over and she plucked a few strands from his jacket. Collecting oddities had become somewhat of a habit for her, but this particular acquisition held a special significance.

Feeling emboldened and fearless from the concoction of her evening, Ariella hastened to the ruins where she kept her prized collection of books. Among them lay one tome that even Callum was unaware she possessed. Pausing reverently before the book, she ran her fingers over its weathered cover, each touch a testament to the reverence she held for its secrets, yet her fear had kept her from delving into its pages.

Adorned with silver engravings that gleamed against the black leather binding, the book exuded an aura of mystique. Carefully opening its pages, she sought out a specific spell — the luck spell.

Following her conversation with Callum, Ariella was determined to aid her friend, knowing he was on the brink of potential danger. Yet, she sensed his reluctance to involve her further. Eager to wield magic for the first time in service of her friend, she set to work.

Scouring her wooded sanctuary, she gathered materials — string, rope, and a heap of dried leaves. Arranging them beside the open book, Ariella flopped down clumsily onto the ground. Grabbing parts of the supplies she meticulously crafted a small doll, weaving strands of Callum's hair into its form. With each twist and knot, she imbued the doll with the essence of her friend.

After what felt like an hour and once satisfied, Ariella read and re-read the passage in the tome, focusing on the spell's benevolent effects. With a serene smile, she closed her eyes, feeling a profound connection to the earth beneath her feet, amplified by the lingering effects of the tea she had imbibed earlier.

This spell channels the caster's energy into an object belonging to another person (such as a strand of their hair) to weave a shield of fortuity around them. Once activated, this spell enhances the subject's luck, subtly influencing circumstances and chances in their favor until a critical moment of need has passed. It's like an invisible hand gently nudging situations to benefit the shielded individual, manifesting as serendipitous occurrences or fortunate coincidences.

As she chanted the incantation, she felt a surge of energy coursing through her veins, her very essence flowing into the doll.

"Fortunam Adfluo," she intoned, the words tinged with power. She felt a rush or a surge of energy escape her body, leaving through her fingertips into the doll she held tightly in her fingers.

A trickle of blood seeped from her nose, unsure of if it worked she assumed the blood was at least a possible sign.

Placing the doll beside the open tome, Ariella rose unsteadily to her feet, her movements sluggish and weak. Stumbling toward the nearby stream, she endeavored to cleanse herself of the blood, mindful to preserve her pristine gown. Yet, as she knelt by the water's edge, dizziness overtook her, the world spinning in a dizzying blur.

With a sudden rush of exhaustion, Ariella collapsed onto the soft earth, unconsciousness enveloping her like a shroud. She lay by the babbling river, a slumbering figure amidst the tranquil embrace of the woods around her.



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Hidden 8 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by CitrusArms
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CitrusArms Space Spatula

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Stratya Durmand

Time:
24th, Morning
Location: The Barracks and Castle Grounds
Interactions:
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Well, the previous night had been an interesting peek into higher society. There had been a surprising number of participants for a drinking game. If she thought about it, the nobles probably put a lot of effort into keeping such tendencies behind closed doors. According to the report on Stratya's desk, the doors at the masquerade were not, perhaps, as closed as they were supposed to be. Ah, but she knew that already. If she weren't knighted, there was no way she'd have gotten in. Though she had a way of endearing herself with the guards and lower class with her friendly personality, she knew better than to think she could get in to such an event with such charm alone.

However he got in, she doubted the thief from that night had such a rapport with the guards. Perhaps someone had gotten them in. The young lady he was with? Stratya hadn’t gotten much of a look at her at all. Ah well. She'd had a bit of fun, in the end, and slipped off to a tavern after all the nobles retired. There, she had a single beer more, a nice meal, and then a pint of water before she left the tavern and went to the barracks and to bed.

Mm. She may have taught the tavern a new drinking game over her beer and following pint of water, if she thought about it.

All that drinking meant she was a bit late to rise. The drinking, which.. she.. remembered. Good. Her head had felt better, but she had more water and a good breakfast to help her noggin.
She found a sealed envelope placed on her desk, along with other notices. She’d learned reading and writing quite quickly, since coming from her village, though she did keep a dictionary in her desk, as well. Words like “confidential” didn’t tend to occur much in a small place like her home village. She’d needed the reference book less and less, as things go, and these days she scarcely had to use it at all. A few folks back in her village could read a little bit, but knighthood had driven her to greater proficiency. It meant she could read letters like all these confidential intelligence reports she’d received this morning. There were quite a lot of them, and one was in regards to the party she attended last night. While she already knew about that, much of the rest of the information she recieved was new to her. An immediate concern was the stable boy, Darryn. Depending on the nature of his disappearance, it might be related to some of these other alerts.
She’d wasted enough of the day sleeping, it was time to get about her business.

Stratya took to the streets in a mixture of medium and light armor, with just a few pieces of heraldry to go with it. They had guests who would not recognize the knights of the kingdom the way a local would, so it was best to be recognizable.
Speaking of being recognized, she wasn’t a full building length from the barracks before she started hearing about the stench coming from the stables. From the descriptions and the prevalence of complaints, it wasn’t your normal stench. She had a hard time thinking it was merely someone slacking on their cleaning duties. As she made the short trip to the royal stables, she began to pick up on the odor. She started to pick up wafts of it from far away, and got the feeling in her gut that told her it was the stench in question. It was bad, some kind of rotting meat, she had to guess.
She followed her nose and the complaints past the moat and the inner defensive walls, giving a short nod to the guards she passed on the way. The stables, toward the rear of the castle. “Ooh, it's rancid.” The knight grimaced as she approached the Royal stables, the odor stronger than ever. “Urg, it's ‘ere, alrigh’..”
Her nose told her it was the stable itself, but she was having a hard time following the scent due to how awful it was, though she noticed the odor was not much worse inside the stables, maybe even better (though it was hard to tell). It was probably outside, then. She produced a handkerchief from within her armor and held it over her nose, resigning to using her wits and eyes from here. It didn't take her long, the first thing she did was wander around behind the building and,
“Aww, Gods be good..” she found the stable boy. Rather, she found something very important of his. She could barely recognize him, the way his jaw had been mangled. Shattered and beaten.. the sword she could only assume was used to sever the poor stable boy’s head from his shoulders was there, but she had to wonder if that was what had killed him. He might have been beaten to death. It was hard to recognize him, with the savaging apparent on his face and jaw. She sighed heavily (groaned, really), drew a deep breath, and “guard!” She needed to keep anyone from coming back here and messing with this scene. And probably let someone else know about this. They'll need a new stable boy..
While she awaited the response, she would begin examining the scene. Had blood been spilled on the ground here? If it were her, she'd try to wash it away. Did it look like much water had been poured here? She needed to determine if Darryn had been killed here or not. Had it been last night, during the two large events? It would have been an excellent time, with most noteworthy persons out of the castle. What bothered her most, though, was.. why?
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Hidden 8 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by princess
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Time:Evening
Location: Calbert's Estate
Attire: Hair Style, Dress
Interaction:@FunnyGuy Lorenzo

Mention: @Potter Olivia @ReusableSword Roman


The morning light crept into Charlotte’s bedroom, bathing her in a warm glow as she sat quietly on the window sill. Still dressed in a flowing white nightgown, she somberly stared out at the world outside her room, the sound of the morning birds and leaves rustling in the breeze a gentle background to her steady thoughts. Her gaze was fixed on a large, old willow tree that was just in reach. Its branches swayed slightly, each leaf a bright green under the touch of the sunlight.

Yet, the beauty of the morning did little to lift the heaviness in her heart. The events of the previous night played back in her mind—a whirlwind of masked faces, threats, and a dance that felt like both an escape and another trouble that would surely brew. She felt drained, even after the long rest, as if each step she had taken to the window had drawn a little more strength from her soul.

As she leaned her head on the wooden frame of the window, a small twitch in her vision on a lower branch of the tree caught her attention. Her gaze soon settled on a little bird, its feathers ruffled and unkempt. It was perched precariously close to the edge. With each labored breath, its tiny chest rose and fell in rapid, struggling gasps. Charlotte's heart clenched at the sight as she furrowed her brows.

She reached out a hand slowly, careful not to startle the suffering bird. The bird didn’t resist as she scooped it into her palms as it was too weak to fly away. Bringing it close to her chest, she could feel the fragile pulse of its tiny heart, a faint flutter against her skin.

Sitting back against the cool frame with the bird cradled softly between her hands, she delicately stroked its blue feathers with her fingertip, barely touching the soft plumage. "It's alright, darling. You're not alone anymore." Over time, the bird seemed to relax slightly, its breaths less fraught. Charlotte watched it with a sadness that welled up from a place deep within her that she couldn't quite source.

There was a reflective pause then, suddenly, she began to sing in a voice that was low and tender:


Close your eyes, my little angel,
On a branch on this tree, under the leaves of the willow,
I found you here today,
And now you're safe,
As the morning embraces us,
I'm here with you.

Rest your wings now dear, the night is over now,
And you're here with me, as the new day dawns.
Close your eyes now, my dear little one,
We're together, and together we'll always be.
In my embrace, please find a sweet dream,
You'll never have another thing to fear.
So close your eyes and here we'll stay.
In this morning dream, it'll just be you and me.

So close your eyes now dear, my little angel,
I found you here today,
Under the leaves of the willow,
As the morning embraces us,
I'm right here with you.
And right here in my heart, you'll always be.


Her lullaby filled the air, at times louder than Charlotte had even noticed. Singing, and certainly music in general, had always been an outlet for her since childhood, but it had been one she had long set aside over the past year. As she sang, the first rays of the sun illuminated her face, casting her in a light that reflected the tears welling in her eyes. The bird's eyes slowly closed, and as the final note of her song drifted into the morning air, it seemed to find peace. Charlotte held it a moment longer, her tearing eyes locked on the bird. Then, gently, she placed it back onto the branch, her heart heavy but a smile forming on her lips.

"I hope you found a lovely dream." She whispered.

It hadn't been long after that when Delilah knocked on her door, and the two of them had climbed into her bed to have their morning tea ritual. Delilah would always bring the two of them team then they'd return to the warmth of the bed and chat over the newspaper. She was weary to find out that once again she and Lorenzo made the headlines and had groaned reading the gossip. Her sigh escaped her lips as she read on, her dismay deepening when she learned that Roman, one of the sweetest people from the Varian Kingdom, made the headlines as well for some reason. She made a mental note to herself to check on him.

Delilah, meanwhile, shifted the conversation toward the day's events. She mentioned that Lorenzo had requested Charlotte's company at the church event, while Olivia had expressed a desire to attend the Courting Mixer. Relieved to hear of Olivia's improved spirits, Charlotte requested that Delilah accompany Olivia and watch over her. The maid was luckily always pleased to go anywhere with mimosas and had even told her all about how she was going to drag Gilbert along. Charlotte had listened with a knowing smile.

As the sun had risen higher in the sky, Delilah asked at the conversation's finality, "... Will you be alright at the church? You've seem down this morning."

"Of course, Delilah." Charlotte told her with a warm smile. " I found out perhaps things may be more difficult than I thought they were going to be... " She perked up and raised her fist, "But I will not yield! ... Just as Gunther of Tides said. "

Delilah took her hands tenderly, "Neither of us will... The morning sun always returns after the long night."

An hour later, Charlotte entered the estate's foyer, attired in a simple blue dress edged with lace at the neckline and her hair tied back with her customary ribbon. She greeted Lorenzo warmly, embracing him without hesitation before they both stepped into the carriage. Upon arriving at the church, they were greeted by the sight of crowded pews, the noise briefly overwhelming. With a slight frown, Charlotte leaned toward her stepfather and whispered, "All in favor of sitting in the back...?"


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Hidden 8 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by PapaOso
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Time: The Morning of Sola 24th
Location: Damien Estate, Cas’s bedroom
Mentions/Interactions:@JJ Doe Fritz @princess Liliane

***TRIGGER WARNING***
This post includes graphic content including the depiction of torture, be advised.


Cassius reclined against a fallen log, his gaze fixed on the stars above while Kamal sat opposite him, nursing a mug of watered-down ale that he held in shackled hands. Despite their current roles as captor and captive, there was an unspoken understanding between them, a mutual respect that had blossomed amidst the quiet of the open road.

"So, Kamal…" Cassius broke the quiet, his voice laced with the smooth cadence of a practiced charmer. "You mentioned a daughter…tell me about her."

"She's the light of my life…" Kamal glanced up, surprise flickering in his eyes before a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Her name is Aisha, and there’s nothing more precious in this world to me."

"Do you think she misses you?" Cassius nodded, a genuine warmth infusing his features.

"I do..." Kamal stated somberly. "And I miss her, every moment of every day. I promised her I would return…Seems you’ve made a liar out of me."

Cassius’s eyes broke away from Kamal’s as he let the man’s words process in his mind for a moment before responding. "No..." He said with a calm smile. "If anything, I’ve helped you be an honest man, Kamal. One who faces the consequences of his actions. One that perhaps she can be proud of."

"Bold of you to think she could be proud of a criminal like me." Kamal responded bluntly, raising his shackled hands to add weight to his words. "I will never be the world’s best father…I just wish for the opportunity to try, to leave all of this behind."

Standing, Cassius walked over and rested a hand on the man’s shoulder. "Then I suggest once all of this unpleasantness is over…you go home and begin again. Do not let your yesterdays define your tomorrow. There may be hope for you yet, but you look exhausted…get what rest you can, we’re heading out early."

With an acknowledging nod from Kamal, the night soon fell silent. After some time, under the dim and eerie majesty of flickering starlight, the two eventually drifted off to sleep.

As morning came they continued their journey, and Cassius found himself drawn into Kamal's world, his tales of fatherhood and love painting a picture of humanity amidst the harsh reality of their circumstances. It was in those moments, that he glimpsed even more of the man behind the bounty. Yet, as they drew closer and closer to their destination, a palpable tension hung in the air like a storm moving in over the horizon. Kamal's eyes darted nervously, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as the weight of their impending encounter bore down upon him.

"Cassius, please…" Kamal implored, his voice trembling with a growing panic. "You have to let me go. I beg of you."

Cassius met the man’s eyes with a steady gaze, his expression softened by understanding. However, the truth planted a pit of guilt inside of him. "I can't, Kamal…you know that. Iron Wolves always finish the contract." His words were stern but gentle. "But I promise you, as long as you cooperate with Lord Jamari, you'll see your daughter again. If he wanted you dead, he would have asked me to bring you in much less intact than you currently are."

Though Kamal's fear lingered like a shadow, there was a small ember of hope in his eyes, a glimmer of trust in Cassius’s promise. "Thank you..." He whispered, gratitude suffusing his voice. There was a long sigh from Kamal before he spoke again. "My father used to tell me that every man must one day face the music that they compose. Perhaps you’re right, Cassius. Perhaps now I will have the chance to be half the father to my little girl that he was to me."

As they finally reached the outskirts of Lord Jamari's camp, Cassius was greeted by the imposing figure of his mentor Silas, one of the captains of the Iron Wolves. The man’s keen gaze met him with both pride and concern.

"Good work, Vael." Silas remarked, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "The Lord will be pleased with your efforts."

Cassius offered a tight-lipped smile in response, though his eyes betrayed his curiosity at the veteran’s obvious worry. As Kamal was escorted away by the guards, Cassius bid the man good luck. He and Silas then lingered in the fading light. First they caught up on the happenings since Cassius had been away, and then Cassius gave a recounting of how he captured his quarry as well as their eventful journey back to the Yola outskirts. Eventually, Silas voiced the concerns that were so clearly haunting him.

"Something's not right…" The captain murmured, his voice a low rumble in the scarcely lit camp. He cast a wary glance around, ensuring that they were alone before pressing on with his thoughts. "Lord Jamari's demeanor has shifted, Cassius. The man has always been a warlord, but lately…it's as if there's a darkness consuming him. A madness."

Cassius’s brow furrowed, his mind racing with the implications of Silas's words, but before Cassius could respond, a guard approached with urgent haste…his breaths ragged with the urgency of his message. "The Lord requests your presence." He announced, his words strained with tension. "He awaits you in the royal tent."

Silas exchanged a meaningful glance with Cassius, a silent understanding passing between them. The guard escorted the men to their destination, and as they stepped into the much more significantly lit interior of the Lord’s massive tent, the sight that greeted them sent a shockwave of horror coursing through Cassius's veins.

Kamal hung suspended by his ankles over an open bonfire, his bloodied form contorted in agony as he gasped for breath…his eyes pleading for mercy as they found Cassius. Lord Jamari's voice echoed through the chamber as he welcomed his guests with a sadistic smile.

"Ah, it brings me such joy to see that the young Wolf has returned...and with such a phenomenal gift," He greeted them, his voice dripping with jubilation as he motioned towards Kamal. He stepped forward and waved the two mercenaries over to the table that had been set up with a gratuitous feast. "Join us, won't you? We're just getting started."

Cassius’s heart hammered in his chest as the air within Lord Jamari's tent hung heavy with the scent of roasted meat and the sickly-sweet tang of burning flesh. Cassius forced himself to swallow back the bile rising in his throat as he watched the grotesque spectacle unfolding before him.

Lord Jamari sat at the head of the table; his face twisted into a mask of sadistic glee as he delighted in the agony of his captive. The man's screams and pleas for mercy echoed through the chamber, sending shivers down Cassius's spine. He tried to maintain a facade of composure, though every fiber of his being screamed for him to intervene…to do something, anything to put an end to this barbaric display.

However, Silas's silent urging kept him at bay, the reminder of his mentor's hand on his arm acting like an anchor to keep him rooted in place.

As the feast progressed, Lord Jamari's cruelty only grew in severity. He reveled in the torment of his prisoner…his laughter a chilling exhibition of the man’s growing madness that Silas had mentioned. Cassius felt a profound sense of helplessness and guilt wash over him, gnawing at his conscience as he watched Kamal's flesh blacken, blister, and melt away bit by bit in the searing heat of the flames. Eventually, the man’s screams fell silent, replaced by the sickening sizzle of burning skin as his body was completely consumed by the inferno.

As Kamal's charred remains crumbled to ash, Cassius felt a wave of numbness wash over him, a hollow emptiness that threatened to engulf him entirely as all he could think about was the way Kamal had spoken about his daughter, Aisha. He looked to Silas, seeking comfort in the familiar presence of his mentor…only to find a stoic expression staring back at him, a quiet display of the toll that years of mercenary life had taken on his very soul.

In that moment Cassius understood, for the first time, the true cost of their profession…the very price of survival paid in blood, anguish, and gold. As he gazed upon the smoldering ruins of Kamal's life one final time, he knew that he could never truly reclaim the piece of himself that burned away that night along with a man whose daughter would never see her father again.

Slowly, as his eyes lingered on what was left of Kamal…a pulsating glow of green light began to blink from the center of the bonfire. Suddenly, Cassius was not in Lord Jamari’s tent at all, but rather on the balcony of the Damien Estate where he and Fritz had spoken.

The bonfire shifted into the cityscape of Sorian yet that blinking green light…the beacon…remained. He turned to say his goodbyes to Fritz, but the figure next to him was not the dashing enigmatic man he had been speaking to, but rather the smoldering and melting form of Kamal. Lunging backwards, Cassius tripped on the furniture behind him and turned to brace against the balcony only to find the Sorian cityscape in a blaze as every structure and civilian burned to ash before his very eyes.

It was not the first time he had witnessed such horrors…

Smoke filled the open air around him, consuming his senses and filling his lungs as he began to choke.

__________________________________________

With a desperate breath, Cassius woke in a panic. A cold sweat drenched his trembling body causing the sheets to cling to him as he sat up. His heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that still haunted his thoughts.

Images flashed before his mind's eye, distorted and surreal as he pieced together his reality. He was in his room at the Damien estate. There was no smoke to fill his lungs…no fire to char his flesh…and no ghosts from his past here to collect for his sins.

Cassius let the weight of the dream wash over him as he focused on steadying his breaths. Eventually, he reached for the water next to his bed and took a long sip from the pitcher. Memories of the night before…and the beacon, flashed through his mind. He remembered leaving the masquerade in route to the distress signal, only to be interrupted by his father. Calbert informed him of Violet’s disappearance, the unease in his eyes clear to Cassius despite the man’s attempt at his usual, controlled demeanor.

Something within him burned with concern about the beacon…warning him that it could be a trap. It MUST be a trap. Combining that with the news of Violet gave Cassius pause. Despite his own curiosities, Cas decided to heed Calbert’s plea to remain at the estate.

He spent the rest of his night helping however he could, and sat with Crystal in the dining room offering what comfort he could to her. Throughout it all, he felt as though in some ways his assistance was appreciated, but he could not shake the gut feeling of being an interloper.

Cas rubbed the sleep from his eyes, only to find his senses greeted by a welcome yet distant melody; the soft vocals of a song, muffled by the walls of his room yet unmistakably enchanting. He made his way to his feet and walked over to the window, drawing back the velvet curtains and opening it so that he could hear it better. The cool morning breeze greeted his skin, carrying with it the sweet harmonies of the woman’s song.

Closing his eyes, Cassius listened, the melody washing over him in nostalgic fashion. Though this voice was its own kind of comforting beauty, he heard echoes of the songs his mother would sing to him in moments of comfort and solace during his childhood. He focused on the words intently.

“...So close your eyes now dear, my little angel,
I found you here today,
Under the leaves of the willow,
As the morning embraces us,
I'm right here with you.
And right here in my heart, you'll always be.”


Just as he was getting lost in the song, it came to an end. He wondered who the mystery girl with the beautiful voice could be, but his thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. The sound of Liliane’s voice followed.

“Cassius? … Sorry to wake you, but I need your help.”


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Hidden 8 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by princess
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Time: Morning
Location: Church of Sorian
Attire:Dress, Flats, Crown and Earrings
Interaction: @Lava Alckon Farim @Rodiak Nahir


"Whaa? Calby's cool though!" Anastasia had protested in surprise. She paused behind Farim as he introduced himself and smiled. He's so formal and polite. Like when Wulfy and Auguste introduce themselves to people.

Count Damien rose promptly from his seat with a broad smile and presented a formal bow. "Ah, Shehzade Farim, what a tremendous honor to have you with us today, and to have you here in Sorian this season." he responded with enthusiasm. He then gestured to blonde man next to him, "And this, Shehzade, is my good friend, Count Landon Monet. He's traveled from the southeast to visit for a few days."

Count Monet offered a polite nod, extending his hand for a handshake, "Your Highness. Your reputation precedes you...I’ve heard quite a bit about your recent endeavors. They’re quite remarkable." His tone was more measured than Calbert's yet welcoming all the same. "It is indeed good to see you join us, and Princess Anastasia as well. She has quite the fan club among my little ones."

Calbert, ever the charismatic, added with a flourish, "What a treat to have both of you choose to sit with us among all the lovely people here. I must confess, I'm rather excited!" His attention then shifted to Anastasia, who was visibly eager to jump into the conversation.

No longer able to contain her excitement, Anastasia threw her arms around Calbert, exclaiming, "Hi Calby!"

Calbert laughed heartily and wrapped her in a brief hug. "Always a pleasure, my dear!"

Anastasia beamed, stepping back. She waved briefly to Count Landon with a smile, then moved to take her seat next to Farim. The children seemed momentarily preoccupied, busying themselves with a puzzle on the floor, but she'd call their attention soon anyhow.

As Nahir and Ece sat with them, Anastasia’s gaze quickly shifted to the Shehzadi, her eyes lighting up. “Oh wow! Nahir! You look so stunning! ” Anastasia blurted out, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. Her gaze shifted to the woman with her, picking up on her name from Farim's initial greeting. "And so do you, Ece. You're so cute." She patted the seat beside her and smiled at Nahir. "Please come sit with me."
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Hidden 8 mos ago Post by Tae
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Time: Morning
Location: Munir's Room
Attire: Munir's Shirt
Interaction: @Infinite Cosmos Munir
Mentions:



When Munir gently picked up her hands, Mina couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth amidst the turmoil within her. His kisses felt like soft whispers of reassurance, a reminder of the connection they shared. Yet she still couldn't bring herself to look at him as she lay her head on her knees that she'd been previously gripping tightly. Silent tears had begun to fall as she tried desperately to get a hold of herself and calm her racing heart.

As Munir released her hands and lifted her face to meet his, Mina found herself lost in the depths of his eyes. His words washed over her, filling her with a sense of both comfort and uncertainty. Was he being truthful? Had his words really only been a joke? Wasn't there always some truth to jokes? So many questions raced through her mind, but she tried to shove them away and really focus on what was being said now, believing what was said in this moment.

When he asked her to promise never to shed another tear because of him, Mina hesitated. She understood his intentions, his desire to shield her from pain, but she couldn't bring herself to make such a promise. Instead, she gently touched his cheek, her thumb tracing the contours of his face.

"I can't promise you that, Munir," she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "Life is unpredictable, and relationships are complex. Tears are a natural part of being human, and I can't guarantee that we'll never face challenges or hardships. But what I can promise you is this: I will always communicate with you, openly and honestly. We'll face whatever comes our way together, and we'll work through it, no matter how difficult it may be."

Mina's eyes searched Munir's, hoping he would understand the depth of what she was saying. "I promise to always be here for you, to support you, and to love you with all that I am," she continued, her voice steady with determination. Then Mina took a deep breath. "But we can't discuss marriage until I know you understand me, my plights, and what could be coming in the future," she added firmly, her voice steady despite the lingering traces of uncertainty. "I still have more to tell you, what I've told you so far is only the tip of the iceberg."

She reached out, gently placing her hand over Munir's heart, feeling the steady rhythm beneath her touch. "I need you to be fully aware of who I am and what I carry with me every single day, Munir," she continued, her tone earnest. "Only then can we truly decide if marriage is something we both want and are ready for."

Mina's expression softened as she searched Munir's face, a silent plea for understanding and patience shining in her eyes. "I want nothing more than to share my life with you, but I need to know that you're ready to accept all of me, including the parts that may be difficult or challenging, and I need you to realize this isn't a joke," she explained, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "Can you promise me that, Munir?” Perhaps there was a twinge of bitterness to her voice, upset that at first he couldn't take her confession seriously and made a joke out of it, but she hadn't been lying when she said they'd face challenges together and work through them. She knew that bitter feeling would fade before long.
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Hidden 8 mos ago Post by Infinite Cosmos
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Infinite Cosmos XIV

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Location: Where the magic happens
Interactions: @Taewifey

Munir listened to Mina intently. Taking in each word and phrase she said and making sure that he truly understood what she was getting at. In truth, he has never been good at facing adversity. He hasn't had to face many and the ones he did have to face were easily dismissed with money or status. Hearing what Mina was saying made him realize that a relationship, and by extension marriage, is no child's play. Committing one's life and future to another should always be taken and considered seriously.

"I am sorry that I made a jest at your plight. I know no amount of explaining I do now will erased the horrible feelings I've caused in you. It wasn't and never has been my intention. In truth, I make jokes and I jest to escape from facing the harshness of life. Being a noble, I've been privileged to live a life of ease and comfort. Anything I wanted I had. Any difficulty I faced melted away when enough coins gets thrown at it. It's how it has always been for me. I'm beginning to realize that what I asked of you requires just as much, if not more, commitment from myself. I know I am ready for it. I just need to be able to show you. Yes. I promise you. I want to learn you. I want to know all of you. Inside, and out. Tell me everything. and I will do the same. I promise to commit myself to you. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. We will face any challenges and difficulties that may come our way together."

Munir said to Mina. His eyes burned with passion but his expressions were soft and genuine. The woman is the love of his life. If he cannot be vulnerable with her, then who?
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Hidden 8 mos ago 7 mos ago Post by Potter
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Potter

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Time: Morning
Location: Church of Sorian
Interactions: @princess Anastasia ☁ @Rodiak Nahir ☁ @Lava Alckon Farim

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Aesthetic:
☁ Hair
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The pitter-patter of the rain on Kira’s carriage soothed her heart. She reveled in the dreary weather. How relaxing it was to sit outside and watch the rain? She dreaded the sunny weather and wished that Sorian would be drenched in the rain. People ran to and fro and covered themselves as if they might melt. Kira snickered; it was quite amusing to watch these nobles act as if their lives might be ruined by the rain. She held a parasol closed neatly in her hand only to blend in; otherwise she would have happily enjoyed the weather. Alas, she had duties to attend to, and with that, she turned away from the entrance.

Finally, her carriage stopped outside the Church of Sorian. There was a pause as she opened her parasol and awaited her door opening. She tapped her foot and drummed her fingers alongside the doorway and sighed when the servant opened the door. “Jeez, I was beginning to think you washed away in the rain,” The man blanched and he grimaced as if to say “I’m sorry.” She patted the servant’s head and accepted his hand. She stepped out with the parasol above her and smiled pleasantly. The pitter patter now drizzled onto her parasol like a songbird’s melody.

“I’m only messing with you. How could such a handsome and benevolent servant as you get lost, James?” He said nothing and averted his gaze while Jesse closed the doors to her carriage. “You’re a quiet man, James. You know I like hearing your voice.” The man’s eyes narrowed into slits as they faced each other at the doorway. “Wait. You got your tongue cut out didn’t you? That’s a shame, James. Get it? James Shames or Shame James. Your new nickname!”

He glared at her and his hand twitched, yet he made no effort to act on it. Kira giggled and kissed his cheek playfully. “Be a good brother and go fetch Jesse. I’m going to be bored here, you know, and Jason made plenty of treats for me.” James bowed reluctantly and turned up the aisle way of the pews and stood at the back momentarily. Her gaze swept over the architecture and regrettably, she marveled at the beauty of it. If only so much work had been done for the rest of Sorian. Kira sighed and decided not to linger on it anymore. James returned, slipped a bag into her hand, and then disappeared as quickly as he had come. She stuffed it in her boot and it was now concealed perfectly.

Kira ignored him and observed the room. Towards the back sat Lorenzo and Charlotte Vikena. It would not do well to mingle with them. At the front was Princess Anastasia, and two of Alidasht's royalties. Kira glanced between the two groups then strode forward with the confidence of the world. She strode past the Vikena's until she joined the group up front. She averted her gaze from Count Damien.

“Princess Anastasia, Count Damien, and dare I say, the Shehzadi and Shahzade?” Kira inquired and curtsied politely. Her voice was as sweet as honey and she appeared innocent. Kira stood tall and kept her hands neatly knitted together as to not cause any worry for the entourage and bodyguards. “What an honor to make your acquaintances.” She paused, and allowed a moment to pass then continued. “May I sit with your Highnesses, please? Also, my name is Kira - Kira Lockhart.”

Lockhart. She resisted the urge to snicker and waited for their responses.
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Hidden 8 mos ago Post by Apex Sunburn
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Apex Sunburn Justified text enjoyer

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Time: Morning
Location: The Church
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It didn’t take long for Sjan-dehk and Iyen to find the temple. The radiant morning sun was still where it had been when they left the docks – lingering midway between the horizon and its zenith – and that alone was far more than what could be said for Sjan-dehk when he navigated the city on his own.

That little fact didn’t escape Iyen’s notice – how she even found out about it was a mystery – and she used it to its fullest extent to tease Sjan-dehk. For the most part, he didn’t particularly mind. If this was all it took to get a rise out of him, the two of them wouldn’t even be friends. And besides, she deserved to have a bit of fun, and he somewhat deserved to have that fun be done at his expense. Iyen had been the one to read the map and lead the way this entire time, after all, and she had done a good job of it. Far better than what he would have done, Sjan-dehk had to admit.

He just wished that she would stop playing jump rope with the boundary between teasing and gloating.

“This wasn’t so hard, was it?” Iyen’s grin was full of unrestrained smugness, and her eyes didn’t twinkle as much as they scintillated with wicked mischief. Loose strands of hair hung like black, wispy vines down the sides of her face, and tickled her cheeks. The corners of her lips rose even higher. “Really, a Captain such as you shouldn’t have any trouble finding his way around. Or should I say, ‘charting his course’? That’s the way sea-faring provincials like you put it, isn’t it?”

Sjan-dehk grumbled beneath his breath. “You’re just as provincial as I am, Sudhrayarn,” he shot back, but his words lacked strength. There wasn’t much for him to say, not when Iyen’s navigation had brought them here, in the midst of the crowd gathering before the temple’s doors. He pulled his hat a little lower over his eyes to shade them from the sun’s glare. “Charting a course at sea’s completely different from finding one building among hundreds that look the damn same in a city this fucking confusing.”

Iyen giggled. “Excuses, excuses,” she sang and danced a few steps ahead. When Sjan-dehk didn’t follow, and she saw how utterly unimpressed he looked, she returned to his side and gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Young Marcher Prince. You’re still a brave and intrepid sailor to me. One I’d follow all the way to the ends of the world.”

Despite Iyen trying to placate him as she would a child, Sjan-dehk chuckled. “If by ‘ends of the world’, you mean the Kokinshun islands, then you’ve already done that many times.” He cast her a sideways look and a cheeky grin. “Might want to consider changing your words. Otherwise one might think you’re insincere.”

“Oh, it’s the thought that counts with such things. Besides, I came all the way here with you, didn’t I?” Iyen replied and took him by the arm. “Anyway, let’s hurry. We’re not going to find out what these people pray to by standing around out here!”

There wasn’t much Sjan-dehk could do apart from allowing himself to be dragged by Iyen as she barrelled through the crowd. For someone with a physique as slender as hers, she had little trouble pushing people easily twice her size aside, and each time with a friendly smile and word of excuse. Unfortunately, she said it all in Viserjantan, leaving Sjan-dehk the trouble of providing hurried translations and additional apologies to those who had the misfortune of being in her way. She only stopped and released Sjan-dehk once they were at the base of the steps leading up and into the temple itself. Dark grey stone, joined by pale mortar, towered over them. Panes of coloured glass decorated the walls, and ornately carved statues stared down imperiously from the roof’s edge.

“Impressive place,” Iyen remarked.

“That, it is,” Sjan-dehk agreed and immediately turned to look at her. “You’re sure you won’t get the both of us kicked out dressed like that?”

Iyen clicked her tongue. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m perfectly decent.”

“By Sudhrayarn standards, yes,” Sjan-dehk replied drily. Iyen’s clothes were still largely similar to what she had been wearing earlier, aboard Sudah, and therein laid the problem. Most of the people here – the ones he could see, at least – were dressed rather modestly. Nothing fancy or elaborate, just clothes that left far more to the imagination than what Iyen wore. Her shirt was little more than an decorated strip of cloth that was wrapped tight around her chest, leaving her shoulders and belly exposed. And while her skirt reached down to her calves, the thin fabric favoured by the Sudhrayarns were almost translucent in the radiance of the Caesonian sun. Thankfully, the pants she wore underneath still left plenty to the imagination.

Iyen rolled her eyes. “When did you become so…So fashion conscious?”

“I’m not,” Sjan-dehk said with a shrug. “I just don’t want this to become another Som Dran Incident. You do remember what happened then, don’t you?”

“Sjan-dehk, they didn’t throw me out because of what I wore. They threw us out because someone tried to touch me and I almost gelded him.” She smirked. “And you got thrown out because you just jumped in and almost turned a small fight into a full battle. Which reminds me, are you sure you want to go into a place of worship looking like you want to pick a fight with their Gods?”

“Yes,” Sjan-dehk’s response was instantaneous. He didn’t like the idea of being disarmed, and besides, no God worth that title should be worried about one man armed with only two swords and two pistols. “Maybe I’m the one who misremembered. Sorry. I think the fight's really what stayed in my memory. Was a good one, I think.” He gave Iyen an apologetic nod, who looked as if she wanted to say something, but settled on waving it off with a smile. Then, Sjan-dehk pulled out one of his spare shirts, which he had tucked between his shoulder-belt and his body. “I grabbed this when I got my weapons from Sada Kurau. You might as well take it since I brought it all the way here.”

Iyen tittered and accepted the shirt. “My, what a gallant Captain,” she teased. “Are you that worried about me? You know as well asI do that I can take care of myself. Anyone who tries anything would have to deal with this–” she patted the curved sword and pistol sheathed and holstered on her left, then the rope coiled around her waist “–and this.”

Sjan-dehk grinned. “It’s not you who I’m concerned over. It’s whoever that offends you. Lady Adiyan would skin us both alive if we ended today with a murder, however justified it might be. I hear that that’s not great for establishing trade relations. Or relations of any kind.”

“I’ve heard the same,” Iyen replied with a laugh. She threw Sjan-dehk’s shirt around her shoulders and tied the sleeves over her chest, wearing it much like a cape. “Oh, by the way,” she began as they quickly went up the steps. “Do you know anything about what’s happening here? I’ve heard talk that they’re going to be worshipping their king or something.”

Sjan-dehk frowned. “No, I haven’t,” he replied truthfully. How did Iyen hear of such things, when she spent far more time away from the city than he? Sjan-dehk decided against asking. Iyen’s ways were mysterious and sometimes better left unknown. “But that can’t be. I just saw their king a few days ago. Unless they’ve got a damn good sorcerer on their payroll using his corpse like a puppet, he was alive then and he’s likely alive now. Worshipping someone still living…” He wrinkled his nose. “That’s just not right.”

Iyen was quiet for a moment. “Do you think they’re going to sacrifice him?” She asked casually. “Make him a deity by giving him a hand in ascending?”

“Careful, your Sudhrayarn instincts are showing.”

A playful punch to his shoulder was Iyen’s immediate response. “Oh, shut up,” she said. It was clear in her tone that she wasn’t offended in the least. “We haven’t done that since three centuries ago. Two at least, if you want to be one of those hair-splitting scholar types.”

“Well, I hope it’s not a sacrifice,” Sjan-dehk said flatly. “Going to be hard to explain to Lady Adiyan that the king we want to negotiate with decided to up and become a God.”

A huge portrait of the King, mounted in an elaborate – almost overly so – altar which dominated the entire temple, was what greeted Sjan-dehk and Iyen as they stepped onto the polished marble floor. As the two of them quietly made their way to a corner far to the back, they noticed more portraits of the King hanging from the rafters. There was even a painting of his face on the floor, something which struck Sjan-dehk as a particularly confusing decision. Either the King was inviting others to walk on his face, or he was making it difficult for his own people to walk through the temple. Neither seemed befitting of anyone holding a title of that stature. A deep discomfort filled Sjan-dehk. This didn’t feel like any religious service he knew.

Iyen felt the same. “By the Shadowed Green, what’s going on here?” She asked in a hushed whisper.

Sjan-dehk shook his head. He didn’t know. But he did have a good guess. “I think we just found ourselves a cult.”
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Hidden 8 mos ago Post by FunnyGuy
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FunnyGuy

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Time: Early Morning
Location: Sorian Ghetto
Attire: Alexander’s attire
Interaction:
Mention: @Helo Callum Danrose, King Edin


The morning air of the Sorian slums was as welcoming as some who called it home. Alexander, looking presentable, found himself conversing with a geezer of a peasant who wouldn't stop scowling at him. Alexander assumed his very presence in a place he did not belong was offensive in a way.

“I don’t believe this. Free?” The old man's words were lathered in doubt. Even so, Alexander remained calm and easily displayed the event section of the newspaper to him.

“Clear as day on the newspaper.”

“I can’t read.” Alexander was half a second from moving on from the man but another piped up.

“I can! It says it right there! The grand… opening of the… Royal Curd…” Though he could read, he took his time in doing so. “Here attendees will have the op-… opperto-... opportunity to dine in the presence of their beloved ruler, who….”

“Graciously.”

Yes uh… graciously offers to pay for the meals of all in attendance! Free food for just showing up? Kinda like the pancake event we didn't hear about until it was all over.”

“Well, that's why I'm here to spread the good news.” Alexander rolled up the paper with a grin.

“Hmm... I wanna know the damn catch. What’s a fancy sort like you doing here in the slums handing out chances for a free meal?”

“Good point. What’s the deal?”

“I am simply supporting Prince Callum Danrose’s efforts to ensure the less fortunate have access to more opportunities within the kingdom.” The confidence in his delivery was frightening if his true intentions were known. “The prince has made these efforts a priority. And it only makes sense that he would desire to sprinkle such courtesies into his father's events. Prince Callum is the prince for the people. The real people.” Alexander flashed a grand smile. “Spread the word. The more who attend, the more frequent these opportunities will become. Now with that, I bid you farewell.” Alexander nodded quickly and continued with his rolled newspaper in hand.

“Hmm.”

“Support Callum and he supports us?”

“And all we have to do is show up… Let's round up some grumblin' bellies and see if the newspaper got some truth to it.”


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Hidden 8 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by Helo
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Helo Wonderlust King

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Lord Leo Smithwood

Time: Morning
Location: Sorian’s shrine of Edin
Interactions: Riona @JJ Doe
Daily Misfortune: Leo's hair and skin are now hot pink.


“You thought a collection of tacky, women’s shoes that looked like a sugared-up child picked them out were appropriate for a fashionable gentleman of my standing? If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.” Leo answered with an eye roll. “No, for some reason you have decided to harbor a bizarre grudge against me. Going so far as to take the olive branch, I so graciously extended to you, snap it in half, and toss it aside. Like a petulant child.” He went on to explain, in great detail, exactly what was wrong with every shoe that was placed in his room. Until he got to the lion slippers, “I suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day, the slippers were acceptable. However, your ability to hold an umbrella steady is unimpressive.”

Leo was not letting the shoe situation go, perpetually irked by the fact that every time Riona was unable to follow simple orders, he was then forced to continue interacting with her. “I cannot understand why Lady Morrigan finds this an appropriate remedy, the burden of correcting unruly servants should not fall upon guests. This would never happen in Varian. Have I offended her somehow?” He paused, perplexed as to what he could’ve possibly done to offend Morrigan.

“Ah, never mind, how would you know the answer to that.” He chuckled at the thought of some random maid having any insights into Morrigan’s mind. “Now about my room, the furniture needs moved around…” Leo went on to explain how the placement of everything in his room needed to be rearranged in some manner and how he expected Riona to make sure that was taken care of by nightfall. Truly, Leo was enjoying the sound of his own voice again now that it was back to normal.

“And, since it seems beyond your understanding, I will explain how this works; I assign a task and you do it correctly. Then we can stop having these unwanted interactions, everyone wins. I can go about my day, unhindered by incompetence, and you can return to whatever it is you do when not bothering me. Oh like playing in horse muck. Speaking of, my horse, Menace, could also use some grooming. He can be a bit temperamental but I’m sure you’ll figure that out.” Leo then entered the strange shrine to Edin’s glory, feeling like he had handled this situation quite well.

“Refresh my memory, do you worship His Royal Majesty as if he were the embodiment of a god or because the King is divinely chosen?” He asked, he never paid much attention to religious practices. It was all just superstitious nonsense as far he was concerned, but while in attendance he should at least have some idea of what was going on today. “Don’t forget to put the umbrella away once inside.” He added. Once inside he looked for a seat near the back, just in case the service was boring. He didn’t want to be seen looking half asleep too close to a king, and currently, he stuck out like a sore thumb - one dipped in bright pink paint at that.
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Hidden 8 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by SilverPaw
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SilverPaw

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Attire: Hunting gear -> A toga (over a tunic) and sandals
Date and Time: Sola 24th, Predawn -> Morning
Location: His room -> Knights' barracks -> The forest -> The castle -> The church
Mention(s): AT THE CHURCH @Helo a very pink Leo, @JJ Doe someone he knows?
Interaction(s): AT THE CHURCH @princess Anastasia, Calbert & Landon, @Lava Alckon Farim, @Rodiak Nahir & Ece, @PotterKira
EARLY MORNING

One moment, he was sleeping, the next, he was awake and alert. He’d startled, and was almost halfway up and out of the bed, but it didn’t take looking around to know he was alone. “Tch.” He dragged a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, and sat up. Raindrops pattered against the windows and balcony doors. Accompanying it was incessant, loud, overly-frivolous chirping. From where he’d set it on the night desk, Wulfric picked up his revolver, cocked it, and treaded lightly to the balcony doors.

Of course, opening them alerted the sparrows regardless, and they flew off away from where they’d been perching. “Damn birds,” he muttered. It was a dark, cloudy, rainy morning. It was the twilight before dawn; the clouds only partially covered the gradually lightening skies. It was blessedly fresh, and he inhaled, deep and long. He stood there for a while, soaking in the atmosphere – and the rain – not minding the drizzle the winds carried his way.

The rich earthly scent of petrichor hung heavily in the air. The rain washed away the usual smells of civilization, and enhanced those of nature. There was that distinctive freshly aquatic odor of the river and waterfall carried all the way from the direction of the forest. Then there were the woodland undertones of the trees, shrubs, and grasses. From the nearby castle’s gardens, the fragrance of flowering apple and magnolia trees was spreading, their sweetness as gentle as their budding blossoms.

It was pleasant, relaxing, invigorating.

Wulfric opened his eyes, staring into distances unknown.

He still wanted to shoot something.

With a low sigh, he retreated back inside. He had several hours to spare; he would go on a hunt. He dressed in simple, if high quality hunting attire, and donned a leather cloak.

THE BARRACKS

What he assumed would be a short stop at the knights’ barracks – he was there only to fetch his metaphorically dusty archery equipment – was unexpectedly prolonged when he found out about the previous night’s happenings at the Varian ceremony.

Despite its vicinity to the hospital, the knights’ barrack had its own medical quarter. As he neared the hallway leading to it, he heard an unusual hubbub. Wulfric changed his intended route, investigating the noise.

Within the infirmary, a troubling sight awaited.

One royal guard lay injured on a medical bed. His chest was heavily bandaged. A nurse had just changed the bandages, and was on her way to dispose of the old bandages which had bled through. The injured man had a deathly pallor about him, breathing shallowly in his coma, a layer of cold sweat clinging to him. Near his bed was a captain of the guards, and three other lower ranking men. The guards had been holding a discussion, though it died down at his approach.

“Your Highness,” the captain greeted, and all the guards bowed. “As you were.” At his sign, they straightened up.

“Captain…Blair,” Wulfric recalled his name after a beat. His gaze flitted to the recovering guard. “What happened?”

The head guard gave his account of the event. “We were searching for Lady Violet, Your Highness, which led us to the ceremony at the Lover’s Lake. There, a fellow named Erik, who introduced himself as the manager of the Ravenwood Artisan Guild, warned us away. We did not leave, however, and Lord Ravenwood, who wasn’t himself, charged us. Ravenwood’s guards tried to stop him, but it was in vain. We drew our weapons. Casey over there was the first in his path, and…” The man trailed off. “He looked like a fu– like some monster bear had clawed him,” he concluded quietly. A moment of grim silence passed before Blair finished his report. “Ravenwood was then led away by some others. On the orders of Prince Callum and Princess Anastasia, we left the premises. We carried Casey here, and alerted a doctor. I ordered several other guards to continue the search for Lady Violet.”

Wulfric nodded once, appreciative of the comprehensive summary. However, there were a plethora of questions which occurred to him. “Let us start from the beginning…Since when is Lady Violet missing? Why were you searching for her at the Lover’s Lake?”

“Countess Damien reported it last night.” The man proceeded to explain shortly why such urgency had been deemed necessary.

“Yet no one thought to search Lady Violet’s room to inspect the ‘disarray’ mentioned by the countess?” Clearly, the answer was no. Too, the guards had merely followed the count and countess’ suspicions that Violet might have gone to the ceremony.

“We will certainly have to review security and investigation protocols. A renowned noble he may be, but you do not follow Count Calbert’s orders or suggestions blindly.” At his stern tone, a murmur of apologies followed.

The guards’ contriteness was sufficient, so the prince nodded. “You said you were warned away? Did this Erik act antagonistically…?” he frowned.

“No, Prince Wulfric. He was genuinely worried. He said Lord Ravenwood had taken some sort of a drug which made him vicious towards perceived threats.”

“A perceived threat, hm?” Wulfric scoffed. It was telling that a Varian man in their land faced with their people considered Caesonian guards a threat. Drugged he may have been, yet obviously, the Varians were well aware of the potential risks. “How was the situation resolved? You said someone lured Lord Roman away?”

He was given the description of a woman he recognized – Torvi. Jorviksdottir had taken it upon herself to redirect the crazed lord’s attention by taking away Lady Mina Blackwood. “That white-haired woman is one of our agents. It was a good thing she was there,” he commented. A pause followed as he organized his thoughts. “What is Casey’s state?” In other words, would the man make it or not.

“He’ll pull through. They say he was lucky,” Blair added bitterly.

“I see,” Wulfric stated. There was a brief pause as he considered the situation. “His medical stay will be fully paid for, including his salary for any days of missed work because of his injury. Inform his family if you have not done so yet.”

Blair swallowed heavily, seemingly touched. “He’ll…he’ll appreciate that, Your Highness.”

There was a contemplative quietude shared among the men.

“Varian will pay.” Wulfric proclaimed.

The main culprit of the incident was certainly Lord Ravenwood. “Social faux-pas or no, permit or no, you adhered to your duties. To have one of the royal guards nearly slaughtered to death,” he shook his head. “It will not stand.”

The prince huffed. “Now, I don’t expect that the lord will ever so much as face charges for assault, however, I will ensure that the Varian royals compensate us for this matter.”

That, however, was for later. He had intended to go on a hunt, and so hunt he would. There were only two questions remaining. “Lady Violet is still missing?” The captain confirmed this with a nod. “…And what of my siblings?” he queried.

One of the guards who’d been silent thus far shifted awkwardly. “Er– Your Highness,” the man was awkwardly torn between wanting to look away and trying not to seem as if that’s what he was doing. “I ‘eard– I ‘eard the princess was carried to ‘er room by Sh-Shah– …by His Highness Farim.” He shuffled sheepishly, a hint of red creeping into his cheeks. “She– she was out of it – tha’s jus’ wot I ‘eard, is all!” he exclaimed, patently aware how this news would be taken.

“She what?” Wulfric hissed ferociously. The guard folded into himself with as much guilt as a scolded puppy. “S-sorry, I dunno any more, Prince Wulfric.”

The royal clenched his teeth. “Continue your duties. My siblings’ guards will be dealt with in due time.” It was fortunate none of them were there at this very moment, or he would have been irresistibly tempted to give them all a good whipping. The sheer incompetence was appalling, and Wulfric added ‘extra training for the royal guards’ to his ever-growing mental list of to-dos.

He exited the infirmary in an awful mood, though the knowledge that he’d get to unwind in the following hours helped. He fetched his sturdy composite bow, a quiver and arrows, a bow sling, and some other supplies. Before he departed, he had a very light breakfast alongside the few knights who had either risen early or were on their way to sleep following a night shift. He packed a few treats for the hounds he’d take today, and was finally on his way.

THE FOREST

He picked up a pack of short-legged scent hounds at the royal kennels. The building was sizeable for what it was, as they kept different types and breeds of hunting dogs. Inside, each had a spacious kennel which could be opened up into the outdoors area. Outside, they had fenced exercise grounds for the days when no one was taking them on a hunt.

The canines at the kennels were unusually restless. “They’ve been loud all night. Something’s got ‘em disturbed,” the hound master commented.

“Is that so…?” A number of select hounds were released to accompany him, barking loudly in excitement, and he crouched down to greet them. He petted the bunch as they crowded around him. “Let’s go.” He snapped his fingers, and the hounds followed.

Soon, they were trekking into the forested area towards the west-north of the castle. There were still plenty of trails to follow along this close to civilization. They passed near enough to the Lover’s Lake for Wulfric to notice the Varians at work already.

They were cleaning up after the ceremony – and after Roman’s rampage. The evidence of the man’s mindless wrath was plentiful; numerous trees had been felled or heavily damaged, and there was an eerie silence as the animals had vacated the surrounding area.

Wulfric couldn’t help but think that part of the reason for the Varian’s clean up was to remove evidence of all that had transpired.

Silently, he headed further northwards. The ground was soft due to the rainfall it had soaked up throughout the night, the muddy areas yielding under his boots. The underbrush swished between his ankles, growing taller and denser the further he strayed off the beaten path. Leaves rustled with the wind and rain, thick droplets penetrating the canopy to fall down below.

He sent the dogs ahead, and followed their communicative barks. As soon as they caught scent of a prey, their pitch changed, and he knew they were hot in pursuit. He followed on foot at a steady pace. When he closed in on the dogs, he took ahold of his bow from where it’d been slung on his back. He grasped it in his left, ready to shoot. When the pack was within sigh, he withdrew an arrow from the quiver. Then, the hare was within sight, and he nocked the arrow, aimed,

released–

and missed.

Had he had a rifle, he would have made the shot. Wulfric didn’t mind though. He wasn’t that good of an archer, and getting frustrated would be pointless. Besides, the hounds were still chasing after the animal. He took his time searching for the arrow first, because he did not wish to litter.

When he found the hounds next, they had managed to chase down the hare. It was a neat kill with minimal tearing. He cleaned the hare right away, letting the dogs at the parts he didn’t need.

The hunt went on afterwards, and two catches later, Wulfric deemed it enough. The second hare, he’d shot dead. The third, a rabbit, he had weakened with an arrow to its flank, and the dogs had finished it off. With three kills under his belt, it was time to head back.

TO CHURCH

At the castle, he took a simple shower, using a mild but pleasantly scented honey soap. He generally preferred long soaks in scented baths, but he was short on time. Since he had decided to attend the religious ceremony, he forewent stronger scents, additional oils, or perfumes.

An attire fit for a courting event had been prepared for him, but a change of plans called for a change of clothes. He retreated into his room in a bathrobe, calling on his servant.

His introspective mood was interrupted by a knock. He gave permission to enter. “Get me the damned ceremonial shroud, would you?” He ordered after a moment. “Ah…Your Highness will be attending the church, then,” Curran noted. He was too professional to be ruffled either by his cursing or by the request. It wasn’t an unusual request per se, but while Wulfric frequented the temple, his visits to the church were sporadic. The attendant excused himself, and returned a few moments later, bearing the requested clothing.

The tunic was simple enough to put on his own. Driven by a measure of paranoia, the prince added a belt, a sheathed dagger at his hip, and a holstered revolver at the small of his back. Finally, he turned to face the servant, extending his arms and standing still while the man wrapped the toga around him.

“It will be an event to honour His Majesty,” the servant noted. His tone was utterly blasé, but Wulfric knew the man was aware of his distaste for deification. It was a subtle warning to let him know what to expect. “Afterwards, The Royal Curd will have its grand opening,” the man added after a beat.

“The cheese restaurant?” Wulfric was tempted to sigh. He turned around at Curran’s subtle prompt as the man worked to properly place the complicated garb on him. Traditionally, wearing a toga was all about the method of wrapping and folding it, with nary a knot holding it in place. His left side was more heavily layered, which required him to keep his left hand in a fixed position at about 45 degrees, extended forward or held on his chest. He wore no additional jewelry nor any other accessories. The toga was a heavy woolen cloth, uncomfortably weighty, and rather stuffy this time of the year.

At times, he regretted that it had become somewhat of his trademark.

But it was what it was, and he hitched a ride in a carriage to the church. Plenty had gathered already, and he sighted many familiar faces. Immediately upon his entrance, there was an uptick of noise, some turning around to catch sight of him, many beginning to chatter amongst themselves. Wulfric nodded here and there in greeting, offering a sedate wave to the crowds. With his free hand, he gestured for the unruly masses to turn around and sit down. Gratifyingly, they obeyed.

More obvious than any other disturbance, however, was a blotch of…lurid pink?

Irrevocably drawn to the irregularity, Wulfric blinked at the sight of a pink Leo. What the–? He wasn’t sure if the lord was developing a penchant for absurdist humour, or if someone had played a practical joke on him. As distracted as he was staring at the out-of-place patch of pink, he almost didn’t notice the woman next to him. He blinked again.

Was that Dantès? He did not get the chance to confirm his suspicion – he had not stopped in his inspection, and was past the pair before he could get a second look. However, that woman was the same height, had the same build, and the same hair as the Lady Dantès he had met at the masquerade. However, the woman next to Leo was clearly a servant. One of their royal servants, even, if he wasn’t mistaken.

Option one. The two women were one of the same.

Option two. Leo’s hot pink visage had disturbed his sight to such an extent that a vaguely similar woman made him think of Dantès.

Frankly, both options seemed equally likely.

All thoughts of whether he’d just hallucinated or not were dispersed as he caught sight of a stranger trying to ingratiate herself to Anastasia. A random nobody, acting as if she belonged among a group of royals.

But first things first. There were royal peers and nobles he wished to greet.

“Shehzadi Nahir,” he bowed to her, “My lady,” he gave a respectful nod to Ece. “It is my hope you will find this gathering enjoyable and illuminating.”

He stepped forward, not yet acknowledging the intruder. “Shahzade Farim…” It was unfortunate that they were not in a more private area, as he wished to thank the man. “A good day to you, and may it be peaceful,” he said instead. “Count Damien, Count Monet,” he offered each a nod in greetings. “Good morning, Anastasia,” he graced her with a small, genuine smile.

Anastasia had already seated herself next to Farim, and thus, it was a simple matter to take a protective stance next to the pew. “Miss,” as he redirected the smile to Kira, it acquired a far cooler edge, even as his tone remained entirely pleasant and polite. “I understand the desire to mingle with such prestigious personages as ourselves. However, I am certain you can appreciate the need for caution and for proper protocol when someone as unknown as yourself approaches royalty.” Regardless of whether Nahir and Ece accepted Anastasia’s offer to sit with her, he did not intent to let the stranger anywhere near his sister. Not even if all the other royals gave their permission, he would not allow it.
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Part 1


@Rodiak Nahir @Silverpaw Wulfric @FunnyGuy Lorenzo @Helo Leo @Apex Sunburn Sjandehk @Potter Kira @JJ Doe Riona @Lava Alckon Farim

As the last notes of the music fades into a silence, a palpable sense of anticipation sweeps through the congregation. The stained glass windows throw a dramatic spectrum of colors across the faces of the awaiting folks amongst the pews.

At that moment, the side door near the altar creaks open, and a new figure with a well-kept dark beard steps into the space. His ceremonial robes rustle softly as he moves to the front. He raises his hands, signaling for quiet.

It is Father Aldric Vorn.

"My children," Father Aldric's voice resonates through the room, his tone deep and clear. "Before the arrival of our sovereign, it is our sacred duty to invoke the divine favor of the gods who watch over us. Please, rise."

As all stood, a collective rustle then sweeps through the pews. Father Aldric waits a moment, before he announces, "Let us call upon our gods, that they might bless this gathering and our beloved king."

"In the light of Zivitas, we find grace," Aldric begins.
"Zivitas, bless us with your light." The congregation answers.

"Under the protection of Triumpheus, we find victory,"
"Triumpheus, guide us to triumph."

"With the wisdom of Imperis, we uphold order,"
"Imperis, grant us your justice."

"Through the bounty of Amora, we cherish love,"
"Amora, fill our hearts."

"Beneath the gaze of Aquena, we navigate life’s currents,"
"Aquena, steer our path."

"From the forge of Duedon, we draw strength,"
"Duedon, fortify our spirit."

"In the storms of Tempestes, we seek shelter,"
"Tempestes, calm our fears."

"Through the forests of Vena, we hunt our aspirations,"
"Vena, lead our pursuits."

As the final echo of the chants fade, the grand doors at the entrance of the church swing open with a dramatic boom that seems to shake the very foundations. As everyone turns their head to watch in unison, they find an orchestra seated in the back of the church. In the front, a choir begins to fill the stands to the left.

The anticipation in the air could be cut with a knife as the sounds of the orchestra fill the congregation's ears.

First arrives a train of ten holy torchbearers, arranged in five pairs. Each holds aloft a massive torch, the flames dancing wildly, casting flickering shadows around them. Their synchronized steps echo through the church, matching the increasing intensity of the orchestral music. The light from their torches bathe the church in a golden glow, setting a dramatic backdrop for the rest of the parade.



Hail Edin, chosen by divine grace,
In his glory, behold the gods’ face.
Triumpheus! Aquena! Imperis!
Amora! Glorius! Tempestes!

Hear the heavens declare his rule just and wise,
Vena! Duedon! Zivitas! Their powers arise!

[King Edin's voice fills the room, but his location is unknown]
Behold me, the reflection of divinity,
My reign, a testament to the gods’ affinity.
Triumpheus. Aquena. Imperis.

Amora! Glorius! Tempestes!

From cosmic battles to peaceful reign,
Vena! Duedon! Zivitas! Echo again!

In Edin’s light, the kingdom thrives,
His name sung by the gods, through our lives.

As the gods chant my name, so does eternity,
In the echoes of the cosmos, my legacy.


Behind the torchbearers, a group of beautiful women in flowing gowns gracefully enter. They carried baskets overladen with flower petals. With each step, they toss the petals into the air. The sweet fragrance of roses lofted through the church.

The atmosphere then shifts again with the thunderous march of the golden knights. Clad in shimmering armor that clink and clank with each heavy step, they raise their swords high. At this point, King Edin's voice is heard through the air as he joins in the song, but he is not seen physically.

The most unexpected performance follows: a troupe of dancers, their faces obscured by oversized, paper-mâché masks resembling King Edin’s head. These dancers, clad in flowing, ethereal fabrics, begin a ballet performance, weaving through the knights and flower maidens. The juxtaposition of the eerie masks with the delicate grace of their dance create a bizarre spectacle.

As the last dancer spins out of the aisle, the congregation is left in a state of awe, their applause thundering through the church. The culmination of this theatrical procession set the stage perfectly for King Edin’s grand entrance.

There, in the threshold, finally appears King Edin, though not merely walking as a common man might. No, he sits upon a magnificent chair, a throne carried aloft on the shoulders of eight men dressed in crimson and gold. The throne itself is gilded and encrusted with jewels.

King Edin sat imperiously upon his elevated seat, his head held high. His crown, outrageously large and elaborate, is set with towering plumes of red and white feathers and glittering gemstones that caught every flicker of light. This crown, dramatic in its size, seems almost a burden to bear, yet it rests securely upon his head.

Behind him, more attendants follow, their sole task to manage the majestic, fur-lined red cape that flowed from his shoulders. This cape is so extensive that it requires the hands of six attendants to ensure it does not brush the ground. Each attendant holds a portion of the fabric, their steps measured to avoid any misstep that might mar the regal display.

As the bearers carry King Edin down the aisle, everyone rises to their feet in unison, a wave of murmurs rolling through the crowd. The sight of their king, elevated above them, is overwhelming, though Edin himself seems to refuse to look upon anyone's face at this point in time.

Upon reaching the front of the church, the bearers gently set the throne down with practiced ease, allowing King Edin to rise. As he steps forward, the bearers and attendants neatly arrange his cape behind him, ensuring that not a fold is out of place. Standing before his people, King Edin raises his hands ceremoniously, and a massive applause follows.



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Lorenzo & Charlotte

Time: Morning
Location: Sorian Church

Lorenzo could not help but feel a bit nervous as he and Charlotte arrived at the church. Especially with his streak of causing some type of commotion at whatever gathering he attended. This time (for sure!) he would ensure that he would make no wrong moves. This wouldn't be like the beach. This wouldn't be like the ball. This wouldn't be like breakfast at the park. This wouldn't be like the theater play. This wouldn't be like the dinner with the Alidasht royal family. And to top it all off, Lorenzo hadn't relapsed…yet.

He found Charlotte's suggestion of sitting in the back as they both entered to be genius. It would keep them out of sight and out of mind to the others in attendance and also give them the…

“Perfect opportunity to make fun of the backs of people's heads.” Lorenzo whispered with a mischievous grin.

She giggled and nudged him lightly with her elbow, “And after your legendary hat contest, I'm sure you're more than qualified to judge.” With a small journal in her hand, she and Lorenzo made their way over to a less populated pew in the back and took their seats. “So tell me, what earns the top marks in the Duke of Vermillion’s grand hat league? The audacity of the feathers or the sheer altitude of the hats?” Charlotte then mused with mirth in her gaze. Lorenzo pressed his lips together, stifling a laugh. He briefly allowed a smile to break free before putting on a serious face.

“Hmph. Well, Lady Vikena the feathers and attitudes of competing hats are indeed qualifying factors to earn a place in the realm of the grand hat league but it is often a unique flair that allows a hat to outshine all others.” Lorenzo held his nose up high like a pompous art critic.

“Oh well I’ll certainly keep that in mind. I plan to win the next one.” She patted her head with a cheeky smile. “Going to have a real show-stopper up on this noggin of mine.”

“For instance,” his voice became a whisper. “Do you see the ears on that man three pews ahead, in the blue…” She followed his gaze as he spoke of a man in blue, hesitating briefly. “Charlotte, my dear, if that man turns his head too quickly, he might blow half the members of his pew away.”

“...Oh goodness. The poor dear. “ Charlotte shook her head and teased him, “We’re in a church, we should be nice.” A smirk slowly grew on her lips and she added in a whisper, “It’ll most likely be King Edin’s ego that takes up all the air space in the room and throws us all off the pews.”

“For a second I thought you were mistaking ego for his intolerance to dairy but we haven’t gotten to that part just yet. Speaking of, are you up for attending the grand opening of The Royal Curd as well?” He wondered if she ever felt any event fatigue with so much happening this courting season.

Charlotte sighed thoughtfully. “Hmm… I am a little weary from the ball last night, however, if you are going, I’d like to come with you.” She smiled at him but her eyes saddened, a sight Lorenzo never wished to see on his precious daughter's face. “Truthfully, I’ve missed spending time with you the last few days. I was really glad to hear you wanted me to come with you this morning.”

“Lottie.” He took her hand in his, squeezing it firmly. She returned the gesture immediately and affectionately. “It’s how things should always be. You and I against… whoever seeks to usurp the mighty fairy mermaid queen. And, I'm so very sorry if I made you believe otherwise with how I behaved in the carriage that night. There's no excuse for that and… I don't want to ever worry you… so we can have a long discussion about the things in my room… but only after enjoying all the cheese you can eat.” He smiled, his eyes glistening as they slightly teared up.

As he spoke, the smile on her face finally reached her eyes. “Well… Nobody would respect a future duchess who refused free cheese, so a cheese party it is.” She then leaned her head on his shoulder and added softly, “It’ll always be you and I; I have your back no matter what.”

“And I am grateful, Lottie. I wouldn't have it any other way…” Lorenzo peered down at her, giving her hand another comforting squeeze. “Lottie, you do have my back no matter what. If only you could be my advisor.” He sighed. “Finding someone suitable has been a tad difficult and if I don't choose before Prince Wulfric becomes impatient, he'll select someone for me.”

“... Hmm. Do not fret. I will prepare a list of options for you by the end of this event…” She removed her pen from the binder of the journal, a click filling the air. “Did Prince Wulfric present you any guidelines for what constitutes someone suitable?”

“Hmm.” Lorenzo scratched his head trying to recall the conversation. It was funny how clearly he remembered the prince's unamused expressions more than his words. “I don't think so but it should be someone I would listen to. Someone to help me make better decisions. Emina had been that for me-… though I believe I… I believe I often upset her.”

Charlotte was quiet for a moment before she said, “I often upset her too.” She opened the journal and got to work writing. “No peeking.”

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Kazumin Nagasa




Time: Mid-late morning
Location: Sorian Beach-> Blossom Cafe
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The morning light crept in, bathing him in its burning glow. A faint itch to his eye-lids stirred the blonde from sleep;

That itch then turned into burning and as Kazu further awakened, he felt a painful ache from his hands. The sudden jolting pain from both forced his body to burst upward, only to feel something hard and metallic smack the top back of his head.

A slew of loud curses and metallic clanging of tins and kitchen equipment being knocked over.” Ah ya bloody fuckwit! Ya *beep* *beep of all the stupid *beep* *beep* you son of a mule’s *beep beep beep*”

The string of insults flung at the sun and whatever else caused him such an unpleasant way to wake up. With a pained grunt, Kazu plopped back down against the stack of boxes he had been propped against, the overcoat lying to his left, seemingly having been draped over him like a blanket.

” Whoever said a sunshine’s kiss is a blessing can kiss my mule's ass.” He grumbled with a derisive scoff; gingerly touching the small lump now formed on his head, immediately regretting doing so as he was reminded again of his hand’s soreness.

“ Ach! Shucks sakes! Fuck!” Sitting upright to check and inspect his hands, where he would see they were red and still partially wrinkly leaving them sore and raw to the touch.

A sudden montage of intense, nonstop dishwashing and endless piles of filthy dishes while quick glimpses of the head server shouting at him; insults or instructions, the confused and tired farmboy could not differentiate.” So..much..scrubbing. No more…”

A shuddering gasp left his lips as the montage ended leaving him sitting there shaking with an incredulous expression from what truly tarnished his mood.” ….of all the things to get a montage on and it gets wasted on washing dishes…”

The cowlicked farmer groaned lamentingly at the lameness of this morning’s start. At this point almost preferring he had woken up from a drunken bender over this.

As he worked to rub the sleep from his eyes and get himself reoriented; taking in the kitchen around him. A few seconds later he remembered that he was at the snow-cone shop and the memories of last night soon poured in upon the realization.

Recalling something about Leo's watch, though he had no interest in that, Kazu's attention shifted to Calbert approaching and cornering Olivia (Percy). He was torn between wanting to help her and feeling bitter about the risks involved. Ultimately, he decided to hang back and wait for an opportunity when she or Charlotte were alone.

Sadly, before that could be the case a certain head server had come into the picture. A hastily thrown-together disguise was seen through… who could have thought.” Tch, next time I see that silver-tongued Rat, I’ll be shoving the scrubbing brush down that vile cakehole of his!” Brandishing a scrub brush half his arm’s length, a devious smirk.

The sound of footsteps could be heard drawing towards the kitchen door, where Molly would poke her head in with a nervous.” Hello? If it’s you bleedin raccoons again, I promise to make pelts out of the lot of ya!”

A partially wrinkled hand rising would catch her attention followed by a frantic.” Whoa whoa! Not a coon, not a coon! I'd make for a awful pelt, I assure you!” and with the recognition, her concerned face relaxed. She pushed her way in; lit candle in her hand illuminating and revealing.” Heaven’s bells, hearing all that hollerin as I reached my shop!” Said with indignant annoyance.

Small metallic clangs as Kazu scrambled his way onto his feet; nearly tripping over a few trays while trying to make his way out of the minefield, ending up fumbling forward at the last hop over causing the blonde to stumble, nearly smacking into the table beside her.” Hah...ha ha…sorry about the shouting…and fright and..” Trailing off as some more clanging rang out from another stack of tins falling over.

The clanging sound like a harsh gong reminding him of the mess.” Uh-heh, sorry about all this ma’am…and…Yeeee…I’ll clean that up.” Kazu said, laughing nervously, genuinely feeling bad for causing trouble for Molly.

As he moved to do so, Molly took notice of the state of Kazu’s hand and let out a weary sigh before grabbing him by the shoulder to stop him.” Now enough of that ma’am nonsense and don’t fret about this. I’ll have my boys get this later, you sit.” She demanded forcing him to sit on the nearest stool.

-20 minutes later-

“ There, that should do it.” Smiled Molly proudly as she finished cleaning and bandaging up his hands.” Go on and give us a test, hon.”

Kazu gave her a nervous glance before tentatively flexing his fingers and while there was a slight stinging still, otherwise was fine.” Oh thank butters….they feel so much better!” He exclaimed with a big, relieved sigh.” You’re an angel Molly just like momma Naga and like momma Naga saids, always show yer thanks with expression matching how grateful one is.”

Confusion etched the woman’s pudgy face; when Kazu stood up and without warning hugged the woman.

“A-ah. Well you’re quite the affectionate one. Don’t get boys sweet like you around here much.” Molly said with a smile, the sadness in her eyes saying more.

After letting the hug continue a little longer with a pat to the back, Kazu pulled back with that big stupid grin of his.” A simple fix, I’ll just be sure to visit more and bring my sweetness with me..heck I got plenty to spare for them delicious snocones too.” Joked Kazu, doing the am I pretty face, his eyes fluttering in a silly obnoxious manner.

The woman almost let out a snort as she clapped the table, laughing.” Hah! Appreciate the offer, but I fear any sugar from you may give even the sturdiest customer a sugar overdose.” Giggled the older woman as she moved to sit down with Kazu offering an arm if she needed it.

“ You jest there, Molly, but if you’ve seen the amount of pudding and snacks I’ve eaten…” Pausing as he looked himself over then playfully poked his cheek.” It makes me sometimes wonder if my body isn’t just sugar at this point.” He scratched at his head; pondering whether to try licking his arm or not.

“ Pfft….what a strange fella you are, Kazu. Keep being that sweet boy you are.” Her right hand reaching up to give his cheeks a pinch.” Do try to ease up on that erraticness a tad and the screaming.” Advised Molly, though given with a comforting pat to her hand.” And if you need to rest here for a bit, seeing by the state of your hands you’ve had a long night.”

Her words meant to be comforting, but merely reminded him of the nightmarish sink hell.” Please..I don’t even want to think about soap or anything to do with sinks.” His body shuddered from the horror.

His reaction brought a mixed smile of amusement and pity.” Yes, no more talks of such, sorry dear. I did tell you not to worry about the cleaning.” She frowned, recalling coming across the tired blonde as she had been on her way home. He seemed to have spent some time already having to clean dishes and so didn’t want to make things worse for the lad.

A dismissive wave of a bandaged hand.” Bah! I was just holding up the promise I made. At least here I got to enjoy the shop’s fruity scents instead of having insults spat at me by a rat-faced piece of fuc- crapface.” Biting his tongue, not wanting to speak vulgar around Molly...well anymore than already had this morning.

" What do you intend to do when you leave?” She asked with a curious brow.

Kazu let his body slump against the table with a tired yawn.” Ugh…talk about a loaded question there, er… but none of it got’s nothing to do with ya or this shop so best I don’t talk about it."

Hearing this had Molly frown with worry.” Sounds like you have gotten yourself in some trouble. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it, hun?”

Just seeing the woman concerned over him was enough as he shook his head.” Thanks, but it’s something we're gonna have to work out ourselves and don’t worry, Mol, I got friends to help me…though.” His grin lessened as he recalled Charlotte and Olivia (Percy) leaving him burying his face in his bandaged hands.” Whew…things are pretty rough though, I ain’t gonna lie. Got to thank good old count Calbert for most of it.”

The mention of the count’s name left Molly visibly stiffened and nervous only to realize shortly after tried to relax but found her hands fidgeting a bit.

Her reaction hardly went unnoticed and it was his turn to give her hand a comforting pat.” I won’t bring my problems onto you or this boardwalk.” Giving a reassuring squeeze to her hand as he said this.

His hand pulled away with an air blowing sputtering from his lips.” Guess I should try to find said friends to make sure they’re ok and to meet up later.” Pondering this aloud, when his stomach gave a long drawled out rumble.” Oh damn. Tummy is very not happy….better get food before it starts yodeling and you do not want tummy to yodel...trust me.” Shaking his head with a sharp, small chop motion to get across the seriousness of this.

His mind decided, Kazu spun on the stool and hopped onto his feet and started his way to the backdoor when Molly cleared her throat.” Oh! One moment before you go.”

He skidded to a stop by the door and spun around on his left heel; sweeping up the overcoat he left discarded and gave the coat two flicks then slipped it on after shaking off the wrinkles and undoing his sleeves still hiked up to avoid getting wet.

As he was finishing up, Molly approached offering a freshly made sno-cone.” Ooh! Brekky cone!” Exclaimed Kazu who happily took the offering.

“ This treat should hold you over for a bit. You be careful out there, alright? And if things look like they aren’t looking too good…” Holding off, unsure what to say before continuing.” Know that you and your friends will always be welcomed here.”

Kazu nodded appreciatively and gave her a small side hug.” Thanks Mol, I’ll keep that in mind.” He said while making a hop towards the door and yet again spun on his heels, preparing to add more when he felt something against his left breast side; a quick fumbling had him procure one of the pair of shades he got from the beach and slipped it on.” And no need to fret. The count’s never had to deal with a farmer like me.” Said while folding his arms in an attempt of a cool pose, the sno-cone held like a gun.

He held that pose aiming to pull off the cool departure only for the right lens of his shades to pop out.* Aw yeah, killing it Kazu.* Flashing her that dopey dazzling smile and a finger gun snap, the cowlicked blonde backed his way outside.



Turning suddenly on his heels to then let out an exaggerated sigh akin to a deflating balloon as most of the spunky energy he forced melted away much like the sno-cone dripping down his fingers. Using his free hand to rub at his forehead, thinking back to his friends and the trouble or stress they could be in.

At least he was freed of the strain of keeping face and the partially gloomy weather felt almost appropriately fitting with his current mood.

But he got a nice view of the beach and a sno-cone, plus the sight of seeing the few people enjoying themselves fishing, surfing and the like.

Allowing himself a moment to take in the scenery and inhale the salty air and with it came clarity.* No point fussing over things you can’t do anything about right now.* And with that thought in mind, Kazu felt his mood improving; for now finding Percy *grumble grumble* or something to fill his belly would do.

.* RUMBLE RUMBLE* Make that post-haste. The rumbling in his stomach would be made worse by a strong waft of delicious scents coming from somewhere not too far from the beach, a single whiff left Kazu drooling like a waterfall.” Settle down you gluttonous behemoth. Here, I got just what tummy needs.” Rubbing at his belly he slowly and delicately brushed his tongue along the icy treat wanting to savor the first lick.

As he began walking along the deck,A pop of syrupy fruity goodness struck him, spurring him to take another lick then another. Then as his foot stepped down, the world around him gradually turned into a sugary treat wonderland spreading from his foot.

A sugary rush flooded his body as he continued, his walking transitioned to light hops as he began humming, losing himself to the sugary magic taking hold.

Oh, that sweet-sweet taste, can't escape

Just lick and crunch
It's a sugar spin
A rainbow bite
That grin's a win
Flavor buzz
Every drip, every drop (yeah, yeah)
Got that pop, make it rock
Gimme swirls, gimme twirls
In this candy-coated world
[Hook]
We go lick, we go crunch
Every color, every punch
Sweeter than a hunch
This melody we munch
Melting beat, feel the rush
In this sugar we trust
Gimme sticks, gimme cones
Every burst, all the tones
Sugar high, not alone
This vibe's heavy, like stone
Flashes bright, neons gleam
Taste the rainbow, supreme
Every lick, a new scene
In this candy, we dream

Cr-

A furry image suddenly came into view causing Kazu to freeze mid hop, the candy world dissipated around him. Instead, he was looking at a wolf casually lounging outside some kind of cafe.

The Blossom Cafe, the source of the smell that the cowlicked farmer had unconsciously found himself led. The trip spent with him humming and dancing to his own tune and his tasty treat gone with only the blue and red stain around his mouth left.” Ooh-ooh! a wolf! Dont think this is one of those Alidasht pets…seeing as it’s not currently flirting with anything that walks or complaining.” He said snickering.

He wanted to pet the wolf, of course but refrained from doing so.” Only for the time being..just wait, I’ll bring somet-” Hands slipping into his pockets as he spoke, where he would find…nothing.” I...don’t know why I expected anything different.” There went any chance of dining in such a fancy establishment.

“ I don’t, however need money for a bathroom trip.” Kazu said, scheming with a rub of his chin.* Just pop in and state you’re using the loo, make distractions and once distracted I’ll grab a steak or whatever meat they got..* Pausing his thoughts as he looked back at the wolf during mid-think.* Make that three.* He needed a light snack after-all or the cafe could find themselves with two hungry beasts.

Before Kazu could make his way inside, had caught sight of his reflection.” Yeesh, I look a dirty bum.”

Stepping to the side of the building where Kazu spent the next couple minutes using the bits of sprinkling rain to wash off his face and hair.

Returning to outside the entrance, a satisfied sigh as he came to a stop besides the wolf yet again.” Ta-da! Now I'm a clean bum! Get that soft fur ready, my new soon-to-be canine pal, give me fifteen minutes.” Pausing to slip the one len shades back over his eyes.” when I step out, we be feastin." Nodding with a thumbs up to the wolf, doing all this whether the canine acknowledged him or not.

“ You’re probably wondering how some cowlicked scrub could pull it off. Simple… Confidence!” A rumble came from his stomach as if in agreement with this plan (any plan that got it food would work at this point). Kazu gave an excited snap of his fingers as he flicked the overcoat he removed to be draped over his left shoulder, the first step of his plans.

A whistling merry tune as he strolled his way in with a vibrant confidant stride, giving off the cocky importance with a bit of rich brat attitude mixed in.
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Time: Morning
Location: Munir's Room
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Mina listened to Munir's heartfelt words, feeling a wave of relief wash over her as she heard the sincerity in his voice. His apology eased some of the tension that had been building within her, and she found herself slowly beginning to relax.

As he spoke of his privileged upbringing and his realization of the commitment required in a relationship, Mina couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his honesty. She appreciated his willingness to acknowledge just how serious of a commitment he was asking for.

"Thank you, Munir," she said softly, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I appreciate your honesty, and I understand that this is new territory for both of us."

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "But you need to know that I will challenge you, just as you will challenge me," she said firmly, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination and a small smirk. "I have a voice of my own, and I won't be swayed by coin or pretty gifts. Our relationship will be built on trust, respect, and mutual understanding. I'm not always going to give you you're way."

Mina took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to reveal. "With that all said, there's something else you need to know about me and my family, Munir," she began, her voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "It's not an easy thing to talk about, but you deserve to know."

She hesitated for a moment, gathering her courage before continuing. "Because of what I deal with and what the women of my family before me dealt with, we don't often live long," she explained, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “The constant sight of the dead, the voices, the torture from some of the ghosts…well it eventually drives us mad…” She took a shakey breath, knowing the next bit was going to be hard to talk about. ”My great aunt was locked up by her husband who was frightened of her madness…and she ended up throwing herself out a window and off a cliff side…my mother was ostracized from society, partially from have a child out of wedlock, and she ended up hanging herself because everything became too much when I was a small child…I have no idea what my fate will be…”

Mina searched Munir's face, hoping to see understanding and acceptance in his eyes. She knew that revealing this part of herself was a risk, but she couldn't keep it hidden from him. She needed Munir to know the truth, no matter how difficult it may be. ”I've been researching more into the condition and how to prevent things, but it's dangerous research as it has to do a lot with magic. That, in itself, can lead me to my pyre if the wrong people find out about it. Especially since in my research I've also discovered I'm a natural born witch...” If she was damning herself, she may as well go all in.
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Wulfric & Torvi

FLASHBACK: The 23rd of Sola, morning. After the Tea Party.



If Wulfric’s office was a haven of papers, it was still a mere fragment compared to the hub of information and activity contained in a meeting room on the second floor. The room was filled with smaller tables, several cork board stands, filing cabinets and bookshelves – and people.

One group was dedicated to compiling information on Black Rose and its mercantile activities; if there were any inconsistent or suspect monetary transactions, they would be found. This group worked heavily in cooperation with the Merchant Guild and other governmental and business personnel. Another group was focused on uncovering and empowering any local rivals to Marek, if only so as to hassle him. The annoying thing was, with how Black Rose had flourished, the company and Marek himself had some clear support among the nobility – even royalty. That was something he’d have to look into, especially with Edin and Alibeth.

There were a few other groups, for planning, intelligence, analysis, and security. Obviously, only key individuals with information to share would come here in the first place. Still, it made for a populated room, and plenty of scurrying to and fro. It was a set-up convenient for the prince, perhaps less so for everyone else.

At present, Wulfric was conversing with one of the knights who had accompanied the queen when she’d gone to fetch the missing nobles from the party. That night, even though it had been shortly after the party had apparently ended, nothing had been found at the warehouse.

The people he’d assigned to follow Anastasia when she’d tried visiting her ‘friend’ had barely anything to report. A mysterious ‘someone’ had visited, a person whose height and build could be a match for Calbert Damien. Though, his sister had been the only one brave enough to speculate on the stranger’s identity. The man’s visit coincided with an increase in security at Marek’s, so clearly, something of importance had gone down.

“And that is all that our men have uncovered since?” Wulfric sought to confirm.

“Yes, Your Highness. Other than the warehouse area being heavily guarded, there was no evidence. He had too many guards at the office to have anyone infiltrate it secretly.”

“Well, then it is high time we commence an overt operation. Have a team search this warehouse again,” his finger nearly stabbed into a point on the map which was spread out on the table. “As incredulous as it seems, be on the lookout for a basement.”

The captain nodded, and the prince continued. “Here are the known facilities which Black Rose has rented within the city,” he traced the warehouses in question. “Have them searched too. Be courteous to the neighbouring tenants, and see if they have recently noted any unusual activity. If they ask the purpose of this action, simply say there has been evidence pointing to potential drug trade.”

More nods followed, and though the captain appeared mystified, he did not ask.

Good.

“Finally, you will thoroughly investigate this location,” he pointed at Delronzo’s office building. This was the place Anastasia had gone to, and which he’d had a few agents observe from afar since that night.

He wanted to do something about the damnable man sooner rather than later. An open search, if nothing else, might pressure Delronzo. But would it provoke him into action, reckless or otherwise?

He was curious to find out.

Once the prince had given out the necessary orders, he paced across the meeting room, absorbing the information provided. Though he’d dismissed those he no longer needed, a number of his subordinates still remained. They worked on their assigned tasks, the chatter between them low in volume, and restricted to the necessary exchange of information.

The quietly intense, well-organized proceedings were interrupted by loud voices emerging from the adjacent hallway. These would be the guards trying to keep someone away from where they shouldn’t be – because of course, he had stationed sentinels outside for this very purpose. He trusted they would handle the matter.

Yet, the bickering continued. And was that a growl?

Annoyance overtook him, so Wulfric strode out of the room with purpose, and glared icy daggers in the direction of the commotion.

“Just what is going on here?” More so than a question, it was a statement demanding answers. His tone was just as frigid as his stare, and for a moment, he merely stood there, taking in the woman and her wolf.

She was a tall, fit, and evidently well-trained woman, likely hailing from Varian. He did not know her face, however. The animal standing by her side was a magnificent specimen, but this was hardly the occasion to admire it. The strangers were square in the middle of the hall, as if they had all right to be there.

“Why are these trespassers wandering so freely?” He inquired softly, but with a near-hissing undertone; an evident sign of danger. Reflecting the light emerging from the hallway’s windows, his irises were as clear and light as glaciers – and just as chilling.

His posture was entirely regal, and there was nary a twitch in the direction of his sheathed weapons. Yet there was something about him which, to the trained eye, was ready to strike.

The prince had no awareness of this whatsoever, but to the woman and the wolf, he appeared very much akin to a wild beast whose territory had been intruded upon.

He might as well have asked, ‘Why have they not been cut down yet’, by the way he was looking at the pair.

One of the guards bowed in his direction with a respectful, “Your Highness.” Smartly, the other watchmen kept a wary eye on the two unknowns. “She claims to be Her Majesty’s servant.”

“Oh?” Wulfric questioned, tone still softly dangerous. This time, he was clearly asking the woman rather than the guards. Throughout, his gaze had been aggressively affixed onto the woman.

Torvi had taken leave of the queen's presence, her mind abuzz with thoughts of the impending mission. She decided to explore the castle, familiarize herself with the layout of this foreign environment. As she wandered through the corridors, Fenrys paced gracefully at her side, his presence commanding respect and caution. It was surprising how silent the larger animal was, even causing some who didn’t hear them coming to shout out in surprise. Every time this happened, Torvi couldn’t help but laugh a little before softly saying something to Fenrys in an unfamiliar language to most around her.

Unbeknownst to her, they had ventured into a part of the castle that was off-limits to most. The commotion in the hallway caught her attention, and she turned her gaze toward the escalating voices and the unmistakable scent of tension in the air. It was then that she realized she was the cause for the commotion, glances of alarm and some fear landing on her as she slowly came to a stop.

Two guards, clearly agitated by her presence, made an attempt to halt her progress, reaching out to grab her arm. Before they could make contact, Fenrys growled menacingly, a warning that froze them in their tracks. His golden eyes bore into theirs, daring them to make another move.

It was at this tense moment that a figure emerged from the room, and Torvi's sharp eyes locked onto him. He was a commanding presence, his aura radiating authority. His piercing, glacier-blue eyes met hers, and she felt a shiver of recognition.

His question, delivered with a chilling undertone, hung in the air, and Torvi couldn't help but grin a little mischievously. She was well aware of the trouble she had inadvertently stirred, but there was something about his demeanor that intrigued her. She held his gaze, her striking golden eyes showing no fear. It wasn’t defiance; it was a warrior’s recognition of another warrior.

"Apologies for the disruption," she began, her tone respectful but not submissive. "I am Torvi Jorviksdottir, a serfant of Her Majesty, the queen." She inclined her head in a sign of acknowledgment.

Torvi couldn't help but notice the similarities in scent between this man and Queen Alibeth. It was a faint connection, but it piqued her curiosity. She had overheard the servant's address and put two and two together. "Highness," she echoed softly, a glint of understanding in her eyes.

For a moment, she weighed her words carefully, her wolf still poised and watchful by her side. "I meant no offense, Highness. I was merely exploring the castle, getting to know my surroundings. If my presence here is unwelcome, I shall depart immediately."

Her tone held a hint of challenge, but her posture remained respectful. Torvi was not one to back down easily, and the presence of this prince, whom she assumed was one of the rulers of this land, only fueled her determination to assert herself in this unfamiliar territory.

As Wulfric studied the woman, it became clear she was confident she belonged here. She confirmed she was a servant, but there was nothing servile about her demeanour. That could be a sign of competence as well as it could be of arrogance. While respectful, she seemed to want to stand above most others.

“Daughter of Jorvik,” he stated. He was familiar with the naming convention; some people in the far north used it. “You must be very new here indeed.” There was a slight yet firm rebuke in his tone as he raised a brow at her, subtly looking her down. “Even if you have just arrived,” he guessed she must have, “is the notion that you cannot simply traipse around another’s property as you please beyond you?”

“Besides,” he gave the wolf another brief look, then turned back to Torvi, lips pursed, “to bring in some animal?” As much as he would enjoy seeing it in its element out in the wild, he was still quite reserved about the prospect of beasts like it muddying up their castle. “That is a privilege we have recently permitted only to members of the Alidasth royalty. Whom you are very much not a part of,” he drawled.

Admittedly, he was curious why this woman had been hired. With a sharp glint in his eye, he decided to question her. “You did not care to mention, but what is your role, exactly? A glorified guard…?” Surely, it was not just that.

While the prince was no longer as aggravated, he was still dubious of this woman’s presence. It was unlikely that she had gained access into the castle without a proper invitation, but even so, he’d prefer to have confirmation of her identity. And if she was what she claimed to be, she ought to learn that she wasn’t all so special as she appeared to believe.

Torvi met the prince's gaze with a steady one of her own, her confidence unwavering. His rebuke didn't faze her; she was used to navigating situations where her presence was questioned. His words were sharp, but she could sense his curiosity beneath the surface.

"Indeed, Daughter of Jarl Jorvik," she echoed, acknowledging her lineage with a hint of pride. She inclined her head slightly at his remark about her being new, not offering any excuses for her presence in the castle.

"I am well awfare of the notion, Highness," she replied calmly. "I assure you, I did not traipse around as I pleased. I was merely exploring my new home, as any newcomar might."

His comment about Fenrys being an animal caused her to chuckle, and she directed her gaze to the magnificent dire wolf. She raised a hand to stroke Fenrys's fur gently, her fingers brushing over the thick silver-gray coat.

"Fenrys is no mere animal," she stated with a touch of amusement. "I suggest you look into his eyes again, Highness. You might find something intaresting there. He understands more than you may think." Indeed, if he were to look at Fenrys who was now staring at him, he would see a deeper intelligence there than one should find in an animal. It was as if the wolf understood every word that was being spoken and he had his own thoughts on everything that was happening. In fact, if one looked close enough, they might even say the wolf was now smirking at the prince.

Torvi's words were measured, her tone respectful but firm. She didn't intend to back down or let the prince dismiss Fenrys as a simple beast. She believed in the unique bond between her and the dire wolf, one that went beyond the ordinary.

As he continued to question her role, she maintained her composed demeanor. She couldn't help but appreciate his curiosity; it hinted at a certain level of intelligence and perceptiveness.

"Of sorts." she replied with a faint grin. "Her Majesty, Queen Alibeth, deemed the current circumstances to be...unique. She had concerns that her children's ordinary guards might not be quite equipped to protect them from certain threats that hafe arisen."

Her words were carefully chosen, meant to convey the gravity of the situation without revealing too much. Torvi respected the queen's discretion and understood the need for secrecy in such matters.

“Exploring?” he scoffed, only mildly irritated. He did realize that she had made a genuine mistake when she’d entered this restricted area. Also, though he by no means intended to admit it, a part of him was entertained by her words. She was opposing his uncharitable interpretation of her actions, and trying to put a positive spin on what she’d been doing.

But he didn’t agree with the justification, so he shook his head once. “The entirety of this castle is not your home. There will always be areas where you will not be permitted, or which you will require clearance for. As a newcomer, it would behoove you to find a guide to accompany you.” The suggestion for an escort was just that; a suggestion. He did not intend to enforce it, as Torvi struck him as clever enough not to land herself in too much trouble even without a guide.

“I have set these guards here for a reason,” he asserted, lightly chastising her. Either she had not noticed them, or hadn’t realized that as an unknown face, her presence would warrant their caution.

“Whether you consider it a matter of awareness or of cultural differences, I expect you will soon learn our standards, and abide by them.” He stared at her seriously. She needed to know that even if she was a direct servant to the queen, she was, after all, still a servant. Even if she met employees of a lower rank, she would have to consider that they too, had orders from someone above her station.

As the conversation turned to her animal companion, Torvi once again showed immense confidence in the being. Wulfric issued a thoughtful hum. “Well, pet owners do always claim that their beasts are special,” he began dryly, but humoured her, and took another look at the wolf.

This animal…

It might be his imagination, but there did seem to be something there. All he said out loud, however, was, “I suppose he is very well trained.” He met Torvi’s eyes then. “So be it. Feel free to have him accompany you. Just be aware that my father has a profound hatred of beasts being indoors, and my mother isn’t particularly fond of them either.”

As soon as the woman mentioned ‘unique’ circumstances, his gaze sharpened. He respected the secretiveness - it would serve her well. He nodded once curtly. “Accompany me,” he ordered.

He led her to a small drawing room down the hallway. It was empty, and once he ascertained their privacy, he turned to her once again. “This threat you are referring to…Is it magic?” He suddenly asked, surprisingly blunt. However, based on what she’d said, and knowing Alibeth, there was little else she could have meant.

Torvi met Wulfric's stern gaze with a calm resolve, acknowledging the boundaries he delineated without conceding any hint of submission. She understood the importance of rules and protocols, even if she didn't necessarily appreciate them. It wasn't the first time she had found herself navigating unfamiliar territories, and she had a knack for adapting quickly. His comment about pet owners drew a brief smile from her, but she didn't engage further. Instead, she followed him as he led the way to a private room.

She took a moment to assess the surroundings before turning her attention back to Wulfric, meeting his gaze with a steady one of her own. The prince's directness didn't catch her off guard; she had expected him to get to the point as he’d already proved to be one that didn’t tiptoe around things.

"It is…refreshing to speak to someone so sharp. Yes, I speak of magic." She confirmed, her voice low and confident as she grinned at him. She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully before continuing.

"It seems the influence of sorcery and the supernatural is growing within Caesonia. Queen Alibeth beliefes it poses a significant threat not only to the royal family but to the entire kingdom."

Her words were chosen carefully, conveying the gravity of the situation without revealing the intricate details that were best kept secret. "I am highly skilled in…sniffing out magic users and the supernatural, if you will. Finding and keeping balance with these things has been my whole life."

Her tone was matter-of-fact, and her eyes conveyed a quiet determination. Torvi was confident in her abilities, honed through years of training and experience. She understood the gravity of the situation and the importance of her role in this mission.

She didn't elaborate further, leaving it at that, respecting the need for discretion in discussing matters related to magic. Her focus remained on the task at hand, ready to assist in any way she could to uncover the source of the magical disturbances within Caesonia.

The prince returned Torvi’s look calmly even as he assessed the proud woman. Not exactly one for bending or blind obedience, though that was just fine. She also appeared secure in her experience. If she could be relied on, that would be excellent. The warrior did have her quirks, and seemed unused to high-society. Yet, she was adaptable, so overall, he was looking forward to seeing her in action.

“Refreshing?” he raised a brow. “I do hope you aren’t trying to insinuate that my mother is dull.” However, his mild tone indicated that he didn’t believe she’d been trying to insult the queen, whom she’d spoken to most recently. It was merely a warning for her to be careful with how she phrased things.

He nodded at her explanation, and followed up with several questions. “Are you saying magic users can be detected reliably by mundane means? Or are you a practitioner yourself?” His neutral manner of asking assured that he wouldn’t judge either way. The next question, however, was more prodding. “What exactly do you mean by ‘balance’, and how would you ensure it?” He wasn’t sure if she meant that she specialized in eradicating witches, or else that she strived to prevent what she interpreted as ill-use of magic.

“Are you the only one who has been hired? I would prefer a team to deal with the numerous strange incidents which have cropped up,” he confessed. He didn’t truly doubt her skills as an individual, but relying only on one person to handle all magical occurrences would be poor management.

“What assignment has the queen given you?” he then queried. “I assure you - she would be perfectly fine with me knowing, and is sure to brief me when we next meet. However, our respective work does keep us busy, and I would appreciate the information sooner rather than later,” he explained. “It also so happens that I am pursuing a target who has surely employed magic - of the memory erasing type. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has given you a smaller scale mission first, however.” Certainly, if it were him, he would first test her with something else.

Torvi met Wulfric's gaze evenly, undeterred by his probing questions. She understood the necessity of caution when discussing matters of magic, especially within the royal court. His comment about his mother drew a small chuckle from her and she simply smirked at him as she replied with, “Of course not, Your Highness.”

As Wulfric delved into his inquiries, Torvi remained composed, answering each question with careful consideration.

“I am not necessarily a practitioner myself,” she explained. “But I hafe been trained to recognize the subtle signs of magic use, both through obserfation and certain… techniques. I hafe equipment that some may find…questionable, but I do not cast magic myself.” She didn't elaborate on the specifics any more than that, maintaining an air of mystery around her methods.

“By ‘balance,’ I mean ensuring that the use of magic does not disrupt the natural order of things,” she continued. “It is about maintaining harmony between the mundane and the supernatural, preventing any misuse or exploitation of magical energies. Often that requires…eliminating the target that is deemed dangerous.”

Torvi paused for a moment, considering his next question about her role within the investigation.

“As far as I am aware, currently I am the only one Queen Alibeth has hired directly for this task,” she admitted. “Howefer, I am prepared to collaborate with others if necessary. Teamwork can often yield better results in such matters, though I do usually like to work alone.”

As for her assignment, Torvi chose her words carefully, mindful of the need for discretion.

“The queen has tasked me with infestigating seferal incidents of magical disturbances that hafe been reported across Caesonia,” she replied. “My initial focus will be on gathering information and identifying potential sources of these disturbances while acting under the guise of you and your siblings' new protector.”

She paused, meeting Wulfric's gaze with a steady one of her own.

“This is all I am willing to say on the matter,” she said with a look that said that was final. “However, if you require my assistance in any way, you need only ask.”

Torvi's tone was resolute, her commitment to her task unwavering as she prepared to face the challenges ahead.

Wulfric listened carefully to the woman’s words as she spoke. He was fairly certain she was being politically correct (or simply cautious) and did not wish to indicate that she was using magic of some sort. “In the end, whether your techniques and equipment are supernatural in nature or not doesn’t matter per se - as long as you remain mindful of this ‘balance’, and as long as you provide sufficient results, of course.” He was basically giving his implicit approval and permission for her to rely on supernatural means if she thought she had to. He doubted she needed him saying so, but it might encourage her to gradually become more open when discussing her expertise.

It was unfortunate that he couldn’t use her as a magical consultant. But even just having a single person who was knowledgeable about the supernatural was a boon. “Well, if you are ever ready to share your tips and tricks…” he invited with a smirk. He did not expect her to do so at the moment, so he continued the conversation after a brief pause. “There have indeed been several incidents,” he nodded. “As a matter of fact, I have just talked to Lady Violet, who exhibited severe changes in her appearance, behavior, and her motor and cognitive skills. Hey eyes are now crimson, and she was thought dead a few days ago,” he summarized. “I would be curious to hear your professional opinion regarding her, so pay attention if she is ever in your vicinity.”

As for the other incidents… “There have been reports of strange, potentially magical occurrences at the circus. Then there is that whole after-party debacle which had happened a few days ago. Marek Delronzo, the owner of Black Rose, is suspected to have erased his guests’ memory of the party. My younger siblings - Callum and Anastasia - consider him a friend, however. I would not want them endangered because of their trust in the wrong man,” he concluded. Though he was unsure of her loyalty, Wulfric wanted to extend Torvi at least the basic amount of trust. She couldn’t do her job without the necessary intel, and he was curious how she’d handle it. Certainly, her conduct so far had impressed him, as she had firmly refused to divulge the particulars of the queen’s orders.

With that, the two concluded their introductory meeting. As they had discussed all there was to, they each went on to attend to their respective duties.
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"I love being challenged. And as my lady, you would always have an audience with me and you can bet that I will always be your staunchest ally. Trust, respect and understanding is the basis of all good relationships, so that much is a given." Munir replied to Mina, his voice soft, but very certain.

As Mina began speaking on a much heavier topic, Munir subconsciously picked up her hands and started gently stroking the pad of her palms with his thumbs. In truth, he hadn't realized that his hands moved on their own and he was doing what he was doing. He listened to Mina's word's intently, fighting the urge to interrupt her. He can sense her unease, given the uncertain nature of the things in which she speaks.

When Mina finished speaking, Munir drew in a deep breath, his brain finally catching up with what his hands had been doing this whole time. With an exhale that was as deep as the breath he drew, he considered his next words carefully. "The only pyre that will be lit would be the one in celebration of our union. I know my protection is not what you seek. But I will commit myself wholly to that cause. I will let no harm come to you. I know we had previously spoken on the hardships that may come our way, but those trials and tribulations are not what I speak of now." Munir took a brief pause, reassuring Mina with his gaze. "The harm and trials I speak of now are from those that would rather see you be prosecuted than to take the time to understand and get to you know. Those people have no purpose in our lives. I am truly sorry to hear about the fate of the women in your family, especially your mother. That must have been so tough for you and your loved ones. However. I am determined to not let it come to that for you. The fate that I see for you, Mina Blackwood, is one shared with me. And our many children. Some growing up in the sunny sands of Alidasht. Others in the pine forests of Kolonivka. You will be there to teach our children right from wrong. And I will be there getting in to trouble along side them" Munir took another pause, this time with a sly smile because he knows what he said to be true.

Munir then scooted himself closer to Mina, hands still holding hers. "This research. You must show me. If there is anything I or House Kadir of Alidasht can help with, do not hesitate to let me know. I'm sure my myriad of sisters, brother and dear cousin Farim would love to have you on their side when the bullying starts..." Yes. The topic of conversation is serious and heavy. But Munir is who he is. He is not making light of the situation. This is just his personality and to have to force himself to behave differently would be akin to lying.

Leaning in, Munir used his body in such a way that Mina would have to lean herself back against the feather pillows and tufted headboard of his bed. "A nature born witch huh. That explains why I've fallen so deeply in love you with. You've cast a love spell on my, Mina Blackwood. One that I cannot break or shake. This is your doing. You've bound us, in perpetuity. And I'm going to seal that bond with a kiss now. Thats what happens in fairy tales, right? The prince finds his princess, and he seals their happily ever after with a kiss..." Munir leaned in, eyes closed and waited for Mina to join him in his fairy tale and their happily ever after.
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