Hidden 4 mos ago Post by SilverPaw
Raw
Avatar of SilverPaw

SilverPaw

Member Seen 3 hrs ago






Attire: A toga (over a tunic) and sandals
Date and Time: Sola 24th, Morning, following his chat with Edin
Location: His office
Mention(s):
Interaction(s):
After their discussion at The Royal Curd, father and son had left for the castle. They separated shortly after entering the fortress, and Wulfric retreated into his office. As soon as he closed the door behind himself, the dam on his underlying raging abhorrence finally cracked. He felt his expression morph into a grimace of loathing, facial muscles straining from the intensity. His body literally shook with outrage as his breathing sped up. If he’d been alone on a cliffside somewhere, he might have screamed his throat sore.

Instead, he channeled that frustration into a power walk to his bureau, where he slammed his fists onto the solid wooden surface. Everywhere he looked – the desk, the coffee table, the couches, the cork pinboard – documents on the Black Rose still littered the room. Each and every single one was a bitter reminder of the reality of the situation.

As if beckoned by his negative emotions, fragments of past memories emerged.

He had been a child, 8 years of age. He was interested in all sorts of puzzles back then, and was keen on mysteries, adventure, and exploration. One thing had led to another, and he had found a way to break into his father’s office. He was rummaging around, not looking for anything in particular, when the guards he’d previously distracted finally noticed something amiss and informed Edin.

His father was enraged, but his younger self hadn’t thought it was a big deal. He’d proudly told his father how he’d snuck in, had even said something along the lines of ‘Wasn’t that clever of me?’ He had expected to be praised for his feat. What he received was a stinging slap to the cheek. His father was shouting things, awful, mean things. Told him he needed to be punished. Next thing he knew, his hands were being switched bloody.


I haven’t raised a criminal! was a sentence he could still clearly recall from then.

That had been the first significant fracture in the trust and admiration he’d held for his father. Several years later came the final shattering, when even the few remaining speck-sized kernels of positive regard had been completely annihilated.

I will not stand for this– this corruption!

He couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. Though, to call that which bubbled forth from his lips a laugh was as faithful as likening muck to clear spring water. It went on and on, turning into wheezing, choking half-gasps. He had to stop when the contractions caused a physical strain in his ribs and chest. Finally, the last few coughs escaped.

“H-hah!”

After the king had executed the one person he shouldn’t have, Wulfric had been fully intent on killing him as soon as he came of age. He’d been stopped by his mentor, though, and had been shipped off to Alidasht for a year.

“Damn you,” he cursed, and took to pacing his office. He had long since realized his old teacher had done what he had primarily out of a concern for him. Regardless of the hows or whys, it had ultimately been his own decision not to act. To wait for the legitimate transferal of royal power from father to son.

One of his main concerns had been what removing the stabilizing force of an established ruler – however shoddy of a ruler he was – would do to the kingdom. When he had expressed his wish to see Edin dead to Alibeth and Auguste, their worry, too, was balance.

It was exactly what his father had said about Marek Delronzo.

The Black Rose has been a significant force in maintaining the balance of power within our kingdom.

“Balance?” he hissed under his breath as he paced across his office. “A balance of crime, corruption, evil,” he spat. He didn’t use the word ‘evil’ lightly; few things were so absolute, so black-and-white. But this? A pretense of keeping order while a crime syndicate was running rampant throughout the country and beyond? Allying with Marek’s ilk so they could ‘help’ keep in check certain elements, as his father had put it? As far as he could see, what the Black Rose kept in check was the whole damn kingdom!

“No.” This one thing, he would never do. Ally with Black Rose? Support and profit from organized crime?

Watch and stand by as such atrocities were committed? “Not anymore,” he promised quietly.

Doing otherwise will significantly endanger… the very throne you sit on.

He scoffed as he recalled those words. The throne? He sneered. “What an utterly worthless thing, if it can’t protect our people,” he seethed.

No. It was high time to do away with such a treacherous influence. Still…his father did possess valuable information.

It curdled his stomach, it ignited the blood in his veins, it permeated bitterness throughout his mouth, but he had too many questions left to dispose of Edin outright. He needed to know how this state of affairs had come to be. Who had first tied in their family with the criminal underworld? Edin himself or a predecessor? Why? To oppose mages? To control the populace through fear?

And what did Delronzo have on them? Did Edin have anything on the man at all, or was he merely Marek’s king-puppet? It would be useful if he managed to find a way to turn the two against each other.

First, he had to at least explore that option. But if it seemed like trying to get through to Edin would yield no results in a reasonable time, then soon–!

If only he had a justification which would be easily accepted by the public–

He stopped mid-step when he was hit by an idea as swift and powerful as a strike of lightning.

If you actually care, find out for yourself. And when you do, swear to me you’d publicly reveal what your family has done in order to stay in power. Every last one.

“That,” he realized with sudden zeal, pacing some more. “What a brilliant stratagem that could make for,” he marveled.

There were so many things he had to do, now.

Strengthen existing alliances, consolidate his base of power, extend his reach where it was weak or nonexistent…Find out who Marek’s allies were, convert those who could be, and eliminate those who refused to change their ways.

Most importantly, he had to act.
6x Like Like
Hidden 4 mos ago Post by Helo
Raw
Avatar of Helo

Helo Wonderlust King

Member Seen 1 day ago



4x Like Like 1x Thank Thank
Hidden 4 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago

Count Landon Monet, Prince Wulfric Danrose, Lord Leo Smithwood, Count Fritz “Ryn” Hendrix, Lord Drake Edwards


Part 2


Drake took his seat, smiling pleasantly to those present. “Very well. But someone else must shuffle. That is only standard rules of fairness, right?” He playfully suggested.

Smirking, Wulfric extended a hand towards Count Hendrix, palm open and facing upwards, pointer finger beckoning in a ‘come hither’ motion. “Do pass them over,” he said, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. Fritz easily obliged, and Wulfric quickly if thoroughly inspected the cards. There was no tempering, and so he shuffled them. “Do you wish to cut, or to reshuffle?” He offered to Count Monet, since he was the host.

“Yes. Let me reshuffle.” Landon said hastily and took the cards with an eagerness that reached his eyes. He began to shuffle them as a male waiter began to place numerous alcoholic drinks alongside a few non-alcoholic options on the surface of the table. Then, he distributed five cards to all. “I’ll go first. Then, around the table: Lord Leo, Count Fritz, Lord Edwards, then Prince Wulfric.” He gazed upon his cards for a moment before asking, “'Ave any nines, Lord Leo?”

Briefly Leo took a look at his cards, rearranging them in his hand while wearing an empty expression. “Go fish.” He replied to Landon. “And good to see you, Drake, got any eights?”

Drake, feigning a look of shock, reached for his cards and grabbed an 8 of spades. Between his two fingers he handed the card over to Leo with a grin. “I only just sat down and I am already being cleaned out of all my cards! Good to see you and your…pink self?” He both stated his thoughts and semi-transparently asked what the heck Leo got into that would cause such a thing. Then his gaze looked elsewhere, and he decided to look at Fritz. “Good sir. May you have any 3s by chance?”

When Lord Edwards asked for a card, Ryn’s gaze flickered to Lord Monet, gauging his reaction, before moving down to his cards. This time, it was Ryn who feigned shock. “Lord Edwards!” he exclaimed, “You’re one to talk, sir!” Then, with a smile, gave him a three of spades. “Oh yes,” he continued, “you missed the earlier invitation. Lord Smithwood and I—and quite possibly His Highness—have plans for the spa later this evening. Would you like to join us, Lord Edwards?” He turned to the final player at their table. “Your Highness, do you have any 7s?”

“None, go fish,” Wulfric replied curtly. He’d not even glanced at his cards, having memorized them. After Count Hendrix, it was his turn. “Count Landon, any fives?”

Count Landon smirked, his confidence evident. “Do I ‘ave any fives?” he echoed, a haughty tone creeping into his voice. “Not a single one, Prince Wulfric. Looks like you’ll ‘ave to ‘Go Fish.’”
Landon leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. “Better luck next time,” he added, clearly enjoying the moment as he picked up a shot glass and downed its contents. “’Ow about you give me zose sevens, Fritz?”

Count Monet said it with such confidence, Ryn felt bad to disappoint him. “I apologize, Count Monet, but I’m afraid you’ll have to ‘Go Fish’ this time around.”

Landon groaned louder than necessary and whirled on Ryn. “Huh! But you asked for sevens! Why ask for cards you do not need?” he complained.

“To trick someone into revealing which cards they want without risk to himself?” the prince arched an eyebrow, mildly suggesting what seemed obvious. “It strikes me as a valid strategy, and within the rules you’ve delineated. It may prolong the game but as long as we aren’t brought to a standstill, is it not fine?”

“ Whatever. I guess.” Landon grumbled.

“If it would set your mind at ease, I can show my hand to you or another player for confirmation. If I do, I hope it is within reason to request that whoever views my cards refrains from asking for them in subsequent turns.”

“…I don’t need to see them.”

“We’ve learned something about Count Fritz, he plays to win. Got an ace in that hand, Hendrix?” Leo asked. He noted but didn’t speak it aloud, that they’d also learned Count Monet held a distaste for deception, even in a low-stakes card game.

“Go Fish.”

As the game progressed, Landon grew increasingly aggressive and competitive, his demeanor fueled by the alcohol he consumed. Ultimately, Lord Leo Smithwood emerged victorious. “Cheater.” Landon muttered at Leo, disguising his comment with a cough.

On the other hand, Wulfric had been playing patiently and calmly. When the winner was proclaimed, he turned to Leo with a challenging smile. “Well done for this round. I hope you’ve thought of an exciting reward?”

With the conclusion of the game, Drake sighed as he placed his hand of two cards on the table. Revealing a pair of Queens. “Ah rats! It seems we have been bested gents!” He chuckled. “So what is this I hear about a spa day between gentlemen? Can’t say I’ve ever partsken but I would not be opposed. Can you share more, Count Fritz?” To which the count happily filled in the details.

Leo grabbed a shot glass from the table and downed it as he thought about a question to ask the group. “Share your strangest experience. Mine’s likely obvious; memory loss followed by having a chipmunk voice, and then turning pink.” He posed his question to the table, hoping to uncover more strange occurrences in Sorian. Maybe something useful, or even something to feel like he wasn’t alone in experiencing weirdness in Sorian.

Ryn paused, considering the question. The peculiar and uncanny were such constants in his life that singling out one instance proved challenging. He wondered: does the strange remain strange when it becomes routine?

He canted his head, first left, then right, a soft hum escaping him. “Just the other day,” Ryn began, “I visited a charming café and ordered their daily special: a steaming pot of tea with five cookies. But when my order arrived, there were seven cookies on the plate.”

Ryn smiled. “A delightful surprise, one might think. But then, that very same evening, while dining at a restaurant, I requested a scoop of vanilla ice cream to cap off my meal. To my surprise, it came with two additional cookies not listed on the menu.” The count’s expression turned grave, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. “Stranger yet…” He leaned forward. “The extra cookies were all snickerdoodles.”

Leo followed the shot with a long drink of beer, using it to hide the look of annoyance as Count Fritz rambled on about extra cookies. Such a mundane tale was the last thing he expected to hear from one of the strangest nobles he’d met. It seemed to have an obvious explanation; servants who weren’t bright enough to count correctly. Leo wondered what was so strange about snickerdoodles.

Count Landon Monet sat there, brooding, his fingers drumming a relentless rhythm on the table. His loss in the game had put him in a foul mood. “Ah, cookies and pink skin,” he muttered. “Truly, zis is what we discuss?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he looked at each of them. “You want strange? Let me tell you about my childhood, about my father,” he began, his tone dark and intense. “Count Bruce was a man who thought ‘e was invincible. And I, I was ‘is eldest son, ze one ‘e expected to be just like ‘im.”

Landon's voice grew quieter, more menacing. “I remember being a child, no more than ten, and ‘e would yell, threaten, berate me and my brother Dion. ‘Is words cut deeper than any blade. ‘E would tell us we were worthless, that we needed to toughen up. And if we didn’t meet ‘is standards, ‘e would make sure we paid for it.”

He clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white. “There was one night... one night I’ll never forget. I had failed to memorize a passage from some Primitus text. ‘E was furious, dragged me out into the courtyard. It was winter, freezing cold. ‘E made me kneel in the snow for hours, reciting that damned passage until my lips were blue and I couldn’t feel my legs.”
Landon's eyes glinted with rage. “And you know what the worst part was? ‘E stood there, watching, making sure I didn’t move. If I faltered, ‘e would strike me across the face with ‘is cane. That night, I thought I would die there, in that cold, dark courtyard. But I didn’t. I survived.”

He leaned forward, his voice a low growl. “You want to know strange? Strange is knowing your father was poisoned, and feeling relief instead of sorrow. Strange is taking over ‘is role and realizing you’ve become what you hated most. I try, you know? I try not to be ‘im, but sometimes I see ‘is shadow in everything I do.”

Landon’s gaze turned to the whiskey in his glass, swirling it absentmindedly. “Every day, I battle with ‘is ghost. I see ‘im in my reflection, hear ‘is voice in my head. And no matter what I do, I can’t escape it. So, yes, strange things ‘appen, but they are nothing compared to the darkness that lingers inside, waiting to consume you.”

While Count Hendrix’s account had received a raised eyebrow, and a slightly bemused smile, Wulfric grew thoughtful at Count Monet’s tale. Silently, he found himself comparing Landon’s experience with his own. Edin wasn’t so inclined to berating - unless the target was Callum - and he would never risk inflicting easily visible injuries, or going so overboard he might endanger his progeny. Yet, he too was prone to encouraging proper behaviour with punishments, believed himself invincible, and had a talent for inspiring hatred.

“You are not him,” he stated simply, meeting Landon’s eyes. “And if you do not wish to be like him, then you will have to keep fighting. Every single day,” he said intently, and might as well have been saying it to himself. Thankfully, he had never hated himself. Regretted his own past actions – or inactions? Certainly. But hatred was an emotion he reserved solely for his sire.

He laid a companionable palm upon Count Monet’s shoulder. “From what I have seen, you are a wonderful father. You would never treat your children the way your father treated you, would you?” He smiled, but there was a cool expectation in his gaze as he leaned closer to the man, gaze intent. “Besides…” his voice lowered, and the grasp on Landon’s shoulder became slightly firmer, though not uncomfortably so. Briefly, he leaned into whispering distance, and relayed something to the count.

That said, he patted Monet’s shoulder, and settled back into his chair. “Besides, as humans, we have the unprecedented if often wasted capacity to rise above our worst nature,” he concluded.

Anger initially flared in Landon’s expression. Was the prince suggesting he wasn’t fighting every day? But then the prince’s next words soothed him like water quelling a fire. Landon gave a respectful nod.

Ryn observed the men’s exchange before signaling a nearby server. He leaned in and whispered, “I think Count Monet has had enough to drink tonight. Could you please make sure his drinks are alcohol-free from now on?” The man gave a subtle but knowing nod. “Capital. I’d like to order some warm drinks and a light snack for us.” Hopefully, something warm would soothe the count’s troubled spirit, if only for a moment.

As the server left to get their order, Ryn turned his attention back to the group, focusing on Count Monet. “Landon, you are who you choose to be.”

“Your past and its consequences will be with you, but every decision you make is a chance to be a different person than your father was. It may not be easy, but imagine the day when you can look in the mirror and see only yourself, not him.” Ryn smiled warmly. “The sweetness of that victory.”

“Manners maketh man, Count Monet. A man with poor discipline like that is a rather poor definition of manhood and fatherhood alike.” The glass Drake held swirled autonomously in his hand as he swished what was left in the glass into his gullet. Not even a blink in his eyes as he gestured for another glass to be brought to his seat - politely of course. “I think the lovely gents here have done a proper job laying their seeds of advice and consolation. And I would offer mine own condolences for having such an upbringing.” The lord raised his now refilled glass and offered a solitary toast. “To the count! May he have the strength and character to leave the embers of his fiery childhood behind him in the days to come.” Drake took another healthy sip of his whiskey, almost as if he intended to wash something away with it.

Leo said nothing, continuing to drink his beer, and wondering which Caesonian count was more unpleasant; Monet or Damien. At least Calbert could fake some decorum, but it seemed it took only a whisper of alcohol to turn Landon into a depressing mess of a man that rivaled the youngest Danrose. Leo offered no words, not wanting to feed into the uncomfortable conversation, and simply raised his nearly finished glass as Drake proposed a toast. He hoped they could return to more appropriate conversation topics.
3x Like Like 1x Thank Thank
Hidden 4 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago



Time: Later on... 10pm
Location: Meeting room in a mansion in unknown location in woods




The grand meeting room of the Black Rose's hidden mansion was dimly lit, the flickering glow of candles casting long shadows against the walls. The heavy wooden table stretched the room's length, its surface gleaming under the low light. At its head sat Marek Delronzo, his dark eyes sharp as he surveyed the room.

The entrance to the room was heavily guarded, with only the most trusted members allowed to pass through its heavy, iron-bound doors. First to enter traditionally were the Underbosses; known as the Rooks. In essence, the Rooks acted as Marek’s most trusted lieutenants, executing his will and ensuring his plan continued in motion.

The two of them were to sit at the seats closest to Marek, flanking him as per usual. Marciano Giordano, his expression respectful and composed, reached the head of the table, bowing slightly before kissing the back of Marek's hand. Without a word, he took his seat beside Marek, his presence exuding a quiet authority.

With his salt-and-pepper hair neatly cropped and a well-groomed beard, it was easy to tell Marciano was a meticulous man. His dark skin contrasted elegantly with the rich, deep hues of his tailored suit. Despite his composed exterior, there was an underlying edge to him, a sense of restrained power that warned others to tread carefully in his presence.

Next to enter was the Bishop, Mr. Solomon, whose first name was unknown to most. His role as the consigliere was to provide strategic counsel and guidance.

He entered the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. It was not through any overt display of power, but through the sheer weight of his silence. His stark features were framed by hair the color of winter frost. His dark eyes held an almost predatory calm as if they could see through every mask worn by those around him.

Clad in a black suit, devoid of any unnecessary embellishment, Mr. Solomon’s appearance was simple. The absence of color in his attire only served to amplify the intensity of his presence. His demeanor was one of cold, calculated control. His gaze swept across the room, every detail noted and stored away for future use. When he finally took his place at the table, there was no fanfare.

Next were the available Knights, also known as the Capos. There were about four operating in Sorian who could attend. They were responsible for overseeing the day-to-day operations within their assigned territories or groups. Knights reported directly to the Rooks.

Alejandro Serrano entered the grand meeting room with a palpable presence. Dressed in a sharply tailored luxurious suit, his silver-streaked hair and piercing eyes contrasted against the flickering candlelight. The room seemed to darken around him, his aura exuding a cold, ruthless energy that left little doubt about his capacity for cruelty. He roughly pulled out the chair and sat in it without much grace.

Next, Seraphina Duval stepped into the dimly lit room silently yet gracefully. Clad in a tailored black gown with intricate golden embroidery, she exuded an air of elegance. She was undeniably beautiful with rich dark skin and enchanting eyes. However, those in that room always knew that under that appearance was a dangerously smart woman. There was an underlying tension in her posture even as she sat down.

The third Knight Thomas La’Blanc strode in with a pep in his step, his golden curls bouncing with him. His smile was as bright as ever even as he looked around the room. He knew better than to speak during the entrance process, so he presented everyone with a friendly wave.

With a theatrical flourish, Thomas made his way to his seat, flashing a friendly nod to each person he passed. He moved with an air of confidence as if he were attending a simple social event rather than a gathering of some of the most dangerous figures in Sorian. His demeanor was so warm and inviting that it was easy to forget the darkness that lurked beneath the surface. Thomas took his seat with a satisfied sigh, leaning back comfortably, his smile never wavering for a second.

The last, the youngest and the newest Knight, Felix Ivanov lastly stepped into the grand meeting room. His presence was met with barely concealed disdain from some of the older members seated around the table. Dressed impeccably in a turtle neck as always, he had a youthful look with full eyelashes and sharp features. As he took his seat, the tension in the room thickened. Many believed that his rapid rise to Knight was due to favoritism. Despite the weight of their eyes on him, Felix’s expression remained unreadable, his composure unshaken. Their opinions mattered little. He had earned his place.

Select elite soldiers, often nicknamed the Swords, were then allowed to enter the room, including known killing machine Yuka Hanami, the talented Kira Mapenzi, and the white-eyed Zane Rose.

Marek remained silent as the last of his trusted members took their seats. His hands, clad in black gloves, rested on the arms of his chair. The room was still, the only sound was the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth and the occasional shifting of a chair as someone adjusted their position.

A moment passed, then another, before Marek finally leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he spoke in a voice that was commanding, “We begin.”


7x Like Like 2x Thank Thank
Hidden 4 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago



Part 2

Time: Later on... 10pm
Location: Meeting room in a mansion in unknown location in woods
Interaction: @Potter Kira @FunnyGuy Alexander


The room remained still, the air heavy with anticipation as Marek leaned back in his chair. The tension was palpable, every eye in the room trained on the godfather, waiting for his next move.

Without a word, Marek snapped his fingers. The doors creaked open once more and two guards dragged in a man bound in chains, his eyes wide with terror. The traitor’s breath came in ragged gasps as he was thrown to the floor beside Marek’s chair, his body trembling with fear, his dark hair matted with blood.

Marek’s gaze was cold as he looked down at the man, his expression free of pity. He let the silence stretch, the only sound filling the air labored breathing. Beside him, his underbosses freely peered down at the mess of a man. Marciano, who was the closest to the traitor, wore a stoney expression but not without exuding a hint of contempt. Alexander on the other hand, perked up with curiosity while the stench of blood slightly upturned the corners of his mouth.

“Betrayal,” Marek began sharply, his tone calm, “is the one sin I do not forgive.”

Servants filled the room and approached the table, filling each member’s glass with deep red wine. Marek extended his hand over the traitor, dark energy slithering from his fingertips. The traitor’s screams filled the room, his body convulsing in agony. His cries echoed off the walls, but no one at the table flinched. With a flick of Marek’s wrist, the traitor’s body was violently flung across the room, slamming into the wall with a sickening thud. He was pinned there as if an unseen weight pressed down on him.

The servants, unperturbed, began to serve the first course of food, their faces calm as if this were just another ordinary meal. The first course featured venison, the meat sliced thin and arranged in a perfect circle. It was drizzled with a rich balsamic glaze and served with brioche bread.

As the traitor writhed in pain, Marek’s eyes moved slowly around the table, gauging the reactions of each member. Marciano maintained his respectful composure, his gaze steady as he dressed his lap in a napkin. Alexander respectfully met his gaze and delivered a slight nod. Mr. Solomon’s expression was one of detached observation.

Alejandro leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips, his gaze fixed on the traitor. Seraphina sipped at her wine, her eyes betraying no emotion as she watched the scene unfold. Meanwhile, Thomas twirled his wine glass between his fingers, a pleasant smile on his face.

Felix, though younger than the rest, remained composed.

Yuka’s eyes gleamed, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she observed the pain being inflicted, while Zane, ever the enigma, watched in silence.

Kira watched the scenario with her trademark stoic expression. The labored breathing caused her to avert her gaze. His suffering wasn’t one she wanted to endure. She glanced at Zane and moved her hand inconspicuously under the table. She tapped his fingers a few times in a comforting manner.

Beside Zane, a petite blonde figure tapped her foot anxiously. Kira peered at the young girl. What was this girl’s name - Ruth, Rory... No, Rue. She had been nicknamed ”The Butterfly” for her effortless grace. Kira wasn’t certain why she was here; though, after seeing the girl’s fighting abilities, Kira knew she was tougher than she looked. Sucked to suck, Kira supposed.

As the servants finished serving the first course, they turned their attention to the traitor pinned against the wall. Without a word, they each produced daggers. The calm expressions on their faces never wavered as they approached the man, who was now trembling violently, his eyes darting frantically around the room in a desperate search for mercy.

The first servant pressed the dagger to the traitor’s side and, with a deliberate motion, pushed the blade into his flesh. The man’s scream pierced the air, but it didn’t faze the servants. One by one, they took turns, each stabbing the traitor in a different part of his body, drawing out his agony. The traitor’s blood dripped onto the floor beneath him.

As the traitor’s life slowly drained away, the servants halted their process and went to retrieve mops for the blood.

Marek picked up his glass, his eyes once again scanning the room. “Loyalty,” he said quietly, raising his glass in a silent toast, “is the foundation of our family. May we never forget the price of betrayal.”As Marek raised his glass, the rest of the room followed suit, lifting their glasses in unison. Each member then sipped their wine.

Marek set his glass down, his eyes narrowing slightly as he shifted his focus to the Knights seated around the table. "Now, let us proceed with the reports," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Alejandro, begin."

Alejandro set his glass down with a slight smirk. "The ring fighting operations are running smoothly," he began, "Profits have been high, and we've had no issues with the fighters. A new batch of recruits shows promise… Strong, desperate men who'll fight to the death for the chance at a few coins. We've had some good bets coming in from the wealthier clients, and I've made sure that the fights are as brutal as ever."

Marek nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. Keep the blood flowing… And ensure that the crowd remains entertained."

Next to speak was Seraphina. "The distribution of our new products has been successful, and demand is rising across the territories," she reported. "The profits from the new drugs have exceeded expectations, and I foresee continued growth in the coming months. However, Harvest of the Sea shipments from Yola hold some competition."

She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued, "To address this, I plan to utilize our connections with the pirates along the coast. I'll hire them to intercept and disrupt the Yola shipments, ensuring that their supply lines are cut off and their profits dwindle. This will not only discourage their operations but also force their clients to turn to us as the more reliable source."

"Excellent," Marek said with a dark smile. "Ensure that those who challenge our dominance learn the true cost of their defiance."

"Consider it done," she replied smoothly.

Marek’s gaze slid to Thomas next, who beamed and immediately spoke. "The acquisition and training of new slaves have been proceeding as planned," Tom reported with a smile. "I've also been expanding our recruitment efforts, using some new methods to lure in talent. Our clients remain pleased with the quality of the merchandise!"

Marek's gaze lingered on Thomas for a moment longer. "Continue to deliver the best," he ordered. "And remember, discretion is key. We cannot afford to draw too much attention to our operations right now."

After the others had given their reports, Felix sat up a bit straighter. The room's attention turned to him. "The Swords," he began, "are performing their duties with the precision we expect. I've been closely monitoring their activities, and they’ve proven to be effective enforcers and protectors of our interests."

Marek studied Felix for a moment, his expression inscrutable. “...Very good.” Then his eyes fell on his underboss, Alexander, and he said, “Marciano and I spoke already tonight, however, I have not yet heard from you, Alexander… Do you have anything to report?" Alexander’s eyes peered his way just as he was finishing a sip of his wine. He placed the glass down, wiping any trace of the red liquid from his lips.
8x Like Like 2x Thank Thank
Hidden 4 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago



Part 3

Time: Later on... 10pm
Location: Meeting room in a mansion in unknown location in woods
Mention: @Helo Callum @Tpartywithzombi Violet @Tae Mina


“Plenty, sir.” Alexander’s voice carried eagerness with it. “Firstly, I would like to inform everyone that my transfer to Sorian has gone smoothly and I continue to cast a favorable light upon the Black Rose. As planned, I have begun to prop up Prince Callum while feeding into his affinity for the dregs and unfortunates of the capital. A true hero of the people and the Black Rose will be seen as the biggest philanthropic supporter of his cause.”

Marek's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he considered Alexander's report on Prince Callum."Prince Callum will indeed be a potent weapon…. I am thankful for your efforts, Alexander." He started coolly. "Our manipulation of the boy must be subtle and slow."

“Agreed. Additionally, King Danrose is already under pressure and I aim to organize an auction to further legitimize Callum’s movement. In time, we will be capable of weaponizing it if needed.”

Marek leaned back in his chair, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, "We will guide Callum, and nurture his anger, but we must do so in a way that appears to benefit Edin and the eldest Prince. We must make it seem as though we are merely aligning ourselves with the prince's ambitions, helping him achieve what the king may secretly desire but cannot overtly pursue."

His eyes gleamed with a dark satisfaction. "By the time Edin realizes the full extent of Callum's transformation, it will be too late."

The smile that formed on Marek’s face was predatory. "Continue your efforts, Alexander, but remember—this is a game of shadows. Let Callum's hatred guide him into our grasp, but never let it be traced back to us. We must remain the unseen hand, the force that drives him toward his destiny... and ours." He tilted his head, his grin widening, “After this meeting, I will speak with a select few of you regarding this matter in greater detail.” Nearly everyone’s eyes shifted in Marek’s direction, some out of recognition and others out of anticipation of who might be selected.

“The next portion of my report is in regards to Violet Damien.”Alexander said. Her name seemed to drag from off his tongue. “We have her parents’ compliance but… She could prove to be a risky investment. We can still use her as a means to control her father or as a scapegoat but she requires a guiding hand to prevent any collateral damage to our organization. If there are no qualms with you, I request permission to personally gain her trust and dispose of her when her use to us expires. So far, her mother believes she was the stable boy’s sole murderer and that we aided her family in covering it up for them. As planned, they are in our hands.”

“Lastly, I can confirm Mina Blackwood is a practitioner of magic, protection magic to be exact. I plan to confirm more about her but at this time, I don’t believe her affinity to magic to be a threat to us in the slightest.” Alexander then took another sip from his wine glass.

There was a pause, and then Marek’s expression darkened as he considered the implications of Violet Damien. “Violet Damien,” he intoned, his voice a low growl, “is an unstable force...A squad shall be assigned to watch over her from the shadows, ensuring she remains controlled.”

“This unit will ensure her protection if necessary, but more importantly, they will prevent her from becoming a liability. If she proves too uncontrollable, she will be dealt with accordingly. However, her disposal must be executed with the utmost precision, leaving no trace that could lead back to the Black Rose in any shape or form.”

He exhaled, relaxing as he considered the last subject, "As for Mina Blackwood, her magic does not concern me, though I do find it... intriguing. Assign someone to keep a discreet eye on her. She is too high-profile for us to utilize directly, but as long as she remains out of our way, she poses no real threat. We will continue monitoring her activities, but do not engage unless necessary…” He met Alexander’s gaze directly as he inquired, “Any comments?"

“I am in agreement with you but I only ask that you consider my mentorship of her. She’s like oil, flammable, volatile even. A watchful eye over is good but adding a careful hand gives our organization a pawn. A pawn with additional talents and someone we don’t have to recognize as our own when things become out of our control. An unwitting, unaffiliated agent. A proxy even.” Alexander smirked at the idea of having a throw-away asset in the form of a monster in the night.

"Very well. I approve of your mentorship.” Marek was quick to agree, as he trusted Alexander’s judgment above many.
“Thank you, you shall not regret this.”

"Now… I have things I’d like to share with all of you as well.” Marek folded his hands.

5x Like Like 2x Thank Thank
Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago



Part 4

Time: Later on... 10pm
Location: Meeting room in a mansion in unknown location in woods
Mention: @PapaOso Cassius @Conscripts Dr. John @Tae Kalliope @FunnyGuy Alexander @Potter Olivia, Kira @ReusableSword Roman @Tpartywithzombi Violet @Helo Leo @Samreaper Kazumin @JJ Doe Fritz/Ryn @Apex Sunburn Sjan-dehk



Marek’s expression darkened as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepling thoughtfully.

“The party last Thursday was a remarkable success,” Marek began, his tone conversational yet filled with satisfaction. “To watch the nobility—the so-called pillars of society—descend into chaos was… exquisite. “ His eyes started to gleam with sadistic pleasure as he spoke, clearly reveling in the feeling for just a moment until he took a gander at those around them. Taking into account a handful who seemed confused, he elaborated with a dark chuckle, “A little entertainment was orchestrated beneath one of our warehouses, and all it took was a carriage ride from one of our magic slaves within the castle to carry even a princess and prince into our hands. How easily they fell into our trap, like moths to a flame.”

He smiled briefly before stating, “We will be hosting another eventually… When the mood strikes my fancy.” At that moment, the doors opened, and the aroma of a delicious meal filled the air.

Servants refilled the room and placed plates before each member, revealing perfectly seared steaks, their juices glistening under the candlelight. Beside it, golden-brown potatoes, crisp on the outside yet soft and buttery within.

“That very same night, Lady Violet Damien was nearly sent to her grave by Alden Plannington, an advisor to the King himself. Her motionless body was brought to us by Lady Lillian Damien, and for a fleeting moment, death had almost claimed her. But fate, or perhaps our intervention, saw fit to keep her in this world long enough to receive the vampiric curse. Fortunately, Alexander has volunteered to make sure she is kept controlled…” He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. “As for the advisor, Plannington, he has been secured within our grasp, and his fate will be decided at my leisure. Going forward, Count Damien and his family shall remain in our good graces….

“Especially Cassius Vael… Calbert’s bastard son has slithered back to his nest… Perhaps his reputation as the Scourge of Eisenholm rings a bell for some of you…” A ripple of recognition and unease passed through the room as Marek’s gaze swept over the table. “The Iron Wolves will undoubtedly come to reclaim their golden boy, and we must ensure that he is within our grasp before they have the chance. Fortuitously, we have an ex-Iron Wolf among us—Kira Mapenzi. Your task is to gain his trust and draw him into our fold. I trust this will be nothing more than a simple game for you. We already have our people out there watching over the Damiens, so all you have to do is put the bait on the hook… Moving on.”

His eyes flicked to two small books on the table before him, his fingers brushing over its cover. “There are others who do not enjoy the same leniency as the Damien’s.” He lifted his gaze, “Alejandro and Felix…”

Once Marek was certain he had their undivided attention, he slowly opened one of the books, the pages crackling softly as he began to read aloud. “Within these pages, you'll find a list of names, each accompanied by details our sources have meticulously gathered. These individuals will each receive... special events, orchestrated by your hands. You will utilize pawns and magic slaves to ensure these tasks are carried out flawlessly.” His gaze shifted to Alejandro, a dark gleam in his eyes. “You have three names to contend with, each one presenting its own set of challenges. But make no mistake—I expect nothing less than dark fates for them.”

A slow, wicked smile spread across Alejandro’s lips.

“The first target is Dr. John Williamson of the Varian Kingdom... a liability whose knowledge has become far too inconvenient… Everything you need is detailed within these pages.” Marek’s voice was cold and precise as he continued. “The second, Kalliope Arden, a formidable woman in the King’s employ. She will not be easily subdued, so do not hesitate with resources… And lastly, Lord Roman Ravenwood—a figure of high standing. Exercise extreme caution in dealing with him.”

“Felix, this next book is for you,” Marek announced, turning his gaze to the youngest Knight, a cold smile curling on his lips. “Though you’ve earned my trust, there are still those who remain unconvinced of your capabilities. I’m giving you this task not just to prove yourself to them, but to solidify your place among us. Utilize every resource at your disposal—our swords, our pawns, our slaves… whatever it takes to instill fear and inflict torment upon the individuals listed here.”

Marek pulled the book into his grasp, flipping it open with a deliberate motion. “Your targets are Kazumin Nagasa, Lord Leo Smithwood, Count Fritz Hendrix, and finally, a woman named Olivia currently residing in the Vikena household. …Whatever you do decide, I’d like them all kept alive…”

He glanced around the room, his gaze sharp. “Everyone, those below the rank of Knight will be dismissed in ten minutes, once your meals are finished. Use this time wisely. If you have any commentary or concerns, now is the moment to voice them.”

Marciano gave a slight nod, his voice calm yet laced with dark satisfaction. "As always, your plans are meticulous, Marek. I look forward to seeing our enemies crumble."

Mr. Solomon's eyes glinted with cautious approval, “Your plans, as always, are well crafted as Marciano stated, Marek. Yet, there are a few... nuances I would like to explore further.” His voice was steady, betraying neither doubt nor full agreement. “I have some questions that I will hold until later.”

Meanwhile, Felix leaned back with his new book, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he tapped the book with his fingers. "Marek, you really shouldn’t have. It’s not even my birthday… I’m… I’m touched. " He flipped the book open, scanning the names. Yuka, who was beside him, leaned over to peek at the book, her wild grin widening. "Kazumin, Leo, Fritz, and Olivia... I’ll start with a little light terror, move on to some medium-grade torment, and finish with a cherry on top of psychological scarring... You know, the classics."

Yuka chuckled softly from beside Felix, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she jeered, "With names like that, it’s almost like they’re asking for it!" She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, lowly adding to him, "But seriously, if you need help Fefe, you know where to find me."

Suddenly, she sprung from her chair as something crossed her mind, "Oh, oh wait!” Marek glanced over at Yuka as she asked, “Where’s the advisor? I wanna play with him.” He had planned to ignore the question anyhow, but due to an interruption, he did not have to.

"Marek," Seraphina called sharply, "I received word earlier today that there’s a ship from Viserjanta ported in Sorian. Normally, this wouldn't concern me, but I've caught wind of a rumor that this particular vessel had brought in prisoners—possibly pirates…The ship belongs to a man that was seen with Kalliope Arden more than once recently."

“I trust you to look into that further and handle, Seraphina.” Marek replied and the woman nodded. “If that is all, then make haste and finish your meals.”


8x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Tpartywithzombi
Raw
Avatar of Tpartywithzombi

Tpartywithzombi “Strong women are absolutely unpredictable.”

Member Seen 6 hrs ago


Time: 10 pm
Location: The cells
Mention:
Interactions:
Appearance: No shoes | Thin white long dress | Heavy black cloak with hood

Ari’s heart pounded with a mix of dread and resolve. The guards, clad in their gleaming armor, showed no emotion as they took hold of her arms and led her through the grand corridors of the palace. The stone walls, once familiar, now felt cold and oppressive. She wondered if that was how Callum felt here. She struggled against the guard's grip as they passed through the ornate halls and descended into the depths of the castle.

The journey down to the cells was long and winding. The light grew dimmer with every step, the air growing colder and more stale. Torches flickered on the walls, casting eerie shadows that danced and twisted. The sound of dripping water echoed in the silence, each drop like a countdown.

Finally, they arrived at the entrance to the cells. A massive iron gate, rusted with age, creaked open to reveal a dark passageway beyond. The guards pushed her forward, their grip unyielding as they guided her into the darkness. Her bare feet hit the cold cobblestone, echoing with each step. The stench of dampness and decay filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn. She could hear the distant sounds of other prisoners—murmurs, cries, the clinking of chains—a chorus of despair that chilled her.

They reached her cell, a small, damp space with stone walls and a floor covered in straw. The door slammed shut behind her with a resounding clang, the sound reverberating through the chamber. Ariella was left alone in the suffocating darkness. She could barely make out the outline of her surroundings, but the overwhelming sense of isolation was impossible to ignore.

The cell was cold, the air thick with the smell of mold and filth. A single, small window high up on the wall let in a sliver of moonlight, casting a pale beam across the floor. Ariella shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as she sank onto the straw. The rough, dirty material scratched her skin, a stark contrast to sleeping in the grass.

Time passed slowly in the darkness. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional distant wail of another prisoner or the scurrying of rats in the corners. Ariella tried to focus her mind, to steel herself for what lay ahead. She knew that the king's punishment would be harsh But this was her price to protect her friend, and magic had its consequences.

Her green eyes scanned around the cell as the wailing continued around her. Sliding down the cold stone wall as tucked her legs into her chest attempting to keep herself warm. A fleeting thought of Mathias and the lunch date entered her mind. She sighed slightly, the captain of the royal guard would likely take issue with her current situation.

All Ari knew at this point was it was going to be a very long night.

5x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by JJ Doe
Raw
Avatar of JJ Doe

JJ Doe

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago




2x Like Like 1x Thank Thank
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by Lava Alckon
Raw
Avatar of Lava Alckon

Lava Alckon

Member Seen 1 mo ago

Farim & Riona





As the processions at the table came to a buzzing slow - Farim had taken the time to escort his date home properly, wishing her a good night and that he would hopefully see her in the following morning. He had decided that his time between the afternoon and evening would be spent on another brisk walk through the city of Soriann - seeing what sights he may, and meeting whatever people he would meet. Farim made a quick dash to his room, perching Thara onto his shoulder properly as he planned to let the girl stretch her wings as they made their way into the more common areas of the city.

As he continued his walk through the city, he would raise his hand and let his falcon take off on short glides around the surrounding area as he stopped to peruse various stalls and strike up brief and pleasurable conversations with the locals. As luck would have it, Farim happened to spot a familiar figure in the distance and quickly made his way over - eager to finish their conversation from earlier. The Shehzade approached Riona and offered a gentle greeting as he stepped up to match her pace. ”Hello again, she-who-has-a-name-that-starts-with-H.” He chuckled.

The miniature decor she’d purchased for Lordling Smithwood clinked gently as Riona adjusted her grip on the box. The rest of the furnishings would be delivered directly to the guesthouse.

Riona smiled to herself, satisfied with the day’s haul, already envisioning how she would arrange the space. Just one more stop, and then she could return to the Lordling’s room and set to work.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the figure approaching her until he spoke.

That voice—she knew that voice.

Spinning around, Riona found herself face to face with Shehzade Farim. Immediately she dropped into a formal Alidasht bow. “Peace be upon you, Shehzade,” she said and switched to the Golden Tongue, “<<The Gods must surely be smiling upon me today, for what greater blessing could there be than to cross paths with you, Shehzade, your presence as warm and radiant as the sun emerging from behind the clouds?>>”

Farim raised a brow at the use of his native language, but effortlessly swapped all the same as they kept their pace.”And to you as well, Oh Kind One.” He smirked. Clearly the compliment was taken well, and he reached up to pet his falcon and decided to match Riona’s energy. ”And how fortunate that I was graced with the luck to be running into you at such a juncture. You seem to know how to flatter a man - what have I done to earn such radiant praise?” He paused to look at her various belongings in tow. ”And what might you be doing this apparently blessed day?”

A tiny smirk tugged at the more polite smile when the Shehzade returned with his own flowery phrase. “Is that not the very purpose of the Golden Tongue, Shehzade? Grandmother would have my hide if I addressed the Sultan and his kin any other way.” Though, if that’s what it would take to see her again, Riona might just have to butcher the Tongue a thousand times over. “So, I suppose you have earned such radiant praise by... existing?” She chuckled lightheartedly.

Her gaze drifted to the magnificent bird perched on the Shehzade’s shoulder. Sunlight glinted off its feathers, and Riona’s fingers itched to stroke them. Were they as soft as they looked? “Or perhaps,” she added, unable to keep the wonder from her voice, “I hope to ingratiate myself so you will acquaint me with your winged companion.”

Noticing his eyes flick curiously to the box she carried, she said, “Lord Smithwood requested his room to be redecorated, so I have procured… new furnishings.” Riona cleared her throat as she shifted the box’s weight. Debated showing him the contents. If Shehzade Farim liked Princess Anastasia enough to want to woo her, then surely the man could stomach some mischief. Even relish it.

”It is good to know my existence provides radiance for you - and hopefully others.” He leaned down so Thara and Riona could properly interact. The bird tilted its head, and often made quick darting movements with its beak as if to inspect the new person before her. ”I do not blame you. Thara is a beautiful bird. She will not bite - just don’t go plucking her feathers. She would resent that.”

Farim’s gaze fell again to the box she carried. ”New furnishings delivered by hand. Mighty kind of you to do such a thing. It is not too heavy, no?” He moved to let Thara hop onto her arm, and gently moved the bird towards the woman. ”Also, she likes being pet along her back. Try it if you would like.”

Riona’s eyes widened and her hands fumbled with the box as Shehzade Farim moved to transfer Thara to her. She set the box down on the ground before extending her arm for the bird to perch on.

The box wasn’t exactly heavy—Thara could’ve got on top and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference—but even feathers grew weighty after a time and Riona still ached from last night’s scuffle. The Lordling’s furniture could break into pieces if her arms gave out for all she cared. Thara, on the other hand? Riona didn’t want to startle her.

Gingerly, Riona’s fingers brushed against Thara’s feathers. When the bird leaned into her touch, a smile bloomed across her face and she grew bolder, stroking with growing confidence. “Aren’t you just amazing,” she breathed.

But the smile turned wistful as memories of Dan and her older cousin surfaced. “They would’ve of loved to meet you,” she told Thara softly. Dan, always at home with any creature in his care, and her cousin... Well, in another life, he might’ve been a naturalist, or maybe even a veterinarian. “May I ask what breed of bird Thara is?”

A second later, Riona realized she’d left his earlier question hanging. “I beg your pardon, I was completely enamored by Thara.” Riona glanced down at the box. “The weight is nothing I am unaccustomed to. Servants haul far heavier loads daily. But I do appreciate Your Highness’s concern.”

Riona continued to pet Thara as she asked, “If I may be so bold, what occasion brings you to this part of town, Shehzade? Is there something specific you seek?”

”I am simply going where the winds take me - it is something my brother once taught me to do. Sometimes simply wandering and seeing what the fates have in store is an adventure all by itself.” He smiled as he noticed the way she interacted with his favored bird. ”She is a Peregrine. I had found her nest after it had been attacked by a viper - I sadly could not save her mother, but I was able to raise her myself.” Farim gave her beak a light rub with the side of his finger as he retraced the tale. ”She is a very nice bird - so being enamored is only natural.” The man straightened his posture. ”You know you still have not shared your actual name with me, Mysterious One.” He slyly remarked.

Riona briefly considered continuing the game, but abandoned the idea just as quickly—it would be just rude at this point. If he forgets her name, then he forgets her name. “Ríoghnach, Your Highness.” She dipped into a curtsey, keeping her falcon-bearing arm fixed in the air. “My name is Ríoghnach.”

With a gentle touch, she coaxed Thara back to her master’s shoulder. Then, hefting the wooden box, Riona resumed her pace down the street, her steps unhurried. “Am I to understand, then, that you have no pressing engagements this evening, Shehzade?”

Farim shook his head. ”Not at all, Rioghnach.” He took the time to pronounce the name - as if savoring each syllable and nodding approvingly. The man returned her curtsey with a bow at the waist with his arm folding over his chest. ”It has a nice ring to it.|

Riona smiled at his first attempt and the compliment. “Thank you, Shehzade. If my name proves difficult to pronounce, please, call me something more comfortable to you. Most everyone does.”

His hand gave Thara’s side a perfectly gentle rub as he talked. ”I was mildly interested in the circus that I heard about. So if nothing else, there is always that. What about yourself?”

“It will depend on how quickly I can complete my tasks for the day.” Riona said simply, then turned to look at Shehzade Farim, a little surprised. “Will you not invite Princess Anastasia to accompany you? I believe she would find great delight in such an outing.”

Farim wagged his finger playfully, fully aware of the surprise of him going solo to such a place. ”Well, she actually had other plans. Plus I must not suffocate the poor woman with my attention or she may grow sick of me.” It was then Thara let out a soft coo, as if in agreement. The man chuckled lightly and pet his bird once more. ”You are welcome to join me in the festivities if you manage to accomplish your chores fast enough.”

Riona thanked him for the invitation before commenting on what he said earlier. “Are you not concerned that other prospects might tempt Her Highness? As I mentioned during lunch, she has quite the following.”

”Perhaps. It would sadden me quite a bit if she were to seek a romance elsewhere. But she has given me any reason to think she may fancy other men, so I should not worry too much for now.” He crossed his arms and looked at the woman as his eyebrows raised slightly. ”Besides. I hear I have quite the radiant presence - so I would like to see someone beat that.” The man scoffed sarcastically.

Riona couldn’t help but recall the times she saw Anastasia and Wystan together, but she kept those thoughts to herself. “If I may be so bold, Your Highness,” she began, “you might want to broaden your view of the playing field. Men are not your only competition for Her Highness’s heart.” The Shehzade scoffed, and Riona allowed herself a small smile. “The sun’s radiance is undeniable, but, for some, it can be a touch overwhelming. There are those who prefer the softer touch of moonlight.”

Farim smirked. ”You seem awfully eager for me to cast my eyes elsewhere. You would not be trying to coax my attention towards yourself would you?” He spoke in a gentle voice, leaning over and locking eyes for a moment with a grin before returning to his upright position.

If Riona had been eating or drinking in that moment, she would’ve choked on it or spat it out. His conclusion caught her completely off guard. Laughter welled up inside her, fierce and sudden, but she fought it down.

”But you are correct. Putting all of your eggs in a single basket is not a sound strategy. Both in finance and in romance.” Farim sighed. ”It is not lost on me that she could very well choose someone else. But I no longer wish to meander amidst a crowd of beautiful women. Because when one becomes the subject of your desire, well then the other dozen or so end up hurt or abandoned. But maybe I am just feeling particularly romantic this season.” He offered a slight shrug. ”Not to mention, Annie has had plenty a chance to see some more delicate moonlight. But as is the way of nature - moonlight only shines at nighttime.” The man winked at Riona.

And the sun only shines in the day. “... With all due respect, I believe whether Princess Anastasia ‘has had plenty a chance to see some more delicate moonlight’ is for Her Highness to decide.” Not you. As much as she disliked the Princess for toying with people’s hearts to satisfy her own selfish needs, Riona believed that no one had the right to dictate another person’s feelings or experiences.

Before an awkward silence had any chance to fall between them, the maid continued. “It is admirable to devote yourself to one person. Truly. I simply mean to warn that if you intend to court Princess Anastasia, you must be prepared to fight for her with all your heart. There will be many obstacles… and not all of them are romantic or political.”

Farim merely nodded. ”You are right. Forgive me if I sound conceited. I carry an air of confidence to dispel most of my usual worries. And the warning is noted and acknowledged.” He ushered his bird to take flight, allowing the falcon to circle around them overhead with the occasional perching ahead of where they were walking. ”I have fought all my life, madam. I am no stranger to such things. If winning her love requires a challenge then so be it. If I shied away from obstacles then I would not have made it far back home.”

Of that, Riona had no doubt.

“Even if she herself is the obstacle?” she asked softly. Maybe too softly, she wasn’t sure if he heard her.
4x Like Like 1x Thank Thank
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by JJ Doe
Raw
Avatar of JJ Doe

JJ Doe

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Farim & Riona Part 2




Flashback: Afternoon, After The Royal Curd’s Grand Opening


He took a moment, scanning the area as if to look for something in particular. ”If things do not work out I will make sure you will know so you can tell me that you told me so.” The Shehzade chuckled.

She wondered why he felt the need to tell her that. “Have I given the impression I desire your failure, Shehzade?” Riona followed his gaze skyward.

”Not particularly. I was just making a joke as they say. You bring tides of warning, and it is appreciated. It is a wonder that you even warn me at all - I have not done much to curry any form of favor yet here you are.” He keeps looking at Thara as she circles around overhead. ”We all are flawed in our own ways. Even if her outlook is not quite what most would want it to be - she is her own woman. If we are not meant to be, then it will become plain in time. I wish to see where things go and how she fares. There is more to that woman than some may believe.” Farim’s eyes looked down at her, his brows raised as if to silently appraise the woman he was speaking to - or even hint that she too was more than meets the eye. But he had no way of knowing such things, and thus merely smiled as he continued. ”But perhaps I am just being an optimist. I hear it is one of the few traits I get from my mother.” A brief sadness crossed his eyes as he thoughtlessly brought her up, but he moved on quickly.

The subtle quaver in his voice drew Riona’s gaze just in time to catch the flicker of sorrow in his eyes being tucked away deep inside. “Your mother sounds quite like my cousin,” Riona said. “He always sought out the best in others, regardless of how much of a طيز they were.” With deliberate timing, Riona placed her hand over her mouth and coughed into it, as if it was not too late to mask the crude word she used.

“And he was endlessly forgiving, no matter how poorly he was treated. I loved him very much, but that part of him also frustrated me to no end.” Riona shadowboxed using only her shoulders. After a few “punches,” she turned to Farim and gently ventured a question. “What other traits have you inherited from your mother?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the use of foul language. Farim held back his snickering as best he could and looked at her to answer her question. ”To be frank. I do not know. I was removed from my mother once I was able to walk. But I was…reminded how much I seemed to inherit her charm and good will. Oh and her hair - something about the way it curls or some such.” Farim explained this while returning to a slightly more contemplative look. His thoughts wandered to what he saw back at the ritual the other night. Was it real? A premonition? Or all just one bad drug trip? Despite his thinking he played it off with a shrug. It would do him no good to think on such things now, but he decided it was time to get some answers soon - perhaps tonight even.

“Removed? Why?” The question came out before Riona could catch it. She winced inwardly, realizing too late that she’d stumbled into potentially sensitive waters. “I beg for your forgiveness, Your Highness. It is not my place to pry into personal matters.”

Farim crossed his arms and furrowed his brows as they walked, the man's finger tapped on his elbow as if to contemplate something. His tone however, was still pleasant as he spoke. ”Apology accepted. I take no offense, it is only natural for one to be curious or worried over something like this. But to answer your question….” His eyes darted around, as if to look for someone who may be watching. Farim leaned into her ear and a venomous whisper dripped from his lips, as if the malice contained in his words threatened to physically manifest. ”Because Hafiz is a cruel man who wishes nothing more than the worst for the son who refuses to be his trained puppet.” For the moment, his eyes portrayed that same malcontent his words carried.

Once Farim finished, however, he switched back to his more personable demeanor. The Shehzade straightened his posture and looked at Riona. ”To further explain, I believe it was to exert a form of control over me. Or to simply traumatize me. I was never told the reason behind her ‘departure’. When I managed to see through that lie, all I was told was she was taken for my own good. One lie replaced with a load of crap.”

The maid’s eyes widened fractionally before she schooled her expression. Life in Alidasht was known for its harsh strictness, but this… And for the Grand Vizier’s son to refer him by his given name spoke volumes. “That’s terrible,” Riona said frankly and without hesitation. “What kind of person would do that to prove some twisted point? That’s just—” Realizing she was getting herself worked up, she cut herself off. Stopped walking. Closed her eyes and exhaled sharply through her nose.

After a thoughtful pause, she asked softly, “Did you ever discover what became of your mother?” The unspoken questions hung in the air between them: Was the woman even still alive? And if she was, was there any hope of finding her?

Farim could only offer a slight shrug in response - his eyes beginning to glaze over with that of a forced indifference. If he thought too much on it, his emotional self would likely bubble forth. ”I have my theories. She is likely being held in some safehouse - or prison - and unless I … persuade him then I do not think I would learn much about her whereabouts.” The man huffed as he added another clause. ”If she is still alive that is.” Farim turned to face her, gauging her reaction and whether or not she wanted to dig further down this rabbit hole.

Riona’s face lit up, and she felt a spark of excitement. “Then there is still a chance! You—” The words died on her lips as she noticed a familiar look in the eyes of this man she barely knew.

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before she finally found her voice again. “I… have another cousin, younger than the one I mentioned before. You remind me of him.” Though they looked nothing alike. If the Shehzade was the sun, then her cousin was the moon dancing with the stars. “He had a terrible habit of suppressing his emotions, often behind a smile.” She shook her head. “No, habit is not the right word. It was a necessity, a skill he learned, practiced, perfected... to survive.” Riona never forgot the time she found her cousin quietly crying alone, hidden in the shadows of a dark room. Or the times she’d watched the essence of who he was slip away during a particularly brutal training session, leaving an automaton in his place.

Riona’s brows stitched together. “At the risk of overstepping my bounds, Your Highness, may I do something that I should have done when I knew he was pretending to be fine?”

Farim offered a tilted smirk at the comparison to her cousin. It was nice to know his tale seemed to be a shared one - even among souls he did not know. There was a moment of contemplation to himself as she shared the experience of her extended family. Was this all just an act? A skill developed just to survive his cruel and unloving upbringing? He didn’t entirely dismiss the idea, but to say his happiness was not genuine might not be the most accurate statement. It was an interesting morsel of food for thought. As Riona posed her question he stopped their walking pace and faced her with a gentle beaming expression.

”I am sorry your cousin - and frankly myself - have had to endure such a life. If it is any consolation - my demeanor is a genuine one. Misfortune is everywhere, and I choose to smile despite it. I want my friends, and enemies, to know that I persevere no matter what. I am by no means impenetrable emotionally - I have had my sad moments, my angry moments, and bitter moments. I wear my heart on my sleeve - as foolhardy as it all sounds.” The Shehzade pauses for a few moments to let his words sit for a moment, then replies to her earlier question. ”And yes, I grant you permission to do whatever it is you may want to do - if you only tell me first.”

“So you were not suppressing your emotions when you were talking about your mother?” Riona eyed Shehzade Farim, saying nothing. She wasn’t buying it—that glazed look was the opposite of wearing his heart on his sleeves—but she bowed her head anyway. “Then forgive my presumption, Your Highness. I misunderstood.” She smiled briefly. A blend of polite and pinch of teasing. “It appears my offer is unnecessary.” Without telling him what the offer was, and she continued their walk.

After a few steps, Riona spoke again. “Are you certain your father is the only one who holds the key to your mother’s whereabouts? If he has proven untrustworthy before, why believe him now? What if your father is misleading you so that he can continue to have some hold over you?” She frowned. “If you truly wish to break free from his influence, to uncover the truth... perhaps you should seek her out on your own. It would certainly be a powerful message to your father.” Her expression softened. “And if you found her alive. That would be... quite the victory, would it not?”

He seemed to be befuddled for a moment, pausing in stride before jogging to catch back up. ”Now hold on!” Once he caught up he would resume their strollong pace. ”How cruel to pique my curiosity and then decide against telling me.” He breathed a slight chuckle. ”It is more than that. I do not really have a uniform ‘rule’ for how I carry myself. I am simply doing my best. It would be inhumane of me to not frown at the thought of my mother - let alone any of the horrible things that man has likely done to her.” His face became more stoic as he steadied his breathing. ”But to explode into tears or sadness over every errant thought that crosses my mind would not be healthy either. Life is all about balance, young lady.” He addressed her casually in his Mother Tongue with those last few words - smirking at the playful nature of his banter.

“... An errant thought so intense that it threatens to overwhelm you with sorrow is not something to be dismissed, Shehzade.”
4x Like Like 1x Thank Thank
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago



Part 5

Time: Later on... 10pm
Location: Meeting room in a mansion in unknown location in woods
Mention: @PapaOso Cassius @FunnyGuy Alexander @Potter Olivia @Helo Callum @Silverpaw Wulfric @samreaper Kazumin


“Everyone below the rank of Knight, you are dismissed. Thank you for your presence.” Marek stated firmly, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. As Marek’s words hung in the air, the room filled with the shuffling of chairs. The servants moved swiftly to clear the table as this occurred.

The lesser members exited the grand meeting room one by one, leaving an air of anticipation behind. When the last of them had left and the doors were securely shut, only the most trusted remained: the Knights, Mr. Solomon, Marciano, and Alexander.

Marek’s gaze slowly swept across the remaining figures before landing on Mr. Solomon. “Please begin with your concerns.”

Mr. Solomon set his steely gaze on him and then began, “My first concern, my King… While the last party indeed brought a satisfying level of chaos, I must raise a concern about the lack of precautions for who was allowed entry. The Alidasht royals, for example, became a significant variable. Their presence and any potential harm coming to them drew far more attention than we would have desired.”

“I strongly advise that for any future events, we implement tighter controls on only allowing the guest list. We should avoid allowing royals—or anyone of similarly very high profile—inside. Sending any royals back in a poor state, physically or mentally, only increases the risk of unwanted scrutiny. The aftermath has shown us that too much attention was drawn.”

Marek listened, his expression unreadable at first. “You make a valid point, Solomon,” he began, his tone thoughtful. “The presence of the Alidasht royals did indeed complicate matters...” He paused, then leaned back in his chair, a slow, malevolent grin spreading across his face. “However, I am not concerned. The so-called investigations they launch…They’ve always failed, and they will continue to fail. Their efforts are laughable at best.” His eyes had a sinister gleam as he added, “In the end, they’ll find nothing.”

Then, Marek looked at the rest of them. “Any comments on the dilemma?”

“I agree with Solomon… I would avoid allowing royalty to enter for now.” Marciano stated.

“I think I’d like to attend the next one and see what all the fuss is about.” Felix mused, leaning back in his chair.

“Excluding royalty sounds safe but what would even be the objective of these events if we did such a thing? The parties were designed to sew disorder within those that hold significant influence. Information. Blackmail. Entertainment. You’re not getting nearly as much of those from doctors or the daughters of dukes.” Alexander shrugged. “Setting a limit may be the solution.”

“I’ll consider having someone monitor the situation on a case-by-case basis. However, I’ve greatly enjoyed the chaos and confusion that’s ensued, and I see no reason to curb it. As Alexander suggests, I’m open to setting some boundaries, but I insist that the Caesonian royalty remain welcome. Their presence adds a certain… flavor to our gatherings.”

“And I’ll be there this time so everything will go perfectly naturally.” Felix jested with a snicker, pulling a chuckle out of Thomas.

Dr. Solomon's gaze shifted to Marek as he spoke once more, “I imagine this ties back to Prince Callum… What exactly are your intentions for the boy?”

Marek's smile widened and there was a glint of malice in his eyes. “Naturally, it does. My goal is quite simple—I intend for him to take Prince Wulfric's place as the next King.”

Everyone's attention snapped to Marek, curiosity and unease flickering in their eyes.

“I do not foresee Wulfric ever treading a path of my design… Callum, on the other hand, will be far more malleable, a suitable puppet to lead the kingdom. I suspect that one day, Callum and I will see very eye to eye.” Marek’s dark chuckle reverberated through the room.

“...The boy may indeed despise his family, however, that doesn’t mean his heart is as dark as those in our midst. I’m certain he would recoil at our less-than-savory activities… ”

“Oh, I quite agree,” Marek replied, his tone laced with anticipation. “But the more Callum taps into the power of dark magicae, the more he’ll transform into someone far more agreeable to our cause.”

Mr. Solomon’s lips curled into a faint smile, then he glanced down at his notes. “And how can we be certain that Cassius Vael is worth the effort? All we have are stories and hearsay.”

“A valid question,” Marek replied with a nod. “Felix, you’ll oversee Kira’s efforts when it comes to Cassius... As for Cassius, I intend to put those rumors to the test, both mentally and physically. We’ll see if his reputation holds any weight.”

“My next concern revolves around the lists of names you’ve compiled. Are all these individuals truly enemies of the Black Rose? Many of them are rather high-profile figures.”

Marek’s smile remained, but his eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re right to question that. They’re more so Count Damien’s enemies than ours. Though I must admit, I might have crafted a similar one myself. It aligns perfectly with a little plan I’ve been brewing—a personal one if you will. I’ll share more details with you later.”

He paused briefly, letting his words sink in before continuing. “The Count approached us just last night, seeking our aid with his dilemmas. He ultimately decided to strike fear into the hearts of those on that list. It seems the girl Olivia and her companion Kazumin have given Damien the impression they’re targeting him and his family. After an incident involving arrows through the Damien estate windows and an escape utilizing the aid of magic, the two took refuge in the Vikena household. Olivia, once known as Persephone, attempted to alter her appearance, but it was a futile effort. I’ve made it clear to Calbert exactly who she is. Rather than pursue legal action, he’s chosen to have them tormented instead. It seems Calbert and I share a certain… appreciation for inflicting suffering.”

“Why not outright kill them or frame them as a scapegoat for one of our activities? Could even make them into slaves. Besides a few matters of circumstance, those two bear no significance.” Alexander argued before taking a sip from his glass.

“Count Damien is known for his games, Alexander, as I’m sure you’ve heard. For him, it’s always about power—a constant struggle for dominance… As for me, what happens to any of them matters little. However, this will all matter to Lady Vikena… Killing them too soon would be too abrupt. The isolation phase must endure for some time longer.”

“Charlotte…” Looking off, Alexander let her name hang in the air while a pleasant grin spread across his lips. I hope I get a chance to taste her before she becomes- Alexander's eyes met Marek’s. “I guess she does give value to the two. I stand humbly corrected, King.”

Marek’s smirk deepened as he drummed his fingers thoughtfully before glancing at Mr. Solomon. “Oh, and, Solomon, continue your research on that family. I’d like to find the last of them before they reveal themselves… That’ll be all for now.” He rose from his chair, signaling for the others to follow. “Marciano, Alexander, Solomon—reconvene with me late tomorrow evening.”

As Marek made his way out, he paused beside Alexander, leaning in to speak lowly in his ear. “If you think you’d enjoy her, I encourage you to take what you desire from this world... The more she suffers, the better it will serve our purpose.” His words left Alexander with eyes brimming with excitement.


5x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago

Count Calbert Damien, Cassius Vael, Shahzade Munir al-Kadir, Doctor John Williamson

Part 1



Count Calbert Damien had seated himself first at the table, expecting his son to follow. Instead of the blue suit he wore earlier, he was now dressed in an expensive black suit, his long hair perfectly laying down his back. With a smile on his face, he calmly picked up the menu and turned to glance over to the side, expecting his son to seat himself beside him.

Cassius was not tailing his father as closely as the man had expected. No… Instead, Cas had stopped to chat up a hostess that had crossed his path shortly after they entered the establishment. He was a creature of habit after all. As he parted ways with the woman, she was left with a charmed smile and cheeks that were flushed with a rosy, red hue. His eyes turned back towards Calbert just as the man’s glance was searching for him. Making his way over to the table, Cassius took his seat next to the count.

“I quite like the look of this place. It’s almost too posh for my bastard blood…and yet there’s just enough rakish appeal to suit my tastes.

Calbert met his son’s eyes and gave him a warning glance, despite the smile that graced his lips.

Munir hopped out of the carriage, dressed in a suit that fit the setting of the evening. He took a moment to smooth out the coat of his suit and shook his hair out. For the evening, he chose to wear a simple black suit, matching black slacks and a cream colored shirt with the top two buttons undone. In terms of accessories, he also chose to be very simple. His hair was tied into a loose pony tail, secured with a small golden circlet engraved with the sigil of his house, but without any jewels. He also chose to wear a simple gold braided necklace with a small onyx scorpion pendant that is hidden underneath his shirt.

Upon his entrance into the building, Munir gave the hostess a small nod and kept moving. “Count Damien. How refreshing it is to see you here. Allow me to get the first round of drinks for the table, in advance to what is surely to be a wonderful night of conversations amongst men. And you, sir. I do not believe we’ve met. I am Shahzade Munir al Kadir, pleased to be in your presence…”

“Your Majesty!” Count Calbert rose to give Munir a gallant bow. “Shahzade Munir Kadir, the pleasure is truly ours. It is especially wonderful to be graced by your presence this evening.” He gestured to Cassius. “And this is my son, Lord Cassius. “

Cassius gave the Shahzade a charming, yet much more subtle bow than the one his father offered as he introduced himself. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty. During my travels to the Alidasht I heard many tales about you and the royal family. To put a face to the name, and find myself standing among you this evening is quite the honor…I must say.”

John’s arrival followed a few minutes after. A complete coincidence but how fitting is it that he wore the same outfit as when he found Violet with Calbert. Now he wondered if his arrangement tonight was predetermined, but oh well, John is going to have some fun with this.

For now, he kept a neutral friendly face to both Munir and Calbert.

“Good day, gentlemen. I see familiar faces.” John looked over to Munir. “Shahzade Munir. Peace be upon you. I hope you’re doing splendidly.”

Seeing Cassius, John gave him a light bow. “I don’t think we’ve properly met. I am Doctor John Williamson of Varian. Though John suffices.”

Calbert’s eyes fell swiftly on John like a hawk spotting its prey, but the pleased look on his face had not changed. In fact, the count had smiled at the doctor kindly as he allowed the conversation between the younger men to continue.

Offering the good doctor a firm handshake, Cassius responded with a captivating smile of his own. “I remember you from the beach, doctor. It’s wonderful to fully make your acquaintance. I hope we are all prepared for whatever gentlemanly escapades are in store for us this evening. I, for one, am quite ready for a drink.

“Indeed.” Munir offered a short, but curt response. Munir raised his hand and hailed over a waitress “Please bring me a bottle of iced mead, and whatever libations these gentlemen requests” Turning his attention back to the table Munir continued “Please, at least for the event, dispense with the titles. We’re here as men, to have a conversation and share the joys of each other’s company. For the evening at least, I’m simply Munir, a man amongst men.’

“Very lovely to see you again, Doctor.” Calbert finally greeted as well, wearing the same warm smile on his face as always. He turned his attention to a waitress, “A glass of fine brandy, please, madam.”

“Oh, I don’t think any of us are lacking gentlemanliness here.” John gave a mostly harmless and positive joke, as he accepted Cassius’s invitation, his handshake weaker than Cassius’s, but still firm. “Very lovely to see you again too in much better circumstances.” He greeted Calbert back with a genuine and charming smile.

“An apple cider, please.” John made the order short without looking at the menu. Given their light bow before departure, they had it.

Cassius greeted the waitress with a sly grin. The two shared a knowing glance as it was the same woman he had been chatting with upon entering the cabaret. Putting his menu down, his eyes traveled between each of the gentlemen at the table before giving his order. “Tonight feels like bourbon. And love, please bring the bottle.” As the waitress took her leave, Cas addressed the table once more. “A Prince, a Count, a Doctor, and a Bastard walk into a bar…sounds like the setup for a terrible joke.” He stated with an amused smirk.

“I thought we were dispensing with any titles this evening, Cassius. Yes, our lives are as different as the drinks we’ve ordered, but we need not discuss that, I feel. We’re simply here to enjoy one another’s company, no?” Munir quipped, leaning back lightly against the finely appointed leather chair. Munir also took the moment to survey his surroundings, to take in the decor of the place. Back home, places like this would have light music playing from a live band, lively conversations being shared among patrons, drinks of all types being consumed and flavored herbs being smoked. Munir’s name, and his tab, at these establishments, were stuff of legends. Not simply because he is the prince, but also how he conducts himself. This specific establishment, while similar in decor and atmosphere, was unknown to Munir. He had been so focused on one specific person these past few days that he did not really take the time to familiarize himself with the sights and sounds of the city.

“Of course, Munir. It was but a humorous thought. In truth, I am glad those of us from different worlds can gather here and simply enjoy a nice drink as well as the comradery that comes with it.” Cassius quipped back. “Speaking of comradery…shall I offer some congratulations? I believe I read in the paper that courting season is going rather well for one Munir Ibn Raif al-Kadir, is that correct or just more tabloid rumors?”

By this time, the waitress had quietly dropped off their drinks of choice. Munir picked up a glass of iced mead and took a small, but still very refreshing, sip. “Mm. It’s just rumors, I assure you. I’m here just to enjoy the season and all that it has to offer.” Munir responded with a dry smile. Setting his drink down, Munir continued “I must say, having ventured North on my father’s orders, this trip thus far has been eye opening. All this Northern hospitality, and the beauty, you know what I mean. “ Munir finished with a sly smirk.

John’s drink was dropped off, but he took out his handkerchief and cleaned his hand, then he leaned his cheek on his hand holding the handkerchief.“I’m glad to know you are impressed, Munir. I too am impressed, even as locals. The terrain is like that in myths and fairy tales, without the unicorn, the fairies.” Only then would he take a sip of his cider. “Have you passed by my hometown, Kolonivka?”

After giving Munir a knowing smile and wink in understanding, Cassius cut in with gentle enthusiasm. “Ah, Kolonivka. I spent time there during the solstice. There are few things more magical than a proper Varian celebration. Never saw the spirits myself, but that feast was special.” He commented, leaving out the fact that he had been there on a contract with the Wolves to subdue and interrogate a rather vile human being that ended in the man finding himself in a rather icy grave.

“Mm. Yes. No, John, I have not been to Kolonivka. I do wish to make a trip there sooner rather than later. Such wild country, what with all the snow and wind. That begs the question. Have you gentlemen been to the Land of Sand and Sun?” Munir said after taking a small sip of his iced mead, the cooled honey wine flowing through his chest, bringing about a sense of joy and the taste of sweetness. At the mention of Kolonivka, Munir did his very best to hide his frown, having recently been through the ordeal with Mina and Count Sebastian…

“Hmm, glad to hear we have been treating you well.” John said, letting the flow of the conversation dry up his throat a little more. “Not yet, but your openness has been encouraging me to take a personal visit myself, although…” He swirled his hand, gesturing towards his overly stuffed attire. “I’d imagine I would need to be more careful.”

His jokes aside, “I’m planning a vacation there to coincide with their, I believe it’s called, Sands of Unity Festival. I’ve heard that scientists of both our kingdoms are predicting a comet coinciding either in the evening of Ventu 15 or early morning of Ventu 16.” It would also be a great time to be learning about Alidasht astronomy. Their desert lands were home to a lot of beautiful astronomical events.

“And as for me…” Cassius stated, beginning to answer Munir’s question. “I have graced the Alidasht with my presence a few times over the years. The natural beauty of your land is almost unparalleled in my humble opinion. And the good doctor is right…I spent a few months under contract quelling a trade dispute that turned far bloodier than necessary, and even amongst that chaos I could not help but be in awe of that magnificent desert sky every night as I laid my body down.”

“Under contract you say. You’ve stopped some bloody trade disputes? While I’m glad you were in the employ of someone else, I wish you had brought that to the attention of the law enforcement we have in place in Alidasht, Mr.Cassius Vael.” Munir said, tone slightly different as it seems to him that Cassius implied that he had killed folks during his quelling of the bloody trade dispute. However, given the current atmosphere, Munir left the matter at that, deciding not to pursue it further.

“You seem quite the traveler, Mr. Cassius. Quite a negotiator too.” He said, laying his cheek on his palm. “May I ask what you do exactly?”

The doctor was also curious about the Bastard label he gave himself earlier too, but he decided to keep quiet on that for now.
2x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by Helo
Raw
Avatar of Helo

Helo Wonderlust King

Member Seen 1 day ago



Time: Evening
Location: Amusement Park & Circus
Interactions: none



“Test your aim! Test your luck! Ladies and Gentlemen step right up to Sorain Shootout! Six shots is all you need to leave here a winner!”

The line inched forward as someone stepped up for their turn to fire at the target. The colorfully dressed man who ran the game continued to address the crowd.

Rohit buzzed with excitement as he realized his turn was next. His weight shifted from foot to foot like an excited child. He turned back to the person behind him, his line buddy for the past several minutes. “...So there’s a loose fugitive, a crazed Duke, and a manbear that throws parties in the woods with drugged drinks!”

“And a disturbed Prince who eats onions while courting.” His line buddy added. “And a knife-wielding maniac who hates free pancakes!”

“That can’t be true! Who hates pancakes?” Rohit asked but his line buddy only shrugged while nodding his agreement.

“Sorian is the strangest city I have ever set foot upon.” The man was a traveling merchant from a small village in the south of Varian who made his living selling high-end clothing. He had a wife and three children and an ear for gossip, but for the life of him, Rohit could not remember the man’s name. They’d also been chatting for long enough that Rohit did not want to ask for it again. Three times felt like too many to ask someone for their name.

The man continued to catch Rohit up on all of Sorain’s most sordid affairs, and Rohit listened intently. He fidgeted with the gold and jade ring, the jade spun around the gold it rested on as it calmed his excessive energy.

The person whose turn it was fired their final shot, just barely grazing the white of the target and missing out on a prize.

“That’s some bad luck.” His line buddy paused his tale of the Harlot of Veirmont to comment on the game.

Nearby a small child began to cry. Both he and his line buddy turned to look at the child who stood next to a scoop of ice cream melting into the boardwalk while holding an empty cone.

“And that is tragic luck.” Rohit added. “Just watch, my luck never fails.” He patted his new friend on the back before stepping forward for his shot at the target.

Rohit couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a stroke of bad luck. He thought about it as he lifted the game’s rifle. Not a treat lost to gravity, never tripped over his own feet, and he always did well at games of chance.

His six shots rang out, a tight trio in the bullseye and a few that strayed into the yellow and blue. It was effortless and the large fluffy stuffed cat felt almost unearned. He gave to his line buddy to take home, a gift for his children. Rohit decided this game, like most games, was simply too easy to be much fun.
2x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Helo
Raw
Avatar of Helo

Helo Wonderlust King

Member Seen 1 day ago


Time: Night
Location: The Dungeon
Interactions: Ari@Tpartywithzombi



Callum didn’t like the basement floor of the palace. It had that old and damp creepy smell, shadows danced everywhere you looked, and rats scurried around the floors. Something about the air down there made the hair on the back of his neck rise with warnings. But after last night he doubted anything could compare with the amalgamation of horrid feelings he’d experienced in Wystan’s room. He shuddered even thinking about it, but it made the descent down those basement stairs easier.

None of the guards stopped him, they watched, a couple of them followed and he guessed they were going to make sure he wasn’t trying to free Ari. He wasn’t, he just didn’t want her to suffer down her alone. And he didn’t want to be alone, or sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw it, the thing from last night. Every time it was too quiet, he heard it, all that screaming…

He tried to stop thinking about it. Instead, he focused on keeping an eye out for rats, the dungeon rats were known biters and it would be nice to get through one night this week without an injury. He stopped by the wine cellar first, grabbing a dusty bottle from the room he’d once spent hours psyching himself up to sneak into as a kid. This time he grabbed two bottles, it was going to be a long night.

Once he found his way to Ari’s cell, and the redheaded curled up on a sad pile of straw was hard to miss, he tapped on the cell bars with the wine bottles. “You look miserable! And I hear misery loves company.” He said as he sat the wine bottles down and removed his shoes for the second time that night. He stuffed the end of one bottle into a shoe and smacked it against the stone wall.

“You didn’t think,” he hit the bottle against the wall a few times. “I’d let you suffer down here alone?” The bottle smacked against the wall a few more times. “Didya?” He pulled the cork the rest of the way out with his teeth and spat the cork on the ground. He then did the same with the second bottle before offering a bottle to Ari between the bars of the cell.

“I’ve got wine, a deck of cards, and secrets to share. Ya know, if you’re bored.” He whispered.

Callum spent a good portion of the night whispering the details of the previous night to Ari. He plans to search the castle for hidden rooms, how he found the hidden room in Wystan’s room, and what all was found there. How he’d almost put a strange crown on his head, how he’d felt that crown’s dark pull, but he’d left with a cursed scroll and magic compass.

He mentioned he had help, but didn’t give up Riona’s name, not because he didn’t trust Ariella. Riona’s involvement and use of magic just weren’t his secrets to tell. He mentioned the weird intruder, maybe exaggerating his own usefulness in the fight between them, and the curse scroll that had been stolen, but not before he’d used it once. Not before he’d felt what it was like to burn. The weird plot twist; that the intruder might not have been an assassin but a potential ally, who at least gave him and his unnamed accomplice a healing potion before disappearing into the night.

He left the dungeon in the morning, a few shared bottles of wine later, when guards fetched him to join in on a family meeting.

4x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago

Count Calbert Damien, Cassius Vael, Shahzade Munir al-Kadir, Doctor John Williamson

Part 2



His eyes traveled between the two men as his response was for them both. “Indeed, I’ve left boot prints across Eromora. There are few lands that I have not witnessed with my own eyes, and those that have eluded me thus far will not do so forever. You see, until recently, I was among the top sellswords in the world…a member of the Iron Wolves mercenary company. I know it isn’t humble of me to say so, but I was the best in the world at what I did.” Cassius explained, confidence and conviction spewing from every word. His focus turned more specifically to Munir as he continued. “And trust me, things such as these disputes rarely happen without the authorities being in the know. These oligarchal merchants think of themselves as princes in your deserts, and their pockets may as well be bottomless pits of endless wealth. It’s just the way of these things, my friend.”

“True enough, I suppose, Mr. Cassius.” Munir’s tone a little colder and quieter than before. It is true that trade disputes happen all the time and peasants die by the droves daily. Such is the harsh reality of the world. Munir also understands that the enforcers of the laws of his country, while numerous and adept at their work, cannot cover all corners of the kingdom. Certain things are surely to slip under their ever-watchful gaze and go unheard. However, the accusations of the authorities being in the know but doing nothing about it and the merchants essentially benefitting from bloodshed does not sit lightly with Munir. But, having an understanding of the environment he is in, he decided to accept that answer for now, and bring it up with his father, and perhaps his cousin Farim, later.

“Such as it is the way of the world, I suppose. You know, I wonder how it would be to live life constantly on the move, and also having to be in consistent danger. That sort of life cannot be easy, yes?” Munir said, genuinely wondering how Cassius carries on with his day to day.

John sat watching the two men converse about their occupation. Two very different men, the rich and powerful versus a so-called lowly sellsword, or mercenary as the legal term dictated. His attention was piqued at the mention of being in constant danger, how it must have felt for this prince. For John, he wasn’t constantly on the move, but being in constant danger was a common thing. Even though hospitals are known to be a place of nurture and saving lives, it is also quite dangerous. Diseased individuals are everywhere, and one is always at a high risk of suffering with them. Not to mention sometimes doing disease control work is always ‘fun and exciting’.

But there is also another kind of being in constant danger.

John nonchalantly glanced over to Count Calbert, who had been sitting mostly quiet for the time being. He knew the guy wanted to make a move on the doctor. What could he be thinking right now? Even more, what is this guy like as a person?

“Count Damien, we haven’t had the opportunity to know each other better. Do you have any hobbies you would like to share?” He probed. ““I play board games in my free time. Chess and backgammon being my favorite.”

Noticing the shifting of Munir’s tone, Cassius could not help but wonder if the Shahzade had been raised to see his own nation through rose-tinted glasses. It had been his experience that those with a stake in sovereignty and its design often found their fingers off the pulse of reality. Truly interesting, though, considering he had assumed that a man of Munir’s specific brand of reputation would see through the cracks and façades of authority. Perhaps he did, however, something about this topic certainly struck a chord with the man all the same.

“Indeed, easy is not a word that I would use to describe such a life. Though it was thrilling, fulfilling at times, and dangerous at every turn… It taught me more about this world than any book or orator ever could.” In truth, it had not even been that long since Cassius had left that life, yet already something about it felt as though it was a lifetime ago. “But now I find myself enraptured by an entirely different purpose. One with which feels rather foreign to me still…yet perhaps just as perilous in its own ways. I wager a man like me could learn a thing or two from someone such as yourself, Munir.”

"Ah, games are a delightful pastime, aren't they? I am an avid lover of games." Calbert replied with a smooth smile. "Chess, cards... they offer a certain strategic pleasure, don't you agree?" He leaned back slightly, his eyes glinting with interest. "Beyond that, I find hunting, falconry, and fencing to be rather stimulating pursuits."

With a measured pause, he folded his hands, directing his gaze towards John. "Tell me, Doctor, have you been engaging in chess for long?”

Munir nodded along, taking occasional sips from his cup as the count talked about some of his hobbies. It seems the games played are similar across the world, as Munir himself is familiar with the games being mentioned. However, when the count mentioned falconry and hunting, Munir leaned in a little more than before, having more interest in those activities than the less active games the good doctor had mentioned. “No no, Cassius, I have no lessons to offer as I am but a mere student myself. I’m still learning and stumbling through these perils you mentioned.” Munir responded to Cassius’s previous statement.

“It certainly does!” John pointed at Calbert in agreement. “It keeps your brain active, and it gives you that sense of pleasure beating your opponents, like you said. I’ve played recreationally against the common folks in my hometown, and I’m telling you, they’re pretty strong.”

Munir didn’t seem particularly interested. John would like to inquire about the Alidasht variation of chess, in which the pawn’s initial two-step move was absent, whereas Sorian and Varian chess had it. En passant and castling were also removed, so Alidasht players tended to play slower but more decisively than normal players. If they liked to entertain that, it could be a nice thing to keep the conversation going, but for now, it’s Calbert.

“Though I don’t play it professionally or anything. It’s hard to make it in chess, not worth the free time I barely have.” John said, finishing the rest of his drink, pondering if he should ask for more. “The players…also have a warped sense of intelligence too, from what I’ve seen. It’s not a quality I admire.”

“Ah, Doctor Williamson, I can see your view. ” Calbert began, his voice carrying a warm, inviting timbre. He adjusted his posture slightly. “Many do mistake their intelligence after a few fleeting victories, as with many games not limited to chess… However…True mastery of chess does not merely arise from memorizing strategies or securing those fleeting victories. It requires an astute understanding of one’s adversary and the finesse to anticipate moves not yet made. Excellence, therefore, lies not within the confines of the board but in the nimbleness of thought and the depth of perception. I dare say this mindset applies to much more than chess, perhaps life itself...”

He grinned at John, ”I find it quite riveting to deduce an opponent’s tactics and predict their next moves. It’s akin to understanding the deeper layers beneath surface interactions, wouldn’t you agree?”

His question hung in the air a moment before Calbert turned his attention to the wider group. “And speaking of layers and strategies, I’m curious about how everyone’s courting endeavors are faring this season. It’s a game of hearts, after all, isn’t it? Each of you playing your part on a grand emotional chessboard. How have you gentlemen found the experience?”

Cassius gave a nod to Munir’s response and then leaned back in his chair, swirling his bourbon thoughtfully as he considered Calbert’s question. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Ah, the game of hearts,” Cassius began, his voice dripping with a blend of sarcasm and charm. “I suppose it’s a game much like chess in its own right…though instead of pieces on a board, you’re maneuvering emotions and pairings that could last a lifetime… No pressure, right?” He smiled and took a sip of his bourbon, savoring the burn before continuing.

“You know… I have been a fortunate man to learn such a great deal about the arts of pleasure and seduction from all corners of this world. But this... this dance of courtship and marriage somehow feels foreign to me. In honesty, I’ve yet to come to terms with my true thoughts on the matter. It is, however, something I imagine is now expected of me.” He stated, turning his gaze to meet his father’s eyes. As he spoke, his mind occasionally became flooded with thoughts of one particular woman, but he forced clarity and wore his alluring smile with pride.

“I expect that it would do you well, Cassius. The world is always easier to take on with a partner in hand… However, I do not expect you to rush your pace or your life for my sake.”

“Mm. Yes. A game of hearts indeed. As I am not first in line to inherit the Sun Throne, I would say I’ve had an easy go at it.” Munir quipped briefly. “All of this palace intrigue, all of this gossiping and spreading of rumors of who was seen strolling the gardens with who and who approached who during the evening’s ball surely has its appeals but to me, it is just that. Rumors and gossip. For me, as you gentlemen may have known given my reputation, I’m simply here for the festivities and to broaden my own horizons. I do not believe I will find a wife this season.” Munir’s tone was a little drier than usual as he ended his sentence.

Taking a sip of his iced mead, he gave a small pause to the conversation before continuing, tone lighter once again. “With what has already taken place, I feel as if I’ve experienced enough and I can return to Alidasht a smarter man than before. However, I don’t think my father would be very pleased with me if I just went home, back to the sands and sun. So here I am, in the company of fine gentlemen like yourselves” Yes. Munir was babbling at this point. His mind kept turning towards Mina, and what has recently taken place.
It ached him to have said what he just said. To not be able to loudly announce his feelings and having to redon his armor of being a rake and one who is simply here for his own pleasure.

“It does. Watching my opponent suffer does give satisfaction…” John enigmatically said. “Games of hearts aren’t as similar though. I don’t deceive or break people psychologically.”

Calbert simply chuckled at John’s response.

Cassius didn’t give much indication to what was going on. It seemed like he had someone in mind, explaining why he felt that way. As for Munir, he tried his best, but John could sense the salt dripping from his words. There was one woman John knew he was dabbling with.

“Hmm, I find it…enlightening.” John stared at nobody in particular. “Overtime, I see every woman I met as a potential romance partner, but more like people that need company. A friend you may call it. Life in a castle can be lonely. And if they want to proceed from there, they can.”

“I don’t have the same pressure to find a loved one as you gentlemen though, but isn’t it a good thing though, that your wife is also your best friend.”

“Indeed, gentlemen. The courting season is still very early.”

2x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago

Olivia, Charlotte, & Zarai


Mention:@ReusableSword Roman



After what felt like a small eternity of loud iron and wood creaking under them like a roaring dragon soaring through the skies that almost drowned out their screams, the ride was over. As the cart came to a jumpy stop and the wooden groans under them as everyone got off, Zarai offered her hand to Olivia once she was out.

“That was… so fun!” Zarai said once they were out of the cart and on the main walkway. “Should we search for Charlotte, or should we let her cozy up to Lord Ravenwood?” She arched an eyebrow at Olivia, wiggling it with a knowing smile.

If Olivia's eyes could have popped out of their sockets, they would have. The thrill she had experienced was unmatched. Olivia had held her breath throughout the ride and now released it. She took Zarai’s hand and turned to her. The corners of her mouth were beginning to hurt from smiling. ”That was fucking awesome!” She exclaimed. A few nobles glared at her, but she ignored them. ”That was the best thing ever!”

At the mention of Charlotte, Olivia snickered. ”Dear me. I would hate to interrupt such a lovely discussion. Maybe we should see what those fuckers are up to now. I don’t wanna leave her behind.”

Olivia led Zarai off the rollercoaster platform and toward where they had seen Charlotte last. She glanced around and then shouted, ”Charlie Harlie!” This did nothing to improve the glares she received, which she stubbornly ignored.

Charlotte hurried over to where Olivia and Zarai were standing, “Livvy Bivvy!”She remarked with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and her eyes slid to Zarai. “And Zarai… My pie!” After a brief giggle at her own joke, she asked, “How was the ride, girls? …Was it thrilling?”

”Thrilling down to the bones!” Zarai grinned back, hooking her arm with Charlotte and motioning for Olivia to do the same on the lady’s other side. ”So, was your talk just as exciting?” She teased as she wiggled her right brow at her.

When Charlie used her nickname, Liv grinned, and listened eagerly to her friend speak. Once it was her turn, her eyes widened even more if possible. ”Fucking. Awesome!” Olivia exclaimed and punched the air. She looped her arm through Zarai’s and Charlotte's so she would be sandwiched between them. She faced the ladies and grinned. ”Well give us the details and leave nothin’ out.”

Charlotte's eyes followed Olivia’s raised fist, her lips curling into a delighted smile as she caught the contagious enthusiasm from her companions. She then looked between the girls with a graceful nod, “Well, I must say it went rather well. I wanted to ensure he was in good spirits, and indeed, he appeared just that.” Her expression softened slightly, and she folded her hands, her brow furrowing in genuine concern. “What was written about Lord Ravenwood in this morning's paper was positively bizarre... They claimed he charged at the city guards during his own ceremony. Can you imagine? It simply doesn’t align with the character of the gentleman we know him to be.”

”Those papers are often filled with exaggerated, twisted, and ill-intend events made only to ramp up sales with sensationalized events.” Zarai exclaimed, shaking her head tightly and rapidly. ”Lord Ravenwood is like a nice bear, like the ones that eat bread and sunbathe. He’d never do such a thing!” Her nostrils flared up, and the corners of her lips turned down as her mind continued to run laps. ”They are just a bunch of nasty gremlins who dishonor the very nature of journalism. Just nasty gossip!”

Olivia listened to both Charlie and Zarai with contemplation. Roman acted so differently than what Charlie had described. Hadn’t he mentioned the ceremony to her? She struggled to remember but let it go for now. In the back of her mind, she remembered reading the papers they’d find in trash bins and laughing at what was written. Now that she was hanging out with the nobles, Liv scowled and clenched her fists. It was injustice; the way they twisted everything was nothing more than pure garbage and the worst of Sorian. Olivia nodded in agreement with both of them.

”Bunch of bullshit if you ask me, like some of the people in this stupid fuckin’ city.” Liv remarked. A smile appeared on her face as she sought to lighten the mood. ”We shouldn’t be focusin’ on the lowlives of Sorian. Let’s go have some fuckin FUN!” She let out a loud cheer. It earned her a few glares- Olivia responded by sticking her tongue out at them. She giggled and turned back to the girls after the disgusted reactions.

Charlotte giggled, amused by the two girls, especially by Zarai’s statement. “A bear eating bread? That’s a funny little idea! Have you perhaps witnessed such a sight before?” Her gaze slid to Olivia and she smiled warmly. “Oh yes! The night is young, isn’t she? Now let’s see…” She clasped her hands together thoughtfully, her eyes scanning the lively scene around them.

“We could partake in a ride upon the ferris wheel, enjoy the thrill of the bumper boats, or perhaps engage in some games of chance…” She trailed off, rising onto her tiptoes as she twirled slowly in place, surveying their options. Her gaze eventually settled on a nearby outdoor bar along the boardwalk, and then on a small folk band playing to an eager crowd that had gathered to dance. “Or, we might stroll along the boardwalk and immerse ourselves in the music of that charming band.”

”I’m keen to the idea of strolling past the band for a short break. What do you think, Olivia? We couuuld get something to snack on along the way.” Zarai’s stomach growled quietly, thankfully the sound of chatter and laughter covered it up. ”Have you ladies seen those giant turkey legs? Don’t they scream ‘eat me!’?” She could already taste it, ”Or should be go for something sweet?” Funnel cake was something else she longed to try.

Charlotte’s eyes lit up with delight as she giggled again, “I hear them! The turkey legs are calling to you, Zarai! ‘Come, eat me, I’m warm and delicious!’” Her voice carried a playful note.

Olivia contemplated their remarks. She glanced around the loud amusement park and the nearby beach and boardwalk. The amusement park was loud and thrilling, though she could tell Charlie wasn’t an adrenaline rush fan. Perhaps they could get her to ride something later? ”The band might be a nice break - the crowd looks fun- buuut I definitely could go for food first!” She glanced at Zarai’s stomach who rumbled and grinned. Olivia could almost taste the food now as her gaze wandered back to it. A glossy look covered her eyes. There. Was. So. Much. Food! She had to stop herself from wandering over to it.

”We can get BOTH the funnel cake and the turkey leg, whaddya think? And if that’s too much food at once we can get one now and open later! I think the boardwalk and beach would be fun!” The noise from the amusement park, coupled with the sudden feeling of starvation, were becoming too much for her. She glanced at Charlotte and then to the food vendors.

Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with delight as she clasped her hands together, a sweet smile spreading across her lips. “Yes, let’s go! I shall indulge in some cotton candy!” She giggled softly.

Zarai’s chest swelled in her as the corners of her vision began to slowly blur like frost on her windows during a winter morning. This is all I ask for. She thought to herself, smile drooping to the side just a tad as they made it towards the source of those warm and delicious turkey legs.

Later, as the trio found themselves on the dock. The soft sounds of the water lapping against the wood created a peaceful backdrop. The gentle breeze carried the salty scent of the sea, and the moon cast a silver glow on the surface of the water, making it shimmer.

Behind them, the folk band had transitioned into a lively jig. The dock beneath them creaked softly with each movement of the people dancing behind them.

Charlotte leaned against the railing, a stick of cotton candy in one hand and a blissful expression on her face. She took a bite, her eyes closing briefly as the sugar coated her tongue, “Mmm, I love these yummy little clouds,” she murmured, her voice filled with quiet joy.

She glanced over at Olivia and Zarai, who were both enjoying their own snacks, and her heart swelled with contentment. “There’s something so magical about this, isn’t there?” she said softly, her gaze drifting out over the water. “… It’s as if we’ve stepped into one of those perfect moments you find in books, the kind you wish could last forever.”

Things had been insane, to say the least, lately in Charlotte’s life, but tonight, in the warm summer air, she had made a conscious decision to ignore it all for a moment and hold on to hope. And at the least, by staying with Olivia tonight, she knew she was safe. All she could do was hope that everyone else was too.

After that, the girls spent the night chatting away. At one point, they sprang up to dance, twirling in a joyful circle with their arms entwined.


3x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by princess
Raw
coGM
Avatar of princess

princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago

Count Landon Monet, Prince Wulfric Danrose, Lord Leo Smithwood, Count Fritz “Ryn” Hendrix, Lord Drake Edwards


Part 3


After those exchanges, there was a prolonged moment of silence brought upon by the heavier topic. The atmosphere did lighten a tad once Count Hendrix’s order arrived, since the group was momentarily occupied by sharing the snacks and hot beverages. Though the Varian count had ordered nothing pastry related, two snickerdoodles arrived with the order nonetheless. Wulfric felt his lips twitch into an amused smirk as he met Fritz’s gaze. The man returned the smirk, shrugged, and took a bite out of one without comment. “I still owe you all a strange experience, do I not?” he questioned rhetorically. He had tried a sip of spiced apple cider. It was a sweeter drink than he’d usually prefer, but he had picked it for variety’s sake.

“My anecdote is from ten years ago, and it takes place one night in Kimoon. It was a week or two before the Festival of Lights. I was on the way to Qishu for the festival, but the preparations for it were already in full swing across the whole region.” His eyes briefly closed as he recalled that festive atmosphere. “From the tiniest of villages, to the remotest of shrines, and even to the densest of forests, they all saw unusual activity. Lanterns were being painted and set up, candles were carved into most intricate designs, children and adults of all ages worked together to create wondrous ornaments.” He took another sip, pausing long enough to allow the men to imagine the scene he was describing.

“So, one evening, I was taking a walk, as I was wont to do. It was in the middle of a lively night market which had stalls set along the road stretching well past the city proper, drawing in far more guests than usual. Merchants were hollering at each turn to advertise their wares, buyers were haggling, youths were being rowdy, drunkards were singing or getting into fights. The usual,” a faint fond half-smile formed. “Then…” his voice lowered, building anticipation. “I took a turn into an alleyway, and it was just like any other alleyway. And yet,” he suddenly snapped his fingers, a loud and startling sound contrasting to the quiet, suspenseful cadence his words had taken. “Between one step and the next, in between one moment and the following one, on the way from one path to another. Just like that, all of that sound - gone. All of the people, gone.”

Wulfric’s smile appeared more sinister as he leaned in to continue the thrilling tale.

Drake’s eyes narrowed as his lips curled upward. “Preposterous! You mean to say everyone just vanished?” The young man spoke in honest surprise - albeit perhaps a touch exaggerated by the nature of the tale and his level of intoxication.

Leo’s attention remained on Wulfric. Finally, the sort of story he’d hoped for albeit not one of Caesonian strangeness but an odd tale nonetheless. His eyes widened slightly at the snap of the prince’s fingers. “And where was it this alleyway had taken you?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” the prince chuckled deeply. “Everyone had disappeared. Each and every living soul vanished, except for myself. The oddest thing was that I was still in that very same town - or so it appeared. Naturally, my first reaction was to stop and look around. The way I’d come from looked the same as far as I could tell, except uninhabited. There were the same stalls I’d passed by, the same inns and taverns, the same homes and street signs. Even the wares on sale were at least convincingly similar. I had retraced my steps of the past few minutes, but…” he shrugged. “Somewhere along the way, it was as if the paths conspired against me, turned me around, and I ended up where I’d begun at the ‘vanishing’ point.”

“Therefore, I proceeded onwards. I walked along unfamiliar streets, turning around ever new corners. Initially, there was an eerie silence, the only sounds my echoing footfalls, my overly loud breathing and racing heartbeat. I heard no animals, no people, not even the creaking of buildings or the crackling of fire…” Idly, he leaned back into his seat, momentarily canting his head up as if recalling the details. Then, with a secretive smile, he looked from man to man. “It was as if the world’s own voice had been kidnapped, and I feared I might lose mine as well.” He took another sip of his drink.

“While its disappearance had been abrupt and total, sound returned in strange, startling increments. First, the howling of winds. Then, the jingling of dozens of wind chimes. The rustling of leaves, the call of an owl, the rattling of window shutters. The farther I went, the more I heard, though there was nary a sight of anyone. Coins clinked as if trade were still taking place, the whispers of inaudible conversations flickered into and out of existence. High pitched laughter here and there, a knock on a nearby door, the spine-chilling brush of a breeze as if a presence had passed me by. It was like someone or something was playing tricks on me, though I did not feel as if it was all only a product of my mind.”

Wulfric poured himself a glass of water, abandoning the sweet apple cider for something cooler and more refreshing. “I exited the city, but the carts, the wagons, the stalls and the tents appeared to extend far, far beyond… I caught sight of a great forest to the left, a lake I knew to be unending to the right.” Closing his eyes, he savored another mouthful of water. “A myriad of blue fireflies swirled by, cavorting carelessly. The eternal firmament pressed down, at once freeing and oppressive. I stared up at all those stars, glimpsing utterly alien constellations, and realized ‘Ah, this is another world’. As soon as I had that thought, I was…returned, for a lack of a better world. Imagine my complete and utter befuddlement when I found myself at the next village over, and it was the dawn of the following morning,” he laughed a tad dryly as he shook his head.

“And this really happened?” Leo asked. It was almost unbelievable except for the convincing sincerity in Wulfric’s voice and demeanor. “Were you drugged?” He immediately followed up his question with the only logical explanation he could think of. Unless this strange occurrence was related to magic, not a topic he was willing to bring up at the table.

“As far as I could tell, it did,” his shoulder twitched in a tiny shrug. “I was not drugged according to the local physicians, but that certainly was one of the explanations I considered.”

“Pfft. Count Monet made a noise under his breath as he glared down at the table for no apparent reason. It was not hard to deduce he did not believe the prince’s story but it was also questionable if he had even heard the whole thing as he kept occasionally glaring at a man across the room, who was scowling back at him.

“Is that someone you know, Count Monet?” Ryn asked.

Drake was still enamored with the story that he hardly noticed Monet’s demeanor until Fritz had brought it up. Perhaps the Lord had a few too many drinks at this point to be missing such obvious social cues but he had been through quite a night. So he gestured for his glass to be topped with some fine whiskey and leaned forward to speak in a hushed tone.
“Your story borders, nay, is paramount to the supernatural. What an experience! I am tempted to visit such a place myself one day.” His eyes wandered over to Count Monet. “Something troubling you, good sir?”

“No... The count said and finished off his whiskey, throwing his head back as he had done so.

“Did you ever figure out,” Leo glanced over at the man Count Monet kept looking at. “What happened, how…” The other man mirrored Monet’s soured face. “You’ve been weird all night, Landon, what’s going on?” Leo asked as he signaled for his and Monet’s glasses to be filled too.

“Weird? I have not been weird.” Landon retorted rather defensively. “You’re the one that looks like a flamingo.”
“Not quite,” Wulfric answered Lord Leo. Then, he regarded their drunk surly companion. “Count Monet, you and that stranger are raring to go at each other.” Idly, the prince wondered if it was to fuck or to fight…maybe both.

“So why not do it? Challenge the fellow to a duel,” he voiced the socially acceptable option. “I would not recommend fighting drunk, but at the very least you have sober company to prevent the worst.” Who knew, maybe they would get a little something extra to spice up their evening.

Ryn, however, felt a pang of sympathy for the hapless stranger—an innocent victim of an ill-timed glance or cunning provocateur. Regardless, a duel with a drunken count surely had not been penciled into anyone’s evening plans. Inwardly, he braced himself for whatever chaos might ensue.

”A duel without context is a dangerous endeavor, Wulfric. Even if I am admittedly interested in the mysterious nature of our supposed watcher. Landon - be this enemy, rival, or stranger?” Drake posed his question, drink in hand already half emptied.

Leo smacked an open palm to the table. “Excellent idea! This summer is overdue for a proper duel. Landon, if you need a second, I’m in.” The young lord wore a broad smile at the idea, it was exactly what the night needed. “Maybe a victory is exactly what you need to resolve your strange mood.” He added, raising his glass to Monet before drinking.

Count Landon Monet’s face flushed a deeper shade of red with each passing second as he listened, barely containing his anger. Suddenly, with a loud scrape of chair against the wood floor, he surged to his feet, nearly knocking over his drink in the process. Eyes blazing and nostrils flaring, he stormed over to the well-dressed man who had earlier dared to compare him to his despised father.

Loudly, Landon began his drunken, aggressive rant. “Ow dare you! Ow dare you compare me to zat man?" he shouted, jabbing a finger towards the man’s chest. “I am nozzing like 'im! Nozzing!" His voice escalated with each word.
Landon loomed over the man, his face inches away, his breath heavy with the scent of whiskey. “You zink you know me? You zink you know what I am or 'oo I am because of 'im?" His words slurred together as he ranted.

The man tried to back away, but Landon grabbed his collar, pulling him close.
“Lizzen well, monsieur, because I will not say zis again. I am Count Landon Monet!" His grip tightened, the fabric of the man's shirt twisting in his clenched fist.

“My…” Wulfric raised an eyebrow at the sudden outburst. He had judged the count drunk enough that he might entertain the notion of a duel, but hadn’t expected such a vitriolic attack. If the other gentleman reacted similarly, the two idiots were bound to cause far too much trouble indoors. With a sigh, the prince smoothly stood up, and strode up to the two. “Now, now,” he laid a calming hand on Monet’s offending arm, urging him to let go. “If you intend to fight, then issue a proper challenge and step outside,” he stated firmly, and took a moment to observe the stranger’s reaction. “If you care at all for your image and reputation, you ought to observe the proper protocols for a duel. Without that, your actions would be but a lowly assault. However, you are a better man than that, are you not?” he smiled at the count, sharp and cool.
Drake furrowed his brows and sighed. Even with the creeping buzz of the alcohol he felt himself more rational than what he was witnessing. The man finished his drink and stood up - a slight terse tone to his voice. “If you are so drawn to fisticuffs then I would heed the Prince’s warning, Count Monet.” He decided to ignore that he was more or less brushed off and focus more on trying to contain whatever brawl may erupt in a place like this.
Leo stood and followed behind Drake, drink in hand. “Well, now we know what’s got Landon all wound up.” He lifted his glass to Drake before drinking. It seemed that Landon would lay down an official challenge or the Count would end up in an embarrassing bar fight. Either way, it would make the night more fun and add pressure on Landon. Served the Count right; Leo hadn’t missed the man coughing ‘cheater’ when he’d won the hand.

“The nerve, to crash Count Monet’s event just to insult the man.“ He added, looking at Drake but speaking loud enough for Landon to overhear.

Landon pushed the man back abruptly, releasing his grip as he straightened up, chest heaving. "A duel, zen! Let us settle zis wiz honor, if you dare!" He declared loudly after receiving the suggestion.

“Oh, absolutely, Count Monet. Dueling in the noble district? What a splendid way to get acquainted with the local guard!” the man retorted.

“Argh!” Landon exhaled sharply, shooting a glance at the Prince and the others before flopping back into his chair with a dramatic sigh. He then snapped his fingers at the waiter, “Bring me a cigar.”

Wulfric hmmed as he eyed the unknown man. “It would be fine if you both agreed to it, if you did not disrupt anyone else, and if it did not result in death or maiming. It is a shame there are no arenas within convenient distance.” His gaze swept the room, considering. “If you were truly intent on doing it, the stage could be cleared. But you two would become quite the spectacle in that case,” he chuckled.

Throughout the exchange, Ryn’s focus remained fixed upon the man who had drawn Count Monet’s ire, observing his every gesture and expression. He stepped forward, one hand raised in polite interjection. “If I might interpose,” he began, “if the aim is to resolve this contention through a decisive contest, must it assume the form of a duel? Given the veritable cornucopia of options at our disposal”—he gestured expansively at the establishment’s offerings—“surely, there are alternatives. But if you gentlemen are intent on a contest of physical mettle…” He adopted a pensive stance, one hand cupping his chin. “Perhaps something like a speed eating contest or arm wrestling?”

The young lord nodded in agreement. “Something that is less likely to….esssscalate into further deadly combat is alwaysssss an alternative in my book. He furrowed his brows as he realized he was hanging onto some of his ‘S’ sounds far longer than he should. “Forgive me. My drink has been heavy tonight. What say you gentleman? Be it arm wrestle, a drinking contest, or an all out brawl. Since this duel of sorts seems inevitable...” Drake clunked his glass onto the table and forced his sobriety to rise for just a moment as he met the two with a straight-faced stare.

“Then you both best stake your honor on it as gentlemen.”

“Eet’s not inevitable! I’m ovair 'im! I am waiting for my cigar.”
Landon snapped. Luckily for Count Monet, the waitress brought over a platter of cigars for all to reach for at that moment. He snatched one up and swiftly bit off the end. After lighting it, he took a long huff, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled.

Leo took his time looking over the remaining cigars. “You’re a more merciful man than I, Landon. I could never let a man continue to slander my name like that.” He said with a shrug as he finally selected the right cigar, carefully trimmed the end of it, and lit it savoring the taste. He tried to exhale his annoyance with Hendrix and Drake for talking the Count out of the duel.

“Oh, well, I suppose it is for the best,” Wulfric commented, slightly disappointed there would be no duel after all. “To a peaceful night,” he toasted with a non-alcoholic drink.

After that near debacle, the party dispersed as each gentleman was drawn to their own activities, whether it was smoking like Landon and Leo, conversing with the guests like the prince, or otherwise finding a way to engage themselves until they chose to depart.

1x Like Like 1x Thank Thank
Hidden 3 mos ago Post by Lava Alckon
Raw
Avatar of Lava Alckon

Lava Alckon

Member Seen 1 mo ago

Farim & Riona Part 3





”As for finding her myself, well I have tried.” Farim shifted the conversation. ”Based on my efforts she is somewhere only he could access or somewhere so remote it would take decades of thorough searching to find her. You are not wrong, though. I can only imagine his venomous little face twisting if I tell him I know where she is.” He laughed for a few breaths, then paused as if lost in contemplation before he continued. ”However he must still answer for what he has done. If I must force it - then I will. One day his reign will end.” The serious tone of his voice quickly shifted as he spoke again. But that will be a story for another time. I must ask - why are you so curious about my state of affairs. I daresay you have inquired more about me in this walk more than some of my own family. Not that I mind - but it does seem a touch curious to me.”

Riona considered the question. Was it really so strange to be curious? No way she was the only person he opened up to about all this stuff. “Perhaps I am simply being nosy.” Or was the familiarity drawing her to learn more about this prince from the Motherland—that place her grandmother had dreamed of but never seen. It was in her blood, that connection, no matter how faint.

“If this is a quest that will take decades, more the reason to act as soon as possible, Your Highness.” She adjusted her grip on the box and asked. “What stays your hand?” If he knew that much about where his mother could be, then why did he stop there? Why wait for some nebulous “one day” when he could make it happen? To find his mother. To punish his father. To put an end to his father’s reign.

Farim gave a coy smile at her suggestion. ”And who says I am not doing such things right at this very moment? Maybe I have multiple, maybe even dozens of collaborators who are helping me in many things. Maybe some of them are even watching us at this very moment in case something were to go south.

The Shehzade made a fair point. His status afforded him resources and reach far beyond what she could imagine. Just because he chose to focus his personal attention on courting Anastasia didn’t mean he hadn’t deployed agents to do his bidding in the shadows. “Then I stand corrected.”

He offered a soft wink in her direction with a chuckle. ”Or maybe I am just all talk. It is not like you would suddenly assault me in the midst of this busy street anyway.”

“... And what makes you so certain of that, Shehzade? ” A bold retort to offer a prince of Alidasht, but the spark of humor that danced in the maid’s eyes made it clear she meant no true threat.

There was a brief pause between the two as their journey had made it most of the way to its destination. Another building came into view as Thara continued to glide overhead while occasionally resting on Farim’s shoulder. The pair stopped outside yet another shop on the woman’s list of duties and continued their conversation. ”I like you, Ríoghnach. You seem fun, friendly to those you like, and … a touch mysterious. But I like such qualities. While there is still time we can continue while you deliver these materials your lord wishes to have.”

Riona set the box she carried down by the shop’s entrance and straightened, brushing a stray curl back from her face. “You honor me, Shehzade. But there is no need for flattery. If you are searching for a diversion until the circus begins.” She gestured to the store in front of them. “You are welcome to join me as I finish my shopping.”

Farim returned a light shrug. There was not much else he was doing so he figured seeing more of what these markets have to offer would be a beneficial arrangement. ”There is never a need for flattery. But it sure is nice is it not?” That same cheeky grin adorned his face as he walked into the store with her. ”What style of furniture are we on the hunt for, young lady?”

In a quiet voice, she said, “... Something that a certain type of noble—the kind possessed of an over-inflated sense of self-importance, who sneers down their nose at people of humble origins—would find utterly beneath them, but that would elicit no end of amusement from anyone who sees their chambers?”

Farim tilted his head in mild confusion and curiosity. But seeing her face as she talked clued him in that this was likely someone who had either wronged her or simply pissed her off. At first he assumed a professional stance, talking plainly as they paroused the shop. ”Now Ríoghnach, it would be quite unseemly of someone like myself to suggest such things and cause any … ruffled feathers amongst the other guests present…” He thought about ending it there - but his childish notions got the better of him as he thinly hid a smirk on his face. ”I could not possibly suggest taking a chair such as that one to this persons chambers…”

His finger gestured at an interestingly designed chair, one that seemed to bow up and out and remained painfully thin at the actual “seat” of the chair. It was clearly meant for decoration, but the unassuming would think it a proper seat and quickly realize their mistake. He continued this faux persona of “not recommending” certain furniture while they shopped around..

Riona hadn’t meant to spend so much time picking out furnishings for the Lordling’s quarters, but time flew when you were having fun. She and Shehzade Farim gleefully dug through the store, determined to find the most impractical and garish junk imaginable to torture Smithwood’s delicate sensibilities. By the time they declared their quest complete, they had a pile of the best of the worst. Riona couldn’t wait to see the look on Smithwood’s face when he laid eyes on their masterpiece of awfulness.

Once outside, the Shehzade picked up on their earlier conversation.

”Your cousin sounds like a good person, by the way. I think him and my old friend Malik would have gotten along, had they ever the chance to meet.” Thara made a swooping pass just above his head as they talked, possibly frightening a couple passersby. However Farim did not flinch as the falcon continued forward in its exploratory flight. ”The world could use less أهبل (assholes).” He boldly proclaimed, playing on the curse word she had said prior.

Riona matched his smile. She couldn’t agree more. Maybe in a world with less أهبل she could’ve become someone softer, kinder; a person without so many thorns and rough edges. Her smile clouded.

“I am afraid Malik and my cousin will have to wait until they both cross the great divide to become properly acquainted, Shehzade.” she said. “The cousin I speak of passed on some years ago.” From the way Shehzade Farim spoke of his friend Malik in the past tense, she suspected that he might not be alive either.

Farim sighed. ”Well if he is gone then perhaps they have already met. My friend died many years ago, when we were children. It was a terrible … accident.” He shared, making sure not to spill too much on just what ended his friend. The man’s face was one of concern and regret as he thought about it. Thara, sensing the shift in body language, flew back down to his shoulder and gave his cheek a light and gentle peck. Farim smirked and returned the affection with a soft caress under her beak.

”The Fates have a funny way of working, do they not? It would seem we come from quite similar backgrounds. I know loss is not easy - so I hope you are as strong in mind as you seem in spirit to weather such things. I imagine you would not have made it thus far if you were not - but I offer my condolences all the same.”

“You are most kind, Shehzade,” Riona said and offered her own condolences.

In the lyrical cadence of the Golden Tongue, she continued, “However, <<the brilliant light that emanates from you deceives your eyes, for the strength you perceive is a mirage in the vast desert. What remains here is a broken thing, held together by spite and a naïve hope that lingered beyond the death of innocence.>>”

“Optimism, I have learned, is a double-edged sword. It is a beautiful quality to have… it is also what got my cousin killed.” She shook her head at the thought. Everyone was right to question his belief that they could live peacefully with the Danroses.

“While you are here, I hope you will continue to sharpen your ability to see past illusions, Shehzade. Just as you have seen past your father’s manipulations and deceptions.”

”Spite, you say…while I think such a notion has uses, I find it a little too predictable to be truthfully honest. No offense to your ways, mind you.” Farim paused and began to circle around her as he talked, making quick jumps to the sides as he started this new cadence. ”I like to think that being optimistic in the face of adversity gives a sort of flavor to life that makes it far more enjoyable. Like you are taking the very winds out of their sails.” The man shrugged and returned to her right side, gesturing for Thara to return to him with a wave of his hand. She made a swift dive and flapped her wings as she landed onto his shoulder with grace. ”If my enemies plan to cut me down anyway, a double-edged sword is simply that - a sword. It makes it even more baffling to those who would strike me down if I use such unconventional methods to combat their tricks and shadow games.” He chuckled, reaching up to give his pet bird another stroke along her feathers with his steady hand.

… But then it wouldn’t be a curse if she was happy or if it fed off of positivity, now would it? No. It was a spell born from suffering, designed to inflict misery. The only “blessing” was the power it granted, the chance to turn that suffering outward and make her enemies pay.

“Optimism can be just as predictable as spite, and your enemies—your father—can use it against you just as easily.” The Danroses weaponized hope to get rid of an entire clan they felt threatened by. If the Grand Vizier was as manipulative as the Shehzade said, then he wouldn’t hesitate to exploit his son’s optimism for his own gain.

“Do not underestimate the creativity of a spiteful heart, Your Highness. When revenge is the goal, the most vindictive among us can be endlessly imaginative in our cruelty.” …Maybe Riona and the Grand Vizier had a lot more in common.

Farim nodded, scratching his chin as the woman shared her thoughts on the matter. ”You carry truth in your words. I think the key here then is to be as unpredictable as possible. Like bringing a man some farce furniture when he leasts expects it.” He chuckled at the allusion to their current situation. ”I will make sure to keep that in mind when dealing with him. The man has exploited me plenty and I am sure he is already up to something that will make my innards churn with distaste.” He took a short breath before stopping himself from starting another fit. ”But that shall be for another time. Is there anything else on your mind this fine afternoon?”

“Only the matter of refurbishing the guestroom with the… extraordinary decoration you helped procure.” Riona chuckled a bit. “Would you permit me to mention Your Highness’s hand in curation? I suspect this particular guest may be less inclined to immediately cast them aside if they believe the pieces come with a royal endorsement, as it were.”

”Now now, young lady. I procured nothing - I merely suggested what you should not buy.” He winked. ”As fun as it would be to take credit for such things - I am sure there would be some hot water for me if I were to go around playing pranks on every well-named person who I came across. That honor…” Farim smiled. ”Shall be yours. However if you would like to add some credibility then you may simply mention that a foreign consultant gave you some recommendations.” The man laughed. ”I hope my cooperation has earned myself immunity from your wrath, Ríoghnach. I would not want to find myself wearing slippy shoes or being entirely pink or gods knows what else you may have planned for him.”

The Shehzade’s answer was disappointing, but understable. This was her personal crusade, not his. “So your assistance was a calculated maneuver to gain leverage over me? Well played, Your Highness.” Despite what she said, there was no true bite behind her tone.

“However, I doubt you will find yourself in any real trouble. Even if this particular noble discovers your involvement. They will likely be all too eager to roll over and play nice for a chance to win the favor of royalty.” If Shehzade Farim did land in hot water, she imagined it would be nothing compared to the boiling oil she’d be in.

Farim smirked. ”I like to consider it more like gaining someone’s trust or support. You can never have too many friends.” He paused for a moment. ”And I am sure you would appreciate the word of someone who could hopefully get those troublesome nobles off your back should you find yourself in a…sticky situation.” To which the woman nodded in gratitude.

“Contrary to what you may believe about me, I have responsibilities that consume the majority of my time. I do not ‘go around playing pranks on every well-named person who I come across,’ nor do I desire to.”

So why was she so fixated on Smithwood then? If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure why. It didn’t have to be him specifically, did it? He was far from the only privileged ass quick to let the servants take the fall when things went south at the ball, with no thought to the severity of punishments they would face as a result of his accusations.

The prank with the slippery shoes was meant to be a one-off comeuppance. But then the incident with Darryn happened. He bore the brunt of the consequences, suffering vastly disproportionate to that of the nobles. All because Anastasia and Callum valued their wealthy party friend over the stableboy. And Smithwood walked away with a fresh pair of shoes, inconvenience forgotten.

Just like that, it was over.

The actions of the powerless rarely brought about any meaningful change. She’d known that for a long time, she just refused to accept it. And the Lordling, he was right there: a convenient target for her frustrations. Her… helplessness.

Smithwood, for all his faults, had listened when she confronted him. Well, not really listened, listened. But he heard what she had to say and engaged with her grievances rather than smacking her in the mouth for speaking out of turn or ignoring her entirely. It was the barest glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe…

“I believe this person has the potential to change for the better,” Riona said softly, “I simply lack the influence to break through that infuriatingly thick, nobly-bred skull of theirs.”

The man nodded and continued moving the furniture into the guest house with her. Despite his verbal statement to not be thoroughly involved, his actions seemed to contradict it. ”That is quite the noble charge. I wish you the best of luck. There was a time I went on similar pursuits of persuasion. I know better now.” He sighed only to immediately change face to a more optimistic expression. ”But then again, the Winds have a strange way of guiding us. You may prove luckier than I in such things.” Once he had moved a majority of the furniture inside, Farim took a look around the room and couldn’t help but chuckle.

”It is like a work of art….And as joyful as this piece is coming together. I must start getting ready for my nighttime festivities. Many a good food stalls at carnivals, you know! I must try all of what Caessonia has to offer.” His excitement was palpable, and his hand flicked upward and motioned towards his bird that had taken a comfortable perch on a nearby wooden rail leading to the upstairs bedrooms. ”Anything else you need from me before I go?”

“Short of overhauling this country?” Riona’s lips quirked into a wry smile and she shook her head, “No, I think this will be all, Shehzade.” She dropped into a deep curtsy, skirts whispering against the polished floor. “You have been most generous with your time. Please enjoy the remainder of the day.”

As Shehzade Farim made to depart, Riona cleared her throat. “There is one other matter you should be aware of.”

She fixed him with a level stare. “There is one man whose love Princess Anastasia craves above all else. She would move heaven and earth itself to secure his affections.”

The man met her stare with mild befuddlement, followed by a hint of clarity. ”My first instinct is to guess her father. But the nature of your words suggest this is another suitor.” There was a pause - as if mulling over what to say. Farim’s usual smile faltered for a few moments before he spoke.

”My friend, when one goes digging for diamonds. You find many competitors. I am no stranger to this. Yet still I choose to attempt to be with such a highly coveted woman. If the Fates would favor me, then I shall count myself blessed. If this other nameless person should arise and whisk her away from me - then so be it. She is not mine by any means, nor is she property to be tied down and forced to be mine, like some people would do….” The man spat on the ground.

”But this is the way of finding that special someone. You explore, you get hurt, you lick your wounds, and repeat until you die or find that unique little spark to make the hurting stop.” Farim flashed a smile. ”I take your words kindly, but fret not Riona. I would not be where I am if I simply rolled over at the first sign of trouble. Still, you are kind for warning me. Thank you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and grinned far enough that his eyes squinted as his cheeks rose. ”You have given me plenty to think on, but I hope your day remains peaceful - and hopefully the winds will guide you to a favorable fate.”

For all this talk about optimism, when he spoke, it sounded more like a defensive mechanism to soften the blow rather than a genuine hopeful outlook.

“You should have more faith in yourself, Shehzade Farim Hafiz Kadir. Your first instinct was correct: it is her father who I speak of.” Her gaze went distant, tracing over memories of Anastasia and Edin, the empty spaces between them speaking louder than words ever could. “And a father’s shadow can be a far more formidable foe than any mere suitor.” Blinking away the thought, Riona’s attention returned to the present. “You will need to save her from its reach… and from herself.” Before he could ask what she meant by that, Riona bowed once again.

“<<May the winds blow fair and the sun light your way, Shehzade.>>”
4x Like Like 1x Thank Thank
Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by FunnyGuy
Raw
Avatar of FunnyGuy

FunnyGuy

Member Seen 1 day ago

Violet
&
Alexander

1

Time: After Midnight 🦉
Location: Back Alley in the Slums
Mention: Roman @ReusableSword, Fritz/Ryn @JJ Doe, Calbert and Liliane Damien

As night loomed, Violet had snuck out of her home once again. Although this time, with her mother’s promise of privacy, she found more ease moving around. The guards and ladies, who seemed to never sleep, kept a watchful eye but didn’t motion to stop her.

Changing into a thin and light black night dress, Violet covered her pale skin with a heavy black fur cloak, similar to the one she wore the night before. She made her way back to the slums, keeping as low of a profile as she could.

Stalking down the back alley, past all the fumbling drunks and shady people, Violet was able to track the smell of death. Although the stench was rampant here, this was strong. Fresh.

It didn’t take her long to find the piece of shit man who she had killed the night before. Still slumped over and blending in with the trash. She needed to come up with a plan on where to hide him. Permanently.

“The count didn't help you with this one? And here I thought that man to be a gentleman of sorts.” Alexander's voice burst through the silence as if he had been continuing an already had conversation. His voice had been filled with the same level of snark as when Violet and he had met for the first time at the stable. Its abruptness startled Violet, causing her to let out a long, drawn-out breath while keeping her back to the familiar presence that had decided to tag along, only adding to her frustrations on this already unbearable night.

Approaching from her rear, it was apparent Alexander had been trailing her through the foul-smelling slums. With his hands in his pockets, he walked until the tips of his leather shoes were about an inch from the corpse, looking down at it with a rather stern expression.
Violet called out rhetorically, her voice heavy with defeat. “Can this night really get any better?” Tilting her head back, she gazed up at the night sky, the stars offering little comfort. As she leaned back, the thick black hood of her cloak slipped off her head, revealing her raven-colored hair that seemed to drink in the moonlight. The pale illumination from the moon cast a soft glow on her porcelain complexion, highlighting her sharp features. Her red eyes, glistening like rubies in the night, peered over her shoulder to see Alexander standing there, his hands casually tucked into his pockets and a smug expression plastered on his face.
“If you're here because of that search party my mother so perfectly orchestrated, then Roman already beat you to it…” Violet paused, her tone dropping as a bitter edge crept into her voice, “…or slapped, I should say.” She hadn’t clued into the fact that he was speaking of the night prior, her mind was so focused on the events this evening she had nearly forgotten about Count Fritz. Her drinking bender had certainly helped with that.
Bending down to her knees, Violet began to rummage through the dead man's pockets.
“Oh Scarlett…” Alexander shook his head and chuckled lightly before his facial expression snapped to one as cold as the peaks of Krasivaya. “I think you mean the search party that was meant to end the night of the masquerade party. And because you didn't return like you were meant to…” Her eyes dropped down as her hands moved idly with no clear direction as her mind filled back to the night of the party. She had full intention to go but hearing the laughter and music filled her with more rage than she was willing to admit.
Alexander crouched beside Violet “...this happened, didn't it? And probably much more. Allow me to be direct with you.” Alexander removed a hand from his pockets and used just two fingers to gently guide her face by her jawline until she faced him, but to his surprise, she flinched, moving backward away from his touch, causing her balance to shift as she fell, onto her hip beside the lifeless man. Alexander let loose a short exhale of annoyance but would still stick to asking his question.
“Did anyone discover your secret? Don't you lie.”
Her heart dropped for just a moment until she realized her situation. In a softer motion, as if to play off the flinch as nothing, she shifted back on her knees, continuing to remove the trash and items from his pockets.
Refusing to make eye contact with him, she responded to his question. “I died a very public death, you’d be an idiot if you think some people wouldn’t know or suspect my condition,” her tone chilled the air around them. “especially within a circle of such nosey and all-knowing some of them believe themselves to be.“ she added.
Alexander rose, standing up, the moonlight casting his shadow onto her and the corpse she had become so familiar with again.
“And you’d be foolish if you think I will repeat myself. Answer the question I asked. I don’t need the assumptions of the few, the masses, the king, the queen, or Duke Vikena’s damned ferret!” Alexander positioned himself so his shadow was no longer obstructing Violet’s view of the man, but it was only so he could further place himself in her direct line of sight. “Now, your second attempt to answer, go.”
Violet was finishing with her task and removing all items from his pockets, she reached for some discarded rope that lay nearby, bringing it towards her, attempting to ignore Alexander's clear advances at her. “You caught me.” She shook her head faking a sad expression. “I told the Ferret. But don't worry, I ate him afterward so there is nothing left. Oh! And I also told the stable boy's parents … let's see who else?” Her red eyes looked at him unamused by his statements. “Count Fritz knows but I didn’t tell him. He made a strange request that I refused. Roman …” her voice dropped and her shoulders relaxed down as her mind continued to remind her of what just happened not long before this.

Her eyes moved to look down at the man's feet as she began to aggressively string up his ankles together in the rope. “I attacked him.” She tied off the knot before standing to her feet. “He- … It’s fine. I don't think he’ll tell anyone. He was understanding or so I thought.” Her eyes darkened once again as this time she looked at him. “I haven’t breathed a word about you, or that night…or anything to anyone. Not even in passing conversation. You don't need to worry about me Alexander, I’m sure you have better things to take care of.” She reached down to grab the stack of ropes that were tied around the man's ankles and attempted to pull him toward the direction of the back of the alley but it failed to move with Alexander’s foot stepping on the rope.
“Normally…” Alexander took a breath to calm himself as he was seething now. “Violet. I believe you misunderstand the situation. We, you and I. We need each other. And if I need you, Violet, then I can’t simply allow you to out yourself to every other Varian official visiting Sorian. You might as well kill yourself to speed up the process with the way you are doing things. And seeing that you haven’t jumped off a high place and are at least trying to hide a body you fed on, there’s some sense of self-preservation, right? If I’m wrong, tell me. I’ll kill you right here. It’ll be fast. Heartbreaking but… swift.” He leaned in and whispered. “But we don’t want that, right, Scarlett?”
Violet sucked in her breath as her eyes moved to look at him as he whispered his words and the name Scarlett that left his lips so eloquently.

So, that was the truth of it, he needed her as some kind of pawn. For what, she didn’t know but he certainly had his way with words. She could feel the fear he intended her to feel, the dread of death. Why was she caring so much to cover up the body? The question vexed even her. Did it dismantle her words? Her stance? No.

It wasn’t for her…
She wanted to utter the words. They sat at the tip of her tongue but something stopped her from omitting the truth. She wanted it to end. She needed it to end. “Perhaps that is the point” she whispered back as her eyes moved to meet his, her voice low and soft-spoken like a secret she was sharing. “After tonight, there is no search party, no one will come looking…I’ll just fade off into memory,” She dropped her grip on the rope as the man’s leg hit the ground with a thud. “making sure there is nothing left to find, no one else it could point to… she said softly, her words leading to him.
“But you wouldn’t kill me.” She stepped back from him, her voice returning to normal as her back pressed against the alley wall. “Because if you really wanted to, you wouldn’t have taken me to the barn to help me. You also would have killed me sooner because I was a liability.” she offered him a cheeky smile “You’re too smart for that…”
“Charming…” Alexander nodded with pursed lips that quickly formed into a grin as he held back an instinctive chuckle. One he had practiced so many times when amongst those who had deeply aggravated him so he could keep face. “Charming, defiant, and oh so snarky, Scarlett… I can’t help but be a little proud, especially if we’re mentioning the night at the barn.” Alexander let loose a deceptively defeated sigh while raising both hands. “You called my bluff. I wouldn’t kill you. Liability or not, I can’t bring myself to do it.” For the first time during their confrontation, Alexander averted his gaze from Violet’s, feigning weakness. “I only wish to cooperate with you.” He took a step toward her and reached down to grab the rope. Violet mimicked his actions without realizing as she too reached for the rope again, and they both proceeded to move the man’s body. “You and I. No one here could understand us like we do each other. Not a single soul, Scarlett.” Her crimson eyes looked up to meet his as his words sunk in.
Reminders of the evening's events cemented that statement even more for her, but regardless, she was a monster. With her little experience in her new life, she couldn’t help but wonder just how monstrous this man was. Violet's eyes fell on the man as she used her strength to lift his legs. ”My mother…she um...” she stuttered slightly unsure of if she wanted the answer to this question. Alexander raised an eyebrow. Is such a delicate flower yet so tempting to pluck. The intrusive thought brought a pleasant smile to Alexander's visage.
“Yes?”
“She mentioned I would only need to do this maybe weekly…she brought me some kind of reserve that would hold me over for long periods of time.” Her eyes glanced back up at him as she attempted to lead them deeper into the alley. “Is that true?” Her question straightened his lips, removing any trace of the smile he once wore.
“Hm… Unfortunately, no.” The words held a tinge of defeat in them as her question in itself revealed the answer to him in real-time. Despite this unsettling truth, he maintained eye contact. The playfulness was long gone now. “Unless you have some strange inclinations toward…” He nodded toward the corpse. “... it couldn't be true in the slightest, Scarlett. I’m afraid you have a unique problem at hand.” He’d allow his words to stew so that she might feel the gravity of the situation.
“I see.” Her head turned to look ahead of them. Fear sunk into her belly as she was afraid of the reality of her situation. All she could see was darkness as they continued to head deeper into the alley. She led them towards a sewer hole nearby that would be a perfect spot not far from where they were. It wouldn’t be abnormal to find discarded bodies and other unpleasantries below these streets.
The expression on Violet's face could be read like a book, the utter disappointment in hearing Alexander's words hit her like a train. Not only was she cursed to live out her life with this need of survival with blood but the fixation and mindless obsession that came along with it.

She envied Alexander. He made it seem so easy. She could maybe one day have a life, a family. Her mind casually reminded her of what happened when she kissed Roman. The feeling of darkness that had swarmed her then. The primal desire to bleed him dry in that moment, as if some creature attempted to possess her body and mind. She was glad she had left before it could consume her. The ghostly sting on her cheek was another reminder of what she was to those around her. She was a problem.

Attempting to break the silence, she caused her eyes to dart to him and then in front of them as they reached the large hole that was covered by a half-rusted bar grate. She stopped in front of it. “I figured I'd just dump him down there,” she said looking into the sewer hole as a putrid smell rose from it. She covered her nose with the corner of her cloak whilst Alexander turned his head slightly from the foul stench.
“It’ll do, I guess,” Alexander commented plainly. He was indifferent to what Violet planned to do with the body.
“I’m sorry, I’ve never had to find places to dump bodies before…” she groaned as her shoulders dropped in defeat. Alexander was sure he'd request for this corpse to be disposed of by his associates later but that wasn't something she needed to know. Using her foot Violet kicked the body down the hole with some force while ensuring he went in without issue.
“And don't fret about the drinking problem. I’m sure we can figure something out. You still have your mind, your wit, your sanity, and of course, you’re a gorgeous young woman.” He shrugged, adding to his minimization of her problem. “You just need to remain satiated, right? You could make use of the two sympathetic men who know your secret, continue to prey on and get lucky with the forgettables like this one here, or allow me to coordinate something with Lily to supply her with more than what she's giving you. Endure for a few years and before you know it, the cure will be placed right in your lap, Scarlett.” He playfully poked her side to lighten the mood, though he was gauging how she planned to handle this dilemma with her own wit.

The poke to her side distracted her momentarily from his words as her sour expression softened to a half smile, her sharp fang peeking through her top lip. “I don't want my mother involved with this,”
“You don’t?” Alexander’s brow furrowed with slight concern yet his tone was lathered in wonder.
Reaching down, Violet moved the grate back over the sewer hole. “She’s worried enough, I'd rather her think things are okay. She has Crystal to look after and I don't want to add more stress onto her.” She knew, though, that his description of her condition was far from her truth. Violet’s mind was going by the day and she never felt satiated. Her looks could certainly help draw those around her that she intended to harm, but it drew in the ones she didn’t intend to hurt as well. Her looks were nothing more than bait and her dream of living a normal life was futile because she wasn’t normal. She would never be normal.
“Right…well.” She looked around, slightly nervous to be around him. “I am far too awake to be on my way home, and I’ll only get more restless than I am if I return now. Care to join me for a drink? It's the least I could offer.”
“I usually don't fancy establishments that would be open at this time, but I'd gladly welcome the change of scenery.” He took a moment to look around at what the filthy alley had to offer. “Come, I think I know a place close by. And on the way, you can tell me who you’ll have to assist you in your binge drinking, if not your dear mother.”
Continuing beside him, Violet was curious as to where he had in mind. She was more comfortable finding a shady tavern, but the idea of something new excited her slightly. Truthfully, she thought about preying on the feeble-minded, poor folk. Tossing them aside like the trash they were. The shady men who stalked women in the late hours of the night attempting to do all sorts of unsavory things to them in their drunken states. She couldn’t care less what happened to them. Curious, however, to the idea of what happened back in the tavern with Roman. The feeling of life, excitement … feeling like a woman again and not some monster. Although that feeling was short-lived, it sat in the back of her mind. She never thought of herself as that type of lady but the emotions it brought made her feel so alive.

Could she replicate that with any man she encountered? The thoughts continued to spin but were not a topic of conversation to have with a happily married man.
“I hadn’t put much thought into it.” she said, breaking the silence “I’m not sure I can control myself, nor do I feel trust towards anyone enough to allow that kind of intimacy, I suppose.” It was rather intimidating to think of sharing such a private moment with someone. “I suppose that is a perk to your marriage, having someone you could possibly count on for such things. Even just as a supportive person in your life… It's rather lonely without it.” Her voice dropped.
“Marriage?” Alexander let loose a light chuckle. The gesture was his only means of escaping despair, a feeling capable of crushing that charming mask of his. “It’s much more than that. Remember this well, Scarlett, this curse made from love… this affliction requires and ruins the two people involved.” He briefly held up two fingers. “By design, your mother should be the one who supports you through this new life. She is responsible, so the burden should be hers. However, if not her, then someone informed of your state who loves you enough to take your hand and walk along this vile path of murder, loss, and secrets.” The two were nearly out of the alley now. Just several more steps.
“Can you trust Lord Ravenwood with that? And would you be prepared to expose him to such a path?”

4x Like Like
↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet