Hidden 2 mos ago Post by FunnyGuy
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FunnyGuy

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Time: Morning
Location: Edward's Estate
Interaction: @princess Cassius, Callum, Charlotte
Mention:

Surprisingly, just one of the drinks helped to take some of the edge off of Lorenzo. Though he was aware of how terrible it was to medicate himself with it, Lorenzo would be lying if he claimed it never helped sometimes. His eyes admired his glass as he attempted to keep himself from butting into Charlotte's fun with her two new and peculiar male friends. He winced.

A Danrose and a Damien… How did this happen? It's… it's not bad, I guess. Unexpected but she's having fun… she's having fun… she's having fun, Lorenzo. He beat those final thoughts into his head until he couldn't but hear Cassius baiting the others into a drinking contest of sorts. Lorenzo finally turned his head, first looking at Charlotte, then to Callum, and finally Cassius.

“Shall we see who can keep up?”

“Let’s! The Duke of Vermillion could use a warm up… Like a rival of mine famously says, ‘I’m here to play… and win.’” Lorenzo downed one of his two cocktails before flashing a mischievous grin at the young men.


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Hidden 2 mos ago Post by Lava Alckon
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Lava Alckon

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Drake



Attire: Black/Green Coat, Black Dress Pants, and Black Shoes
Time: Morning of the 25th
Location: Edwards Estate
Mentions: Everyone present at the party]





Drake waved his hand at the offer to join the man with his guests. ”I would love to keep you all company at present. But I actually have something to tend to…I just wanted to make sure all is well. Do give Charlotte my best wishes, though. I think I caught wind of what she gave me and I -” He paused for a moment in appreciation. ”I am very thankful.” He bowed towards the man and walked off towards the stage setup near the end of the garden.

On his way there he managed to bump into three lady servants serving cocktails. While it would normally be ill-advised to partake in drink so soon before a performance, Drake could scarcely hold his nerves together. He gestured towards them and gave a bow as he reached for a cocktail. ”Oh you three are life-savers. I am rather shaken by the upcoming performance and might need a slight bit of liquid courage to stave the nerves.” The man swigged a good portion of the cocktail before letting out a sigh. Immediately he felt a strong kick to his throat as the alcohol slipped down his throat and he stifled a minor cough from the pure strength of the drink he just consumed. There was no odd taste, yet he felt like this was quite the potent mixture he just drank. Nonetheless, he smiled at the three ladies. ”Oh thank you three very much. Erica, Vanessa, and Yellenia right? You three deserve a break from my mother’s antics. I’m sure she’s had you running around all day - so please help yourself to some of the food being prepared. Tell them I said it was okay.”

He gave them a bow, albeit slightly shaken, and stood up to walk back towards the stage. Once there, he read over the sheet music once more. Gah. Why can’t I focus? Surely I am not so anxious that I cannot even see straight? He shook his head and gave his cheeks a light tap - his vision clearing in the moment. Once he gave it another once over, he placed it to the side and picked up the wrapped up sheet music that Charlotte had given him. It was a rather nice piece - something calm and serene, and thankfully short. He felt like if he was any longer he would forget half the notes before he made it back on stage. It was a rather large gamble to pull such a stunt - but for one reason or another he was feeling rather adventurous.

Drake made his way onto the stage amidst the bustling crowd. Once he placed the sheet music onto the piano stand he waved his hands to the crowd and gave a big bow towards the party-goers.

”Dearest friends, guests, gentlemen, ladies, and everything not classified. I welcome you to this fine celebration put on by my loving family in commemoration of my Name Day.”


He gestured towards the table where his Mother sat, and then towards his Father and Ariella.

”To you all I cannot thank you enough for making me feel like something of a somebody on this beautiful day.”


Once he had grabbed their attention he made his way to the piano and kept his voice projected, yet still moderately quiet as to not jar anyones eardrums before the performance. ”I hope you enjoy this performance of Clair de Luna - and may you all have a beautiful day.” Once the sound had quieted down enough, his fingers hit the keys with grace and precision.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGJPVl7iQUM

As the final notes filled the air - Drake could scarcely believe he had made it to the end of the performance with little hiccups. The man felt his head beginning to spin ever so slightly - but he pushed on. Turning to the crowd, he shouted out once more, more boisterously than before.

”And this next piece is a surprise one - gifted to me by a special someone. A spectacular person by the name of Charlotte Vikena. Thank you for blessing me with such a fine gift on such a fine day, milady.”


Perhaps in a wiser state of mind, he would have elaborated, but he chose to end it there, and began the next piece.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJGTrULrdUY

The notes hung in the air - a little shakier of a performance this time around but Drake felt like he more or less nailed it. Which was a miracle given how little time he had to prepare it. The lord stood up and faced the audience with a smile. He waved his hand and looked from left to right before taking an overenthusiastic bow. But that is when things would finally go wrong for the young lord. All the sensations that he had managed to ignore, whether through adrenaline or tolerance, had come washing to his head all at once. It proved to be too much - and so Drake in all his glory took a tumble off the stage, careening into the clearing in front of the tables that were closest to the stage.

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Hidden 2 mos ago 2 mos ago Post by PapaOso
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PapaOso

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Hidden 2 mos ago 2 mos ago Post by Conscripts
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Conscripts An Atom Trying to Understand Itself

Member Seen 18 hrs ago


Time: 10 AM
Location: Sorian Temple
Interactions: The Perfumer
Mentions:



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Hidden 2 mos ago Post by Helo
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Helo Wonderlust King

Member Seen 2 days ago




Time: Morning, 10am
Location: Edward’s home, for Drake’s party
Interactions: Nahir @Rodiak, Wulfric @Silverpaw



Calbert Damien, constant grumpus, hates the flashy fella in pink, Lord Vikena. He noted, and in so few words Nahir had clued him in that such drama ran rampant in Caesonia. Before he could answer her question, a man whose appearance could only be described as angelic approached. A pristine white suit? At a garden party? Ballsy. Classy. He admired the choice and how it made Wulfric stand out so easily in a garden full of vibrantly dressed nobility.

Rohit rose from his seat the moment Prince Wulfric introduced himself. He bowed respectfully, “Good morning, Your Highness. I’m Rohit, son of Vali Amar of Kimoon.” He sat down once the prince had taken his seat and grabbed a well-crafted cocktail. A future King and the likely future Sultana…picked the right seat to steal!” He thought, remaining relaxed in the impressive company until whoever’s seat he’d borrowed eventually showed up to claim it.

“Much to explore.” Rohit repeated in agreement sipping from his drink. He’d seen only a fraction of the city and already looked forward to seeing more. “As for my journey here,” He paused to think of the many ports he’d stopped at -why go on a grand journey and not make the most of it- and decided to speak of another Caesonian city.

“Felipina.” Rohit said, addressing Nahir. “Best stop of my journey, excluding the destination, of course.” He continued, nodding to Wulfric. “Great food, even better wine, beaches filled with beautiful people, and music and romance fill the air. Casa de las Estrellas, what a way to wind down - stargazing on a private balcony. And I’m told I must return for the Grand Treasure Hunt, how exciting! Shehzadi, I can’t recommend it enough. Never dull never dreary.” Rohit gave his mostly honest review of the city, was it better than Breoven? Maybe not, but he doubted the future King of Caesonia wanted to hear how wonderful Breoven was to visit.

“But despite the high bar set by Felipina, Sorian has already impressed. I arrived just in time to catch the carnival last night, what a wonderful surprise. Anyplace you‘d recommend?” He asked Wulfric just as Drake took the stage.

Drake’s performance was marvelous, a pair of well-played songs that showed the man’s skill off nicely. Until he went to take his bow, “Ooooh, embarrassing, he muttered as Lord Drake fell from the stage.

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Hidden 2 mos ago Post by Helo
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Helo Wonderlust King

Member Seen 2 days ago


Time: 10am
Location: Drake’s Birthday Bash
Interactions: Charlotte @princess, Lorenzo @FunnyGuy, Cassius @PapaOso, Drake @Lava Alckon



Callum made a face of disgust as Cassius referred to him as, Your Highness. “Nonsense, I’m not high, right now.” He joked and noted the discomfort from Charlotte, and denial from Cassius, at his assumption that the two were a couple.

It wasn’t obvious, but Callum had a knack for finding darkness, and there was certainly some of it behind Charlotte’s eyes when he’d mentioned his dislike for both Calbert and Edin. But what was more telling was the long moment where it seemed like Charlotte was somewhere else; her expression changed as her eyes focused on empty spaces. Like she was seeing things that weren’t there too. ...And what spells have you been casting, Charlotte? He wondered, jumping on the explanation that made the most sense to him.

”Princess, huh?” Callum repeated the nickname Cassius had for Charlotte. ”Didn’t realize I had a secret sister out there.” He joked as he watched Charlotte down her drink.

Callum was not going to be outdone. He grabbed a cocktail and lifted it in Cassius' direction, as he was the one to officially make this a challenge, and drank the entire drink in one go. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a reason there’s a tavern with my name, and face, on it.” He added, slamming the empty glass back on the table as Drake took the stage.

”What a lovely piece, you composed it?” Callum whispered, eyes flickering to Charlotte. ”It’s magical.” He commented as the song ended.

And then Drake fell off the stage.

Callum stood up, stumbling as the cocktail, and that loaf of alcoholic bread, struck him. He held on to the table for a moment then fumbled his way to Drake.

”You alright?” He asked, offering a hand. ”From the guy who's usually falling over at parties, best to just laugh it off.” He added quietly.
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Hidden 1 mo ago 1 mo ago Post by princess
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princess

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Time:10am
Location: Edwards Estate - Drake's Party
Attire: Dress, Amulet
Interaction: @PapaOso Cassius @FunnyGuy Lorenzo @Helo Callum @Potter Olivia


Charlotte turned her attention to Callum, her smile lighting up her face as she leaned in slightly, and teasingly said, “Well, maybe I am your sister. We do share strikingly similar features, don’t we? Dark hair, blue eyes... Perhaps there's a royal family secret worth investigating.”

With a quick glance at Cassius, her voice shifted to a breezier tone, “A legend, huh? Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that.” When he leaned closer and claimed he’d be carrying her, she raised her brows with an exaggerated tilt of her head. “Oh, you really think so? I’ll have you know, Cassius, I can hold my own.” Her hand casually brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she lifted her glass, smirking confidently, “In fact, I think I already have the trophy.”

Cassius downed his second cocktail and her brows shot up in surprise. But as he issued his challenge, her eyes widened, and she repeated, ‘A drinking contest?" She glanced around the table as if appalled by the very suggestion. “At the son of the Duke of Soralia’s birthday party, no less! And need I remind you, it is only 10 AM!” It was clear from the giggles that followed the statement, that she wasn’t sober enough to deliver the logic convincingly. The warmth from the cocktail had settled in quickly, loosening her usually measured demeanor, though she had always been a lightweight.

“Let’s! The Duke of Vermillion could use a warm-up… Like a rival of mine famously says, ‘I’m here to play… and win.’” Charlotte whirled to face Lorenzo, half-raising her hand to object, but before she could even get a word out, he downed his cocktail just as swiftly as she had earlier. She blinked in surprise, only to hear Callum’s voice pipe up again. Callum, too, emptied his glass. She knew she should have been exasperated with them, yet she couldn’t help but grin at the absurdity of it all.

"Well." she began, raising her finger as if she had just thought of something profound, "if you boys insist on carrying on like this, I suppose someone will have to teach you a lesson in how to properly handle your liquor like a lady." She grinned, then plucked one of the shots and gulped it down with a quick flick of her wrist. The alcohol burned briefly as it slid down her throat, a sharp reminder of what a terrible idea this was. But Lottie, for once, didn’t care. After all that had transpired—the constant swirl of drama, the weird aura around her, Calbert Damien, and those intrusive memories of her father that seemed to force themselves into her reality when least expected—she needed to let go, even just for a moment.

Besides, if she was going to be dragged into another one of those surreal flashbacks, better to be a little too tipsy to care.

"...We could play strip poker." Her gaze slid to the table next to them as they remained perfectly in earshot. As Anastasia had been speaking, she had dimly registered her words as background noise, but it hadn’t been until that last bit that she felt the need to look over and spot the scandalous amount of PDA between Farim and Anastasia. Compared to that spectacle, she figured a few shots would be the least scandalous thing happening at this party.

Her eyes met Olivia’s for a fleeting moment to check up on her, then her attention shifted entirely as Drake made an announcement then sat at a piano, the serene notes wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

Clasping her hands together in delight, she squealed with a rare burst of excitement. “Oh! This song is one of my favorites!” She idly sipped from yet another cocktail as the music filled the air, swaying slightly to the rhythm, a contented smile on her face.

Then, Drake’s words made her freeze mid-sip.

”...And this next piece is a surprise one - gifted to me by a special someone. A spectacular person by the name of Charlotte Vikena. Thank you for blessing me with such a fine gift on such a fine day, milady.”

Charlotte’s eyes darted around as heads turned toward her. Instead of shying away, as she might’ve done before, she eventually gave the crowd a cheeky little wave.

“What a lovely piece, you composed it? ...It’s magical.”

She slurped the remaining liquid from the bottom of the glass as she replied casually,"Certainly did," she said, "I suppose that makes me magical, doesn’t it?" It wasn’t long after that Drake tumbled off the stage, and Callum had rushed to his aid, along with several attendants. Charlotte assumed his parents would also be soon to follow as gasps filled the air.

She craned her neck to check on Drake as he tumbled off the stage. Gasps filled the air, and Callum, along with several attendants, rushed to his aid. She watched for a moment, her lips forming a faint pout before deciding he seemed alright. With a dramatic sigh, she turned her attention back to Lorenzo and Cassius, her cheeks flushed and her eyes gleaming with a giddy energy.

"Well, that was quite the performance," she giggled, playfully swinging her now empty shot glass in the air before setting it down a little too forcefully. "But you know..." she began, her words starting to slur ever so slightly, "I think I could do better—without falling off a stage, mind you."

She hiccuped and blinked, her train of thought momentarily lost before a mischievous grin crossed her face. "Cassius, Lorenzo," Lottie continued, swaying slightly as she leaned closer to them, "I've been thinking... If we were all animals, you'd definitely be a... hmm..." She paused, her gaze locking onto Lorenzo as she squinted in mock concentration, leaning in as if unveiling a grand revelation." A ferret like Kier! All squiggly and sneaky. You clever little thing!"

She paused, giggling uncontrollably at her own words. Then, turning to Cassius, she poked him lightly in the chest, "And you, you'd be... oh! A peacock! Always strutting around, thinking you're oh so pretty." With that declaration, she snatched up another shot and poured it down her throat, perhaps enjoying the pleasant feeling a little too much.

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Hidden 1 mo ago 1 mo ago Post by princess
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princess

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Time: Morning
Location: Edwards Estate Backyard
Interaction:@Helo Callum, @Lava Alckon Drake @TpartywithZombi Ariella
Mention: @Potter Olivia @JJ Doe Fritz @Funnyguy Lorenzo @Helo Callum @Lava Alckon Farim





Victoria snapped her fingers sharply, the sound cutting through the air like a command that couldn’t be ignored. In moments, two attendants hurried over, giant feathered fans in hand, and began fanning her with almost frantic devotion. Another servant fussed over her hair, ensuring every strand was impeccably in place. Her head barely moved, her posture regal as she surveyed the party like a queen on her throne.

"Honestly, Lily," Victoria drawled, her eyes glued to the unfolding scene across the lawn. "Look at them—acting like they've forgotten they’re in public, fawning over each other like animals. Farim and the princess, no less. She’s practically using him as a cushion. What’s next? Is she going to ride him in front of us all?"

Countess Lily forced a nervous chuckle, nodding along with a tense smile. "Yes, Duchess. It’s... quite something."

Victoria let out a snarky laugh. "Him and Moonear or whatever—those princes." Her tone dripped with sarcasm. "They dress as if they've borrowed their clothes from peasants. Baggy and uninspired! Honestly, do they not realize they are royalty?"

"And how is Ariella doing, Victoria?" Lily asked, eyes flicking nervously toward Victoria’s daughter.

Victoria’s gaze darkened instantly as her eyes followed Lily's. "How do you think she’s doing, Lily?" she retorted, frustration biting through her voice. "She’s obviously terrible." She pointed dramatically at Ariella, who was wiggling her toes barefoot. "Look at her—no shoes again! Of course, she’s decided to disgrace me at Drake’s party."

She huffed, crossing her arms. "Honestly, every damn time," she muttered under her breath, finishing her cocktail as if that could erase the chaos she’d just unleashed.

Without missing a beat, Victoria cupped her hands around her mouth and barked across the lawn. "Ariella! Put your damn shoes on right now or so help me, I will come over there and smack you with one!" The party froze for a split second as her voice echoed through the garden, heads turning to witness the spectacle.

A servant approached then with a tray of sparkling cocktails, a tight, fake smile plastered on her face as she set one delicately in front of the Duchess. Victoria accepted the drink, lifting it slowly to her lips. "Mmm, delightful. At least someone here knows how to do their job." Her gaze slid over the rim of the glass to narrow at the girl. "I hope you aren’t expecting a thank you. Go away now." She rolled her eyes.

Her eyes slid to the next table, a cruel smile curling on her lips. "And would you look at that table?" she sneered. "Cassius, Lorenzo, Callum, and Charlotte—what an utterly predictable bunch. Downing drinks like common drunkards in a tavern. Have they never seen liquor before? It’s so... undignified." She waved a hand, her cocktail shimmering as she took a delicate sip.

Her sharp gaze zeroed in on Callum, and she let out an almost bored laugh. "Should we even be surprised? Callum’s behavior never shocks me. He’s Edin’s worst mistake, after all. Living up to that legacy every day, isn’t he?" Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Victoria then flicked her eyes to Lorenzo, stifling a snicker. "And Vikena... in that ridiculous pale pink suit? Absurd. He looks like a child who wandered into his mother’s wardrobe. Pink! On him! It’s laughable."

Bored with them, her attention drifted back to the table with Anastasia and Farim. Her eyes locked on Count Fritz. She arched a brow, disdain evident. "And that one... the short one with the dark hair. What’s his name again? He’s so insignificant I can’t even bother to remember it. Why is he here? Practically invisible." She let out a soft laugh before her eyes landed on Olivia, radiant with ethereal beauty. Not even one flaw on her face. The duchess’s jaw clenched involuntarily. "And who, pray tell, is that?"

She talks way too much when she drinks. Lily thought to herself, taking a steady breath before answering. "I don’t know who that girl is. I’ve seen her around the Vikena estate lately."

"Really! You usually know everyone." Victoria mused with interest, though her gaze remained narrowed in jealousy.

"She’s quite lovely, isn’t she?" Lily ventured.

Just then, Calbert rose from the table. "Please excuse me, ladies." He left abruptly.

Victoria’s eyes stayed on Olivia even as Calbert walked away. Her fingers tapped rhythmically against her glass. "Lovely? That’s one word for it, I suppose," she replied, her voice tinged with bitterness. She took a languid sip, masking the jealousy bubbling beneath. Her smile toward Lily was sharp, devoid of warmth.

"And the Vikena estate, you say?" Her tone was dripping with fake curiosity. "Well, that explains everything. She could have been something—if only she wasn’t mixing with that lot. Even the most polished gems can end up in the gutter."

Lily's smile tightened, unsure what to say. "Yes... quite the pity," she murmured, glancing toward Olivia, blissfully unaware of the venom being spat in her direction.

Victoria’s gaze darkened as she sipped her drink, the taste now bitter. "It’s like she thinks she’s better than the rest of us, just sitting there with that face, as if she owns the room. It’s enough to make me sick."

The only thing that broke her deadly focus was her own son’s voice. Victoria snapped her fingers, halting the fanning and the servant fussing with her hair. Her eyes were glued to Drake as he prepared for his performance. A small, proud smile curled her lips—tinged, as usual, with self-importance. But as Drake continued speaking, she noticed the slight stumble in his movements, the slur in his words. He even ended up playing some awful song from the Vikena girl of all people. It quickly went downhill, ending with him tumbling off the stage in front of everyone.

A fire raged in Victoria’s eyes as she abruptly stood. Her perfectly styled dress rippled, and with a snap of her fingers, her attendants hurried to lift her skirts. She couldn’t sit by idly after this disaster—her son, falling like a common buffoon! With her head held high, her features twisted in indignation, she stormed across the lawn toward Drake, her heels sinking into the grass but not slowing her determined pace.

As she reached him, her voice cut through the chatter like a blade. "Drake!" she whisper-hissed, glaring down at him. "Do you have any idea how utterly embarrassing that was? Falling off the stage like a commoner who can’t hold his drink! My son, making a spectacle of himself at his own birthday party."

Her hands rested on her hips, venom dripping from her tone. "You are not some tavern drunkard, Drake. You are an Edwards. Get up and act normal!"

Before Drake could reply, her eyes flicked to Callum, who had been helping him to his feet. Without missing a beat, she sneered coldly. "Oh, look. I believe a flea just jumped out of your hair, Prince Callum Danrose. You might want to find a comb—though I doubt it’ll help with whatever’s going on there."

Victoria let out an exasperated sigh, smoothing her dress and waving her hand dismissively in Drake’s direction, forcing herself to maintain composure. With exaggerated grace, she climbed onto the stage, every step dripping with superiority. At the center, she flashed a tight, practiced smile, her voice oozing with false charm.

"Dear friends, please forgive the interruption," she called out sweetly. "It seems my poor son, Drake, is feeling a bit under the weather. Nothing to worry about—just a minor spell of dizziness." She waved her hand dismissively and posed with a hand on her hip as if the entire backyard was admiring her. "I’m sure he’ll be back to his usual self in no time. Carry on!"

Victoria clapped her hands, her voice taking on a singsong tone. "Servants! Now would be a fabulous time to bring out more hors d'oeuvres, don’t you think?" she chirped, commanding beneath the sweetness. "And everyone, do help yourselves to the buffet! So much to enjoy!" Her voice rose with fake enthusiasm, teetering on desperation. She gave an exaggerated bow, performing for the crowd.

As she descended the stage, the tight smile remained. This party was supposed to showcase her family’s grace and superiority, and Drake’s stumble had nearly ruined it. But Victoria Edwards wasn’t about to let her family’s image falter. Not on her watch.
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Hidden 1 mo ago 1 mo ago Post by Tpartywithzombi
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Tpartywithzombi “Strong women are absolutely unpredictable.”

Member Seen 2 days ago


Time: 10 am
Location: Drakes Birthday
Mention:
Interactions: Gideon@papaoso, Captain@citrusarms, Drake@Lava Alckon, Callum@helo, Victoria@princess
Appearance: No shoes | Blue summer gown with butterflies embroidered on gown

Ariella blinked up at her father, a wide, slightly dazed grin spreading across her face as his familiar voice broke through the haze of the alcohol. The flush in her cheeks deepened, both from the warmth of the drink and the surprise of his presence.

"Father!" she exclaimed, almost stumbling as she turned toward him, her hands instinctively reaching out to steady herself against his arm. She let out a breathless laugh, her eyes sparkling with an impish glint. "I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that."

The playful air that surrounded her seemed contagious, her carefree nature at the moment reflecting the years of love and freedom she’d always had with him. His gentle teasing only brought out a more dramatic reaction. She straightened her back, puffing her chest slightly as if to prove that she was entirely capable of handling herself. "I’m perfectly fine," she declared, her voice lilting as she took a sip from her own drink. "Just enjoying a little...well-deserved fun after the dungeon, you know."

She flashed a mischievous grin at Captain Stratya, then back at her father, thoroughly enjoying the absurdity of their conversation about chocolate and mead. Ariella leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "I think Stratya here has the right idea. Chocolate in sweetbread—what a revelation!"

As Gideon’s hand found her shoulder, she relaxed a bit, the steady weight grounding her, even if her head was spinning a little. His gentle warning about the drinks earned him a mock pout."Slow down? Me?" Ariella laughed, clearly delighted by the absurdity of the suggestion. But her father’s wink made her laugh even more, the kind of unguarded, bubbling laughter that only came from too much drinking and too much happiness in the moment.

Her eyes followed his as he glanced down at her bare feet, and she let out a small, sheepish chuckle. "You know me too well," she said, wiggling her toes with a grin. "Shoes are a torture device."

For a brief moment, the whirlwind of the party faded away when she heard her mother shouting towards her "Ariella! Put your damn shoes on right now or so help me, I will come over there and smack you with one!"

The chatter around them grew silent as they all stopped to look at Ariella and back towards Victoria. The whispers erupted as the crowd continued to look towards Ariella as she felt a flush of embarrassment as her eyes darted nervously between her father and the captain.
Her eyes landed back on her father, filled with disappointment and sadness she masked it with a soft smile and a squeeze of her father's arm.

“I’m sorry, I hope you both can excuse me,” she said softly, her voice nearly cracking as she decided to leave the table.

A server noticed Ariella leaving empty-handed and shuffled over offering her another drink. Without much thought she took it and threw it back, putting the empty glass back on their waiter’s tray before attempting to shuffle around the tables.

While her bother was giving his speech she hoped she could just sneak out and avoid this mess, already feeling like it was a mistake. However, suddenly she heard a gasp and the sounds of crashing. She looked over to see Drake falling into the tables.

Grabbing a fist full of her skirt she ran over to her bother but Callum had already intercepted it, she watched him offer a hand out to her bother. Knowing how Drake felt about Cal made this situation all the more interesting for Ari “Not such a bad guy after all, is he Drake…” she thought. As she reached his side she offered Cal a smile before her attention turned to her brother.

”You alright?” Callum had asked, whispering something to him she didn’t catch.

“ Drake!?” Ari added. “ Are you hurt?” she looked at him with a concerned expression as Cal attempted to help him up. She felt her mother's presence moving towards them as her body slightly stiffened.

"Drake!" she whisper-hissed, glaring down at him. "Do you have any idea how utterly embarrassing that was? Falling off the stage like a commoner who can’t hold his drink! My son, making a spectacle of himself at his own birthday party."

Ariella's eyes narrowed in on her mother as she bit back a remark but she continued.

"Oh, look. I believe a flea just jumped out of your hair, Prince Callum Danrose. You might want to find a comb—though I doubt it’ll help with whatever’s going on there."

Ariella’s smile faltered as her mother’s biting words filled the space. Her initial concern for Drake was quickly overshadowed by a simmering irritation, the familiar sting of her mother’s sharp tongue aimed first at her brother and now at Callum.

Her hand instinctively tightened around the fabric of her skirt, the warmth from the moment before disappearing as tension settled in. She glanced at Callum, who was helping Drake up, her heart aching at the cruelty of the insult tossed his way. Her eyes flicked to her mother, and for a moment, Ariella debated whether to let it slide, to simply keep the peace. But she couldn’t.

Taking a deep breath, Ariella stepped forward, her posture calm but her voice steely with liquid courage. "Mother," she began, her tone firm but measured, "I don’t think this is the time or the place for such... comments."

Her eyes darted back to Drake, offering him a quick, reassuring smile before her gaze settled on Callum, her expression softening. She couldn’t stand to see him treated so poorly, not when he’d done nothing but try to help.

Turning back to her mother, Ariella’s tone sharpened slightly, though she kept her words controlled. "Perhaps we could focus on making sure Drake is alright, instead of... embarrassing anyone further." Her eyes flashed with a hint of challenge as she stood her ground, unwilling to let her mother’s venom go unchecked.

“It's not very Lady like” she added as she took a step closer to her mother. Something she continuously reminded Ariella whenever she did something unapproving

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Hidden 1 mo ago 1 mo ago Post by CitrusArms
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CitrusArms Space Crystals

Member Online



Stratya Durmand

Time:
25th, 10 am
Location: Edwards Estate
Attire: Officer’s Formal
Family Dirk + Crest
Interactions: Duke Gideon @PapaOso, Anastacia @princess, Duchess Victoria
Mentions: Drake @Lava Alckon, Ariella @Tpartywithzombi, Cassius @Helo

She felt a little out of place. Perhaps she should have stepped apart, when Gideon had come to speak to his daugh’er? Too late now. She paused her speaking to take a sip from her cocktail when she heard it. Like there had been a lull in most conversations except hers, perhaps.

”...we could play strip poker.”

She stopped halfway through her cocktail, controlling herself from spitting it out from surprise. The knight managed to swallow it properly. What a wild idea! That was the princess’s voice, alright. That young lady kept surprising Stratya with her free spirit. However, the Princess also seemed to be a bit, ah, danger-prone, perhaps? She could recall hearing of two separate instances. She didn’t want to ruin the Princess’s fun, and besides, Anastacia was an adult. She was old enough to make these decisions for herself.

Yet the knight felt torn. It really didn’t seem like a good idea to let the princess do something like this with people who were ultimately only just new acquaintances, known for days at most. Her safety had to take priority.

Duchess Victoria shouted across the party at her daughter. What a fantastic parent. As Ariella excused herself, Stratya spoke to her before she could leave, "Lady Ariella, le's talk when there's nowt alc'hol involved." She gave the young lady a warm smile and nodded, before downing the rest of her cocktail and turning to Gideon, ”I believe I ‘eard a mat’er I ‘ad bes’ tend to, Duke Gideon. Please, excuse me, as well.” As she turned to put the cocktail on the table, she leaned against the surface to steady herself as things spun a bit. ”Ooh, ‘at’s strong. Heehee.” And tasty. Clearly, she had to take a closer look at the alcohols available to her. On the other hand, getting drunk too quickly took some of the fun out of it. You couldn’t play beer ball with this stuff, you’d be on your ass after one round.

Lord Drake began his performance as Stratya crossed to the Pricness’s table. He’s quite good.

The knight came to stand besides the Princess and her Royal Cushion, and spoke softly to the Princess. It wouldn’t do to disrupt Drake’s performance, ”I am sure you arre awarre I simply cannae le’ you play such a game, Prrincess Anastacia,” she looked as a cocktail was placed into her hand, causing her to pause. She brought the cocktail in front of herself, watching it, before continuing, ”wit’ou’ a.. sui’able perrsonal escorr’. I cannae leave you unprrotected forr such an even', aye? I’ seems nae tasteful to ‘ave a man for t’ job.. S’ppose I’d be t’ woman for i’, then, eh?”

She sat herself at the table and listened as Lord Drake continued to play, ”ooh, he’s qui’e good.” She let the performance dance in her ears, and looked over to Lady Charlotte as she heard Drake’s proclamation. She could make a joke about her being popular, but it was more impressive that she’d written a piece of music to be played, and that it was such a pleasant thing to listen to! ”Lady Charrlotte surre is somethin’. A sweet’earrt and talented, too? Hoo.”

She’d just turned back to the table when she heard everyone gasp, and a body go ‘thump’ to the ground. She turned quickly, but found that so many other bodies were already responding, including Prince Callum and Ariella. What she saw happen next was very interesting, though.

Victoria. What a vile woman. So vicious to her own children. She watched her body language as she berated her son for being drunk off the drinks at the party she arranged. She remembered Victoria's berating of her daughter, just moments ago, for enjoying being a free spirit. Perhaps it was the drink, but Stratya turned in her seat and leaned back on the table, crossing her legs as she held her cocktail up in her hand away from the table. She cupped her other hand to her mouth and shouted up, at Victoria,

“Take off yerr shoes!”

She watched Victoria, waiting to make eye contact and stare her down, as she sipped her cocktail slowly.
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Hidden 1 mo ago Post by FunnyGuy
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FunnyGuy

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Time: Morning
Location: Edward's Estate
Interaction: @princess @Helo @PapaOso @CitrusArms Cassius, Callum, Charlotte, Victoria, Stratya
Mention:

Lorenzo was grinning ear to ear as the festivities escalated between the members of his table. The tension between himself and Cassius was beginning to dissipate in the presence of competition. Whether or not it was healthy could be left up for debate. Everyone being in good spirits was a great sign, so Lorenzo would persist. A few drinks could never ruin him, right?

At the same time, he tried to remain mindful of Charlotte who was already slurring and swaying about. She’s happy, he mentally assured himself. They were all having fun—a good ol’ time. There was even a live performance from Drake Edwards, the birthday boy!

Lorenzo raised another glass.

“To the young and talented Drake Edwards!” Lorenzo announced before downing his drink. “I must have the recipe for these drinks!” He exclaimed.

“And this next piece is a surprise one - gifted to me by a special someone. A spectacular person by the name of Charlotte Vikena. Thank you for blessing me with such a fine gift on such a fine day, milady.”

Lorenzo gasped as he looked at Charlotte in amazement at discovering her music would be played in front of such an audience, in front of princes, princesses, dukes, and duchesses from all over the world! To find that Charlotte was so beloved made him feel so proud of her. To think she did it on her own and despite his many follies.

“Lottie that’s your song!” Lorenzo shouted listening in awe. “That deserves another!” He tapped a nearby servant without having to leave his seat. “Hey, just set the whole tray down here. You deserve a much-needed break,” Lorenzo insisted as the servant reluctantly set a tray of cocktails down at the table. With a stupid mischievous grin on his flushed face, Lorenzo turned to face Cassius and winked. “Looks like I brought the bar to us, huh?” He giggled with amusement before grabbing a glass and setting it as close as he could to Cassius. A bit of it spilled over in his unsteady hands, a strong indicator for him that these cocktails were hitting him harder than he initially believed they would. The Duke nearly thought he might be off his game when it came to consuming alcoholic beverages but hearing Drake slur just before he took a tumble off-stage informed him something else was afoot. He should have put more thought into figuring out what was happening but his and mostly everyone else’s focus shifted to Drake. The young man was being helped by several attendees, including Prince Callum which may have narrowed the competition to Lorenzo’s dismay. Defeating the sons of Edin and Calbert would be a legendary tale to tell his grandchildren someday!

Drake had fallen but Lorenzo was sure the young man would pick himself back up and push on. It was his very own personal holiday afterall. It appeared things would smooth over… at least until Duchess Victoria marched across the grass to ridicule her son only moments after ridiculing her daughter, Ariella. To think such pleasant children had to tolerate that abhorrent woman their entire lives. Trying to slow down on his drinking and keep his mind off of one of his sworn enemies, he took a sip of yet another cocktail… a small one. Really.

"Servants! Now would be a fabulous time to bring out more hors d'oeuvres, don’t you think? And everyone, do help yourselves to the buffet! So much to enjoy!" That might have been the last of her but Ariella stepped up to her challengingly. “Is there going to be a fight? Between mother and daughter? Hmm… I would love to see Ariella smack the ego off her face.” Lorenzo did not attempt to keep the thought to himself while his attention remained fixated on the two women.

“Take off yerr shoes!” Lorenzo’s eyebrows raised upon hearing the heckle toward Victoria. He craned his head to see none other than Knight Captain Stratya Durmand with one hand cupped around her mouth and the other holding one of those impressive cocktails. There were several chuckles and stifled laughs amongst the crowd, and for once he was not at the center of it. Of all people who could have a turn at being laughed at, he did not foresee a chance to mock Duchess Victoria ever coming to pass. This… This was an opportunity Lorenzo could not pass up. With no inhibitions holding him back, Lorenzo took a deep breath and pointed toward Victoria.

“She won’t do it! It would be a crime Knight Captain! Victoria knows she has the stinkiest feet in the Kingdom! Trust me when I say it would be easier to bury your face in WEEK-OLD ROYAL CURD CHEESE left in the blistering heat than to be subjected to the hell of her removing her shoes!”


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Hidden 1 mo ago 1 mo ago Post by PapaOso
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PapaOso

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Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @princess Lottie, Victoria @Helo Callum, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo




The lovable bastard smirked as Charlotte giggled and bantered with Callum, her light-hearted mood was contagious to him. She’d been sipping on her drinks steadily, and he could see the alcohol loosening her up in ways he hadn’t seen before. The usual kindness in her eyes remained, but that barrier of caution seemed to be gone, replaced by a playful energy that was almost magnetic. He leaned back in his seat, watching as she teasingly suggested she might be Callum's sister. When she turned her gaze to him and claimed she’d already won the trophy for his suggested drinking contest, he couldn't help but grin.

“Oh, have you now?” His voice was low, teasing, his eyes dark with amusement as he leaned in slightly. “I’d be careful about making claims like that, Princess. I’m not one to be underestimated…Then again, perhaps neither are you.” He winked, letting his storm-gray eyes traveled over her face, studying the way her cheeks flushed as she sipped more of her drink.

Then, as Drake took to the piano and began his performance, Cassius’ gaze shifted to the stage. Drake introduced the next piece, and when he mentioned that the song had been composed by none other than Charlotte Vikena, his brows shot up. His attention snapped back to her, impressed but somehow unsurprised.

“Well, well… a legendary drinker and a composer. Is there anything you can’t do?” Cas teased, his voice carrying a note of admiration. He watched as her eyes darted around the room when Drake mentioned her name, a cheeky wave following as the attention turned toward her. She wasn’t shying away from the spotlight this time, and Cassius felt a swell of pride in her confidence.

He raised his glass. “To the talented Lady Vikena,” he exclaimed to their table, giving her another wink before downing the rest of his drink.

As the music played, Cassius found himself appreciating the beauty of the piece, though Cas could not help but wonder what it could have been if she had played it herself. However, as the last note of the song faded, things took a sudden turn. Drake stumbled, his words slurred, and the next thing Cassius knew, the birthday boy was tumbling off the stage, much to the gasps of the crowd. Cassius took it all in, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Drake’s mother, Victoria, who was already striding across the lawn with all the grace and fury of a storm. Cassius let out a low sigh as he watched the way she handled the situation.

“Does that one always make everything all about herself?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Victoria's hissed reprimands at Drake and the look on her face as she addressed Callum, who had gone to make sure Lord Edwards was alright, told him everything he needed to know about her. He couldn’t make out what exactly was said to the Prince, but honestly her expression was more than enough to understand that it wasn’t friendly.

The moment eventually settled and soon, Charlotte, her cheeks flushed and her eyes gleaming, turned back to him and Lorenzo, comparing Lorenzo to a ferret and suggesting that Cassius was more of a peacock. He couldn't help the laughter that escaped him. She was clearly tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, honestly so was he…which surprised him, but regardless, the way Lottie leaned closer, poking him in the chest with that mischievous grin, was too charming to ignore.

“A peacock, huh?” Cassius matched her energy in closing the distance, his voice dropping low, teasing her as his eyes locked onto hers. “So you’re saying I’m strutting around because I know I’m pretty?” His lips curled into a roguish grin. “Well, it’s nice to know you’re paying attention, Princess. Can’t say I’m surprised you find me beautiful.”

He held her gaze for a moment, the teasing edge in his voice softening slightly as he added, “But, if you think you’re the only one that can play this game you’re wrong.” He gave her a once over, studying her with his eyes inquisitively before continuing with confidence. “If I’m a peacock, Lottie…then that means that you are most definitely a swan. More than your share of elegance and grace, not to mention truly beautiful…but there's more to it than just that."

His expression shifted, becoming a bit more serious, though still laced with his signature charm and disarming smile. He took another sip of his cocktail and leaned even closer, this time his words were meant for her and her alone. He was so close, in fact, that the warmth of his breath could be felt on her neck. "Most people don’t realize just how fierce swans actually are. They're not just the most beautiful birds in the world, no, they will defend what they care about with everything they've got. That’s you, isn’t it? Underneath it all you’re the sweet girl everyone that matters can see…but that’s not all you are, is it Charlotte? I see more than that.”

He lingered in the moment before easing back into his seat, his eyes still locked on hers as if he could peer into her very core.
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Hidden 1 mo ago 1 mo ago Post by Lava Alckon
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Lava Alckon

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Farim

Location: Edwards Estate
Time: Morning of the 25th
Attire: Robes
Mentions: Anastasia/Charlotte @princess, Olivia @Potter, Ariella @tpartywithzombi, Zarai @Rodiak, Fritz @JJ Doe, and Stratya @CitrusArms

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Farim curled a smile at Zarai’s declaration. He searched his mind for the words - not having spoken this tongue in some time. Once he gathered the right meaning, he leaned in while still holding Anastasia in his arm. ”No dudo de tu encanto. No soy tímido cuando se trata de desafíos, porque puedo ser bastante... persuasivo.” The man let the words hang with a pleased expression on his face before leaning back in his seat. He meant no ill will of course - this was all part of the fun and he was rather enjoying his banter with the fine woman.

The next sequence of events definitely stirred a fire within the man. Back home he would definitely be far more brazen if a woman such as Anastasia doted over him so fondly - but this was a much more refined atmosphere. Full debauchery would not do. No…this required a delicate dance between two flirtatious souls in the midst of both fun and not-so-fun onlookers.

”Well, Anastasia my sweetheart, are you suggesting you need to find a place to let off some steam?” His voice rolled off the tongue with a sensual whisper into her ear followed by a chuckle. Her shifting in his lap did not go unnoticed, prompting him to shift in an equally promiscuous manner. At this point, Farim could hardly contain his own behavior - but as his hands glided along the front of her bodice, an announcement rang through the air from the birthday boy.

The performance was beautiful to Farim’s ears. His appreciation for music lended him the chance to fully immerse himself in the tones that this grand instrument played. ”I do wish we had many pianos back home - they sound so lovely don’t they?” He spoke to everyone at the table this time - simply enjoying the moment. Then the second piece was announced, tied with a pointed thank you at a certain “Charlotte Vikena”. His head shifted to eye the table across - a jolly group of individuals who seemed to be getting their drink on. Oh my, an admirer perhaps? But is she not already with that man there? This is certainly interesting…

The second piece continued with a similar level of grace and quality. Farim enjoyed listening to a live performance from one of the nobles of Caessonia. He considered it a treat, yet even as the second piece played his playful nature still persisted with the woman perched so perfectly on his lap. The same hand hovering on her midriff gently rubbed her dress with the ball of the man’s fingers. This continued throughout the piece and even as Drake went to give the crowd a bow. What happened next however - gave the Trade Prince quite the impression.

A young man tumbles, followed by the hushed sighs and oohs of the crowd. Then a young man, Anastasia’s brother Farim recalled, offered some reassurance - which was quickly dashed by a shouting woman who he could only presume was the young lord’s mother. Finally another fair lady approached which Farim immediately recognized as Ariella. That is right! This is the man who whisked her away the other night…so this is Ariella’s family? Explains why she likes to run off.. His heart went out to the pair of siblings. Seeing the way their mother tore into the pair both currently and just earlier as Ariella was berated for her lack of footwear.

But the ensuing chaos and heckling brought a smile to his face. Farim decided to act on his chaotic impulse and wrap a hand around the chin of the Princess. He was deliberately moving in such a way that she may even think he’d pop a kiss right there. But he slipped just past her ear to softly whisper to her. ”I must confess…as fun as it is to dance our little dance - decorum says I must behave myself. But perhaps later, we can work out some of these….frustrations.” He coyly suggested with a wink.

A quick flip of his hand snuck its way beneath the silky waves of her dress to rub the soft skin of the woman’s calf - all for but a fleeting moment as everyone's attention was drawn to the Edwards drama broiling in front of them. Then, as everyone began to look back to their own tables, the Shehzade wrapped his arms around her waist and rested then calmly in her lap as he smiled deviously at the Princess. ”Strip poker sounds great, so long as it is in the interest of everyone present.” Farim said with a nod towards the Knight Captain who had protested moments before.

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Hidden 1 mo ago 1 mo ago Post by Lava Alckon
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Lava Alckon

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Drake



Attire: Black/Green Coat, Black Dress Pants, and Black Shoes
Time: Morning of the 25th
Location: Edwards Estate
Mentions: Victoria, Callum @helo, and Ariella @tpartywithzombi





A lot had happened in such a short time. To Drake, the world simply dimmed as his senses dulled and the dizziness took him over - some would call this “the spins”. He would call it the weight of the anxiety or the performance taking over his motor skills - but this is an argument for another time.

While he gathered himself, the berating and shouting had been a slight buzz in his ear. He had however heard the biting comments from his mother - they held some truth, but she could have at least phrased it better. It was his birthday after all.

Drake stood on his own and brushed any grass or dirt off - taking a moment to fluff his hair and with that all-to-charismatic smile he held both his hands aloft ar everyone speaking to ask for a moment of silence. Once the pause we poignant enough - Drake said his piece.

”What a way to conclude a performance, am I right? I am sorry to frighten you all so much - you see I’ve been worrying about that performance all bloody week and I fear my jitters finally got the better of me at the end. But I assure you I am well! Just as all of us Edwards do, we handle such hiccups with elegance and grace.”

He gave his coat jacket another purposeful fluff and turned to his mother. ”Hors d'oeuvres sound lovely! I am rather famished too. Perhaps not the best idea to perform on an empty stomach - but I wanted to give Sorian a real proper recital.” He waved to everyone around, giving a proper non-addled bow this time. The man then let the crowd return to whatever conversations they may have had and turned on his heel to face Victoria. ”Such little faith, mother. I’ve had a five scotch breakfast and still gave a speech at that charity event last month but today I suddenly can’t hold my liquor in?” He chuckled and gave a slight wag of his finger ”I promise tis not the booze that made me fall. I’ve just been so very nervous about today. So please refrain from all this…yelling…” He shot his mom a look like that of a begging puppy for a moment - something only she and Ariella would really recognize.

Then he turned his attention to the young prince and his sister. ”You two! I am glad I caught you both. Would you both perhaps like to share a….” He paused as he likely felt the scowl of his mother as he suggested his. ”Liiiighter beverage over by the bar? I ought to thank you for coming to my aid Prince Callum - and I have been meaning to catch up with the two of you.” Drake motioned to the bar for them to continue if the two of them wished. Once his mother finished berating, lecturing, or chastising the trio - he would guide any interested parties over.

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Hidden 1 mo ago Post by Helo
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Helo Wonderlust King

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Time: 10am
Location: Drake’s Birthday Bash
Interactions: Lorenzo @FunnyGuy, Drake @Lava Alckon, Ari @Tpartywithzombi




Callum pulled his hand away once it was clear Drake didn’t want the help. Or maybe Drake didn’t want his help. So he turned to Dutchess Victoria,

“A flea? Dutchess, are you sure? Shall I ask for someone to inspect the royal locks?” He asked with a pleasant smile. “Slander against a prince is a crime, so if you think you might be wrong, now’s the time to admit it. I’d hate to make a spectacle of this.” Cal continued, still smiling. He gave Dutchess Cheese Feet some time to think on that, turning his back to her.

“Duke Vikena, please let’s not embarrass the Dutchess by informing everyone of her foul foot odor.” He loudly replied to the Duke who remained at a table several feet away. He hoped echoing the Duke kept that rumor sticking in people’s minds; let the Dutchess skip the hors d'oeuvres and enjoy some just desserts instead.

“Lady Ari,” Callum offered an awkward, drunken, bow. “Lord Drake.” He made the same gesture towards her brother. “I’d love to have a drink with the two of you.”

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Hidden 1 mo ago Post by Apex Sunburn
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Apex Sunburn Justified text enjoyer

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Time: Mid-morning
Location: The Range
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Keeping a warship up and running, as Sjan-dehk was quickly finding out, wasn’t exactly cheap.

That said, however, he did have some inkling of his Sada Kurau’s running costs. As her dutiful Captain, he made it a point to keep track of everything she used – in battle or otherwise – lost, or needed replacement, repairs, or restocking. He knew, for example, that since leaving Viserjanta for Caesonia, Sada Kurau had expended fifty-eight shells of various types. Two-and-a-half rolls of sailcloth had been used to maintain her sails. Roughly a mile of rope, to replace rigging that frayed from wear-and-tear.

And that was just what the ship herself had used. Her crew had consumed almost three tons of provisions of various sorts, and those would have to be replaced sooner rather than later. Similarly, the rifle and pistol cartridges that had been fired – five hundred-and-sixty-eight in total – would also need to be replaced in as short order as possible.

So, yes, Sjan-dehk had known about what it took to keep Sada Kurau operational. What he hadn’t known, and what he was now discovering, was the amount of money needed to purchase all those things.

An annoyed huff blew from Sjan-dehk’s nose. The fingers of one hand drummed an erratic beat against a gnarled, wooden tabletop. In the other, he held a brush with such force that it started to bend. Beneath the cooling shade of his hat, his eyes scanned the numbers and notes scrawled across the crumpled sheet of paper before him. With each row he looked over, his brow pushed closer and closer to each other, and his expression grew darker and darker, as if the paper that was somehow at fault for showing him calculations that were less than satisfactory.

He sighed and dipped the brush into an inkwell. “You’re a demanding lady, aren’t you?” he muttered under his breath as he scribbled another line, adding another item to the list; five barrels of gunpowder to replace the roughly six tons that had been used up.

Sjan-dehk clicked his tongue. None of this would be such a headache had he been in the Commonwealth; replenishment there was a simple matter of listing down everything Sada Kurau needed, bringing that list to the local Naval supply depot, and then waiting until the requested items were loaded into her holds. The monetary cost would be a problem for the Commonwealth Navy to handle, not Sjan-dehk.

But here in Caesonia, there was no such luxury. Sjan-dehk chewed on his lip. The final amount he arrived at for Sada Kurau’s approximate expenses didn’t look wrong, but neither did it look appealing. It was much larger than he would have liked, and he couldn’t see a way to make it any smaller without giving up things which he felt were utterly essential to keeping Sada Kurau fighting fit. Sjan-dehk wondered if this was why the Navy had entire offices dedicated to managing its finances.

“I don’t like this.” Kai-dahn’s dour voice came suddenly, and as a distraction Sjan-dehk welcomed.

He looked up at Sada Kurau’s Commander-of-Seaborne. “Neither do I, Commander,” Sjan-dehk said and tapped a finger on the paper. “But shit work’s still work, and someone has to do it.”

Grass crunched beneath sturdy, lightweight boots as Kai-dahn approached the table. Tall and well-built, he stood with his back ramrod-straight and hands folded neatly behind his back in front of Sjan-dehk. Despite the heat of the ascending sun, Kai-dahn looked immaculate in his uniform, with barely a crease of either of his tunics out-of-place, and his leather equipment sitting flush enough against his body to look tidy, but not so much that it wrinkled his clothes. His helmet – a conical hat made of hardened leather and steel – hung from his waist belt.

“My apologies, Captain,” Kai-dahn said with a bow of his head. “I should have made myself clear. I wasn’t talking about Sada Kurau’s expenses.” He threw a quick glance over his shoulder. When he turned back to Sjan-dehk, his lips were turned downwards in a severe frown. “I’m talking about what’s going on there.”

Sjan-dehk leaned to one side to look around Kai-dahn, the rickety folding chair beneath him creaking with his shifting weight. At a glance, Sjan-dehk saw nothing out of the ordinary. Sada Kurau’s crew were where Sjan-dehk had left them, gathered at the firing line. Granted, most of them were in some state of undress, with a handful having undone their sashes and opened their tunics to their waists, and most had taken off their webbing and helmets, leaving them stacked in neat piles on the grass.

But that wasn’t anything Sjan-dehk thought to be alarming. If anything, he was pleased to see that, despite having been given leave to rest, none of the crew had left their rifles unattended. They had their weapons either cradled in their arms, or slung behind their shoulders.

“You’re against them resting?” Sjan-dehk asked, looking at Kai-dahn with a raised brow.

The Commander frowned. “Captain, they’re fraternising,” he said pointedly. “That’s strictly prohibited under section twenty-eight of the Commonwealth Naval Book of Laws.” His face darkened, his usually impassive features cracking ever-so-slightly to reveal some modicum of displeasure. “I also caught some of the men exchanging arms with local troops.” By the tone he used with that last sentence, one could be forgiven for thinking that to be one of the gravest transgressions possible.

Sjan-dehk furrowed his brow. For a moment, he was confused; just who was Kai-dahn talking about? But, he soon remembered the dozen-or-so Caesonian soldiers who had arrived at the range not too long after Sjan-dehk had finished addressing his crew. He hadn’t paid them much attention – the Caesonians mostly kept to themselves and went about their business on their side of the range – but now as he examined the crowd once more, he did notice the neatly uniformed Caesonians mingling with the less-than-presentable crew of Sada Kurau. They communicated mostly with exaggerated gestures and stilted conversations, but that didn’t seem to get in the way of them getting along amicably, as far as Sjan-dehk could see.

Coincidentally, he also saw them swapping firearms, as Kai-dahn had mentioned.

Right away, Stratya’s words from the previous night surfaced in Sjan-dehk’s mind. From what little he had seen of the Caesonian’s shooting this morning, it was clear she had been telling the truth. Muzzle-loading and smoothbore, the muskets used by the Caesonians were wholly inferior to the rifles arming Sjan-dehk’s crew. In the time it took the former to load and fire a single shot, the latter would have already fired off five, or even six, if the shooter was skilled enough. And at a range of a hundred paces, each of those five or six bullets could be guaranteed to strike a target the size of an average person. A Caesonian musket couldn’t match even a third of that accuracy at half the distance.

With all that in mind, Sjan-dehk could see why Kai-dahn was concerned. Allowing the Caesonians to study and possibly replicate Viserjantan rifles would be, at the very least, irresponsible. At worst, it could be akin to surrendering a powerful battlefield advantage for no reason whatsoever. However, as much as he could understand Kai-dahn’s perspective, Sjan-dehk couldn’t say that he agreed with him.

“Fraternising only applies if they’re with the enemy, if I’m not mistaken,” Sjan-dehk started, bringing up his elbows to rest on the table, and supporting his chin with the backs of his hands. “Unless something terrible happened in the time it took me to put this abyss-forsaken list together, we’re not going to make enemies of the Caesonians. And as for the rifles…” He trailed off and nodded towards the crowd. “I don’t think they can understand each other enough to tell each other anything important. And besides, Mursi is there with them. He made the damn things, he’ll know what should or shouldn’t be shared and act accordingly.”

Kai-dahn didn’t look entirely convinced, but nevertheless, he nodded. “As you say, Captain.”

“We’ll have them back in action soon enough, anyway,” Sjan-dehk said, picking up the brush and twirling it around his fingers as he reluctantly returned his attention to Sada Kurau’s expenses. Kai-dahn remained standing, still as a statue, and eyes gazing dispassionately at his Captain. Sjan-dehk glanced at him from under the brim of his hat. An exasperated sigh left his lips, and he gave the empty chair beside him a hard nudge with the tip of his boot. “Might as well come help me with these fucking numbers, if you’re just going to stand around.”

Kai-dahn immediately marched himself around the table, coming to a stop directly behind Sjan-dehk’s right shoulder. The Captain shook his head. He didn’t doubt that had he said nothing, Kai-dahn would have just stood in front of the table until it was time for him to return to the firing line. “Sit down,” Sjan-dehk ordered and jerked a thumb towards the empty chair. “I need you to tell me how many cartridges we’re expected to use by the end of practice.”

“As you say, Captain.” Kai-dahn nodded, pulled the chair out, and sat down. Even with an action so simple and mundane, the Commander managed to make it seem like a military drill with the deliberateness and sharpness of his movements. He took a moment to straighten out invisible creases on his uniform before turning his body to look at Sjan-dehk’s list. “The men don’t seem to have much trouble with the new rifles, other than reloading the reloading drill, but that will come with use and practice.”

“They can’t reload properly?” Sjan-dehk’s brow creased. “Sounds like trouble to me.”

Kai-dahn shook his head. “Apologies, Captain. It’s nothing as major as that. They simply fall back on their old drills under stress. There’s no need for concern, Captain. I can assure you that all of them would be as capable on these new rifles as they were on the old ones by noon.” A pensive look came over his face and he looked at the firing line. “With your permission, Captain, I will have the men carry out a second round of familiarisation shooting before we move onto snap shooting and battle drills and commands. That should iron out most of the problems the men have with reloading.” He paused. Sjan-dehk turned his head to look at him, prompting him to continue. Kai-dahn cleared his throat. “That will be another twenty-four cartridges on top of the two hundred-and-fifty I’ve set aside for today, Captain.”

“That’s all I needed to know,” Sjan-dehk muttered and made the necessary amendments to his list. He sat back, holding it in his hands as he scanned through the rows of items and numbers. Then, with a grumble, he dropped it onto the table and made another change. “Better get another eighth-ton of powder to be on the safe side.” As he scribbled, he waved a hand towards Kai-dahn. “Do whatever you think is best for the crew, Commander.”

“As you say, Captain,” Kai-dahn replied. He glanced over the list, and frowned. “Captain, that’s not a list of our expenses for the day, if I’m not mistaken.”

“No, you are not,” Sjan-dehk muttered. “It’s for everything since we left the Commonwealth.”

Kai-dahn didn’t say anything immediately. For a few moments, the only sounds that reached either man’s ears were the vague chatter of soldiers, the quiet rustling of grass in the breeze, and soft birdsong coming from the trees just behind the range. “If I may ask,” the Commander began, clearing his throat. “Is there a reason you are doing this?”

“Better to get it over and done with, than to leave it and let it become a nasty surprise.”

“I understand that, Captain,” Kai-dahn said with a nod. “But we don’t have to calculate the exact costs, do we? I was under the impression that Sudah has people for this sort of work.”

“No, we don’t,” Sjan-dehk admitted, but continued scribbling nonetheless. He tapped the end of the brush on the table as he formulated an explanation. Even so, when he eventually spoke, his words didn’t sound as convincing as he had hoped. “But it’s better for us to know how much we’re spending. Especially when we’ll be stuck in this city for however long it’ll take for Lady Adiyan to become well enough for us to move.”

Kai-dahn grimaced. “That shouldn’t take more than a week. Master Sahm-tehn returned to duty in half that time after he lost his arm.”

“Master Sahm-tehn is a sailor like you and me,” Sjan-dehk replied drily. “And he’s likely made of the same wood as Sada Kurau. You can’t compare Lady Adiyan to him.” He drew in a deep breath, releasing it as a long, resigned sigh. “We should be prepared to stay here for at least a month. Maybe two. Either way, we’ll be here for much longer than planned, so we’ve to be ready for when Sudah can no longer sustain both us and herself with her supplies. Best we start finding ways to be at least somewhat independent.”

“But as you said, Captain, we still have a few weeks before supplies will become an issue.” Confusion was clearly written across Kai-dahn’s visage. “While I understand the need to be prepared, surely it would be a lot easier to come to a decision when we’re closer to that stage, and after we have exhausted all austerity measures as outlined in section thirty-one of the Commonwealth Naval Book of Laws? It would be wise to first consult with Sudah as well, to know their supply situation before coming up with our own plans.”

Sjan-dehk waved off Kai-dahn’s last sentence, but his own response died on his tongue. The Commander did have a point. Naval regulations provided Sjan-dehk with a list of possible actions to take when the risk of a supply shortage became a distinct possibility. He could, for example, enforce rationing to stretch what provisions they had left for as long a time as was physically safe. He could also keep Sada Kurau moored at harbour to reduce damages from sailing. Those were just two of the suggestions Sjan-dehk recalled out of a list that spanned pages. He felt almost certain that, if he cared to look through the Book of Laws, there would be at least a handful of suitable actions he could take.

Alternatively, he could – as Kai-dahn suggested – check with Sudah to see if he even needed to take such measures.

But, despite the doubt growing in him as he looked at the paper, Sjan-dehk said, “The Book of Laws was written with the assumption that we’d be in Commonwealth waters and not elsewhere. Its suggestions only account for things like food or water, and not money.” He paused, his eyes still glued to the list, seeing the words and numbers, but not reading them. “It assumes that we would only have to hold out as long as we need to either reach a harbour, or be resupplied by another ship. Money’s not an issue, there. But here, it is. We’ve to pay for everything we use, and while rationing and keeping Sada Kurau docked can avoid that issue for a while, it’s still an eventuality. I don’t want us to have a lack of local currency if and when we’ve to start relying on ourselves to keep Sada Kurau supplied.”

The more Sjan-dehk spoke, the less he felt like he was convincing Kai-dahn. If anything, his words felt like they were meant for himself. He shook his head slightly and continued. “I’ll send word to Sudah about our intentions, though. Let them know what we’re going to do.”

“And what are our intentions, Captain?” Kai-dahn asked.

Sjan-dehk’s answer came quickly. A little too quickly, surprising even himself. “Could try privateering.”

More surprising, however, was how easily Kai-dahn agreed to the idea. “A bit of action every now and then would keep the crew in practice, yes,” he said with a nod, his usually flat voice carrying the barest hints of excitement and approval.

A strange mix of uncertainty and hesitation stormed in Sjan-dehk’s heart, and he knew that it was certainly showing on his face. Had he hoped that Kai-dahn would be opposed to the idea? That someone would tell him that he was being rash with his plans? But that wasn’t the case, was it? This wasn’t something that he thought up on a whim; many considerations had gone into his decision to give privateering a go. It wasn’t as if there was much else a warship could do to earn her keep, and Sada Kurau wasn’t the sort of vessel which could be anything other than a warship.

And yet, Sjan-dehk couldn’t say anything until Kai-dahn called for him. “Captain?” The Commander asked with some concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Sjan-dehk replied even as he admonished himself. What was he, Sada Kurau’s Captain, doing? He couldn’t afford to be so indecisive. His crew would follow him no matter what choice he made, there wasn’t any question about that. And so he had to choose, and he had to be resolute about it. “Think they’ve had enough rest,” he said and nodded towards the firing line. “Let’s not waste any time. Get the crew back on the line and get them shooting. And get me the runner. Need him to send a message to Sudah.”

Kai-dahn got to his feet and saluted. “As you say, Captain,” he said with a nod. With that, he marched over to the disorganised crowd, barking orders along the way.

Sjan-dehk looked around the table and grabbed the first blank sheet of paper he could see. It didn’t seem as if anything important was written on the other side, and so he started writing his message for Sudah’s Captain and Lady Adiyan. With each painted stroke and each completed logograph, the doubts that had been in his mind faded. It was as if by writing this message, he was setting his decision into stone. It was no longer something to be questioned, but something to be acted upon.

And if there was one thing Sjan-dehk was good at doing, it was taking action.
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Hidden 1 mo ago 1 mo ago Post by princess
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Time:10am
Location: Edwards Estate - Drake's Party
Attire: Dress, Amulet
Interaction: @PapaOso Cassius @FunnyGuy Lorenzo


“Lottie that’s your song!”l

Lottie’s eyes sparkled, her tipsy grin widening as Lorenzo’s words washed over her. Was he proud of her? Perhaps even impressed? She held a big, stupid smile on her face, soaking in the warmth of his praise without even registering the tray of drinks he had requested. For a moment, everything felt light and easy, and she reveled in it.

When Cassius spoke, closing the distance between them, his teasing tone returned. His gaze was locked on hers, and she could sense the arrogance creeping back into his demeanor. Without missing a beat, she fired back, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Well, you certainly make sure no one could miss you with all that ‘subtle’ strutting around.”

As Cassius went on, labeling her a swan, the dynamic shifted. For a moment, Lottie’s gaze softened. The warmth of his breath brushing against her neck ignited a subtle flush in her cheeks, though the alcohol buzzing through her system helped her maintain her composure. Her heart quickened, but her boldness only grew.

“A swan?” she mused, her voice smooth and unhurried, savoring the compliment as if it was her due. “Well, I can’t say I mind the comparison.” Her eyes held his, a playful glint returning.

“And it seems in your world, we are both birds. They do say birds of a feather flock together, don’t they?” Her smile deepened as she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

“I suppose you’re alluding to that night you were... less than charming, and I had to get cross with you. Oh yes, I have not forgotten mister…” she continued, her words pointed but still playful. Her gaze sharpened slightly, though her smile never faltered. “Now, tell me, Cassius, you’re clearly not a man unaware of how to speak to a lady. So, was there a reason for it? Were you mocking me because of the rumors?”

With a smirk, she reached out, gently brushing a lock of hair from his face, ensuring he saw the look in her eyes before she leaned back into her seat, folding her hands elegantly in her lap.

Just then, Stratya’s outburst caught her attention. A giggle slipped from her lips, “Oh dear, that was quite funny, wasn’t it?”

Before she could think further, Lorenzo chimed in, adding fuel to the fire, as he so often did. Normally, a rush of anxiety would bubble up inside her, worrying over him. Instead, she found herself doubling over with laughter, covering her lips as she giggled uncontrollably.

In a sudden burst of spontaneity, Lottie kicked off her shoes and stood up to approach Lorenzo, wobbling slightly. She then told him as she took hold of his shoulders, “She’s got… cheesy toes!”

She spun around after the declaration, giggling to herself, only to stumble moments later. She hit the grass with a thud but erupted into laughter, the ridiculousness of it all making her laugh even harder.

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Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Mentions: @princess Lottie, @CitrusArms Stratya, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo






He couldn't help but be drawn in as Charlotte’s sharp tongue stoked the fires of his flirtation. Her playful wit, paired with the confidence to brush that lock of hair from his face, ignited something deep within him that caused his charming grin to widen. Even her teasing jab about "birds of a feather" made him chuckle, but her next question lingered in the air, stirring uncomfortable memories of the night they first met... a night when he had behaved more like a cad than a gentleman.

That soft inquiry about his behavior back then caused him to vividly recall how brash and flirtatious he had been. Seeing Charlotte at that door, her distress wrapped in beauty and melancholy, had sparked his reckless side. And, in his inebriation, he had thrown tact to the wind, letting his arrogance do the talking.

A subtle regret twinged at him now as he remembered her stiffening under his gaze, the way her eyes had cooled after his crude remarks. He knew well enough that in their world, such behavior marked a man as a rake, but had he truly been that out of line? Had his advances really crossed into the inappropriate? Part of him wanted to explain, to tell her that it had been a bad night, that he was too far lost in his own chaos to consider the impact of his words. But even he knew that wasn’t entirely true.

In his previous world, that kind of behavior had been commonplace. More than that, really…it had been rewarding to a debonair man of his caliber. Though he meant no harm by his crudeness it was clear that to her it had not been the best look…nor anything even resembling a good look at all. And that mattered to him, for some reason. The difference in the way she looked at him that night compared to how she looked at him at the masquerade, and even here now…for whatever reason, it meant something to him.

Was it simply one of the bad habits he’d picked up during his mercenary days, a part of the man he’d been but could no longer afford to be? Or was it something deeper, something ingrained in his nature that would rear its head again despite his best efforts to tame it? Even he, with all his self-awareness, didn’t know the answer.

But before he could even begin to form a response, the chaotic energy of the gathering shifted when Stratya’s outburst interrupted the moment, followed by Lorenzo’s own rebelliously absurd display. The air buzzed with laughter, and he had to swallow his words for the moment. His focus diverted as Charlotte kicked off her shoes and joined the raucous fun and defiance of that Duchess bitch’s demands.

Cassius grinned, watching her stumble and fall into the grass, her laughter light hearted and infectious. His heart warmed as he saw her embrace the levity of the moment, allowing herself to be carefree.

"Well, well, Princess." He muttered under his breath to himself, shaking his head with amusement. Taking a swig from his drink, he tipped it back until the last drop was gone before setting it down with a bit more force than intended.

Standing up a little too quickly, Cassius found himself stumbling, a sharp reminder of just how potent these cocktails had been. “Shit…” He chuckled, his balance betraying him for a second as he wobbled on his feet. With a mischievous grin, he kicked off his boots, following Charlotte’s lead, and let himself tumble right into the grass beside her.

The cool earth beneath him felt oddly comforting, and as he landed, laughter bubbled up from his chest, escaping in a devil-may-care moment of pure bliss. He turned his head toward her, eyes glimmering with clear affection mixed with a handsome dash of mischief.

"I’m not entirely sure what we’re doing, but whatever it is, I’m all in, Princess." He teased lightly, his voice warm as he let the moment hang between them...for the moment free of past regrets and brimming with shared joy.


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Cynwaer & Quack



The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows across the stonewalls of the underground chamber. Crates and barrels were stacked haphazardly throughout the space as a group of commoners, young and old, worked to organise the supplies. The scrape of wood against stone and murmured conversations echoed off the walls, punctuated by the occasional giggle or shout from the children who darted between the adults, more interested in their games than the work at hand.

Sexton “Quack” Cryer stood hunched over a sturdy wooden crate, his brow furrowed in concentration as he examined its contents, comparing them to the list he held. He scratched his quill against parchment as he tallied each item.

Suddenly, a commotion near the entrance disrupted the steady rhythm of work. Excited voices steadily grew to a crescendo and the children abandoned their mischief and scampered towards the newcomer. The young women beside Quack began to titter and grin, smoothing their hair and adjusting their skirts as they shot coy glances towards the approaching figure.

But Quack ignored it all. Even when Cynwaer’s rich voice called out a greeting, he continued inventory-taking.

Quack hadn’t been an easy man to find. He never was, which – all things considered – Cynwaer took to be a good thing. It was hardly appropriate for a man of Quack’s line of work to be easily found. But then again, Cynwaer hadn’t tried particularly hard to find the man. It had just slipped his mind, that’s all. Getting reacquainted with a city as sprawling as Sorian took time for anyone, what more for Cynwaer, who hadn’t stepped onto its streets in ages?

Surely, it had nothing to do with Cynwaer dragging his feet. Or with him having a few drinks with that foreign captain the previous night.

He shrugged to no one in particular as he walked between stacks of crates and barrels. It didn’t matter, he supposed. If Quack was as good as he was supposed to be at what he did, he would already know that Cynwaer was in the city as soon as Remembrance slipped into harbour. And if Quack had really wanted to see him, then surely he would have sent for him.

With smiles and waves, Cynwaer greeted the children that ran up to him before advising them to return to their work, lest they draw the ire of their crotchety overseer. Similarly, he flashed winks and grins to the ladies who looked his way. “Mornin’ lassies,” he said politely with nods to each of them before pointing to whatever it was that required their attention. “Best youse get back tae yet work, aye. Would’nae wan’tae make yer boss lose ‘is ‘ead, would we nae?” The ladies giggled and nodded in response.

That Quack didn’t even acknowledge his presence bothered Cynwaer little. He had expected as much from the man. Instead, the Remembrance’s Captain merely sidled up to the man, taking his time to lean against a stack of crates before pulling out a sack of coins and jiggling in front of Quack’s face, almost teasingly. “Regards frae Renny, Songbird, and mesel’,” he said and placed the sack on top of whatever it was Quack had been examining. “Cheers fae sendin’ us ta’ word. ‘At’s one less taxman and a dozen or sae less o’ the king’s lads.”

One... two... three beats of silence passed, broken only by the rhythmic scritch-scratch of Quack’s quill. The ladies fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot and casting uneasy glances between Cynwaer and Quack. Cynwaer cast reassuring glances at them over his shoulder. This was just part of their banter; there was nothing to be worried about.

Finally, a petite blonde cleared her throat. “Erm... Sexton?”

Quack’s head jerked up, his eyes widening as they landed on the sack of coins. “Cor love a duck! Where in the bleedin’ ’ells did this come from?” The man’s brogue thickened noticeably, as it always did when he was irritated.

He thumbed through his papers, “Ain’t no mention of this ’ere.” Scooping up the bag, he tossed it at a buxom brunette. “Oi, Moll! Take this to Bess, will ya? ’Ave ’er count the brass.”

“Right away,” Moll replied, hesitating. She glanced at her friend, then at Cynwaer, clearly at a loss.

The blonde stepped in. “Sexton, love, it’s Cynwaer. He’s here.”

Quack spun around, his face a mask of exaggerated shock. “Wot? Cynwaer, ye say? The same galoot wot couldn’t be arsed to send word ’e’d be two days late? Left us wonderin’ if ’e’d gone and got ’imself scragged? The same cheeky bugger wot thinks a man’s time ain’t worth a fleck of dust and can just waddle in whenever ’e bloody well pleases? And don’t even ’ave the decency to beg pardon? That Cynwaer?” He made a show of scanning the room, gaze sliding right past Cynwaer. “I don’t see ’ide nor ’air of ’im.”

Cynwaer rolled his eyes, but allowed Quack to carry on.

“Nah,” Quack added, returning to work, “our Cyn might be a rude git, but ’e ain’t soft in the ’ead. ’E wouldn’t dare show ’is fizog ’round ’ere without a peace offerin’ fer ’is tardiness. Like a few bottles of the good stuff ’e’s plundered, maybe.”

“Sorry pal, but if I ‘ad any o’ the good shite, I’d ‘ave drunk it aw’ mesel’,” Cynwaer said, shaking his head and chuckling. He hovered around Quack like a fly buzzing around honey. “Come now, there’s nae need tae be sae upset, aye? I ‘ad me reasons tae be late this time.” The lilting tone in his words and lightness of his voice betrayed his amusement with the whole situation. “An’ it’s aw’ good ones tae, aye.”

When that still failed to get Quack to respond, he sighed. “The last ship I ‘eld up ‘ad nothin’ but a few tuns o’ blastin’ powder, nothin’ yer cannae get on yer ane wi’ less trouble, I reckon. Besides, I used most o’ it tae turn our taxman an’ some o’ ta’ king’s lads intae butcher’s work.”

He looked over his shoulder at the blonde, giving her a smile, a nod, and a small gesture for her to leave them for now. “Cheers, lass,” he mouthed to her before returning his attention to Quack, a serious expression hardening his features. “I’m nae here fae a social visit, pal. I’m just ‘ere tae dae a favour fae Renny an’ Songbird. Ta’ twa o’ ‘em tell me that folks ‘ave been gae’n missin’, an’ obviously in enough numbers tae make ‘em worried, aye. Yer probably ta’ best man tae ask fae somethin’ like this, but yer know ‘ow it’s like. ‘Tis always best tae get yersel’ stuck in before dae’n anythin’ else. So now I’m ‘ere, aw’ stuck in an’ lost, an’ offerin’ yer a trade. If yer’ve any bit o’ information on these missin’ folk, I’ll take ‘em in exchange fae a favour done yer way.”

This was a risky play, Cynwaer knew. For all he knew, Quack’s price could prove to be far more trouble than it was worth, or Quack might not even have what he wanted in the first place. But it was a risk Cynwaer considered worth taking. Investigative work had never been his strength, or even something he liked; he simply hadn’t the patience or aptitude for it.

Quack let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head. “’Pon me life, Cyn, yer tighter than a duck’s arse in water. Can’t even shell oot fer a wee dram, can ye? Bloody cheapskate, ye are.”

With a sharp whistle, Quack summoned a lanky young lad who rushed over to his side. After removing a sheet of paper, he handed the rest to the lad along with the quill. “Finish this ’ere fer me, will ye? There’s a good lad.”

Turning to Cynwaer, Quack jerked his head towards the entrance. “Right then, ye great lummox. Let’s ’ave us a proper chin-wag. Come on, shift yer arse.”

As he led Cynwaer through the twisting passages, dodging barrels and crates, he continued, “Now then, gie us the particulars, Cyn. Ye might nae believe it, but there’s mair folk gone missin’ than ye might reckon. Only reason it ain’t common knowledge is ’cos it’s rarely the toffs what vanish, ye ken?”

Cynwaer grimaced. He understood perfectly. A noble goes missing, and the entire city would be up in arms. Perhaps even the entire kingdom. But a commoner? Whole streets of them could up and disappear, and few would care. Fewer still would even notice.

They stopped in a quiet alcove where the torchlight barely reached. Quack fixed Cynwaer with a shrewd look. “So, oot wi’ it. Who exactly are ye lookin’ fer?”

“Nae’dy in particular,” Cynwaer replied. Neither Songbird nor Renegade had told him anything in that regard, and Cynwaer hadn’t expected them to. People were going missing, and that was all the pair – and Cynwaer himself – needed to know. And besides, if someone they knew had truly gone missing, Renegade and Songbird wouldn’t have bothered with sending Cynwaer ahead to investigate. The two of them would have likely torn Sorian apart brick-by-brick themselves.

Cynwaer scratched the back of his head. “Knowin’ Renegade and Songbird, they’re nae after just rescuin’ one or twa. They’re gae’n tae wan’ tae take the ‘ole damn operation down an’ tear it up by ta’ roots, an’ to tell yer ta’ trut’, that’s what I’m thinkin’ o’ dae’n mesel’.” He paused, hoping that the weight of what he was saying was sinking in. He didn’t know about Quack, but he had no illusions that this would lead to anything other than major – and very violent – actions.

“Sae if there’s anythin’ yer know about what’s gae’n on, it’d be real ‘elpful if yer could dae us a favour an’ share,” Cynwaer continued. “Especially if yer ‘ave any idea who’s behind it. I dae’n wan’ tae walk intae a fight when I dae’n e’en know who ta’ feck I’m fightin’, yer ken?”

Quack kneaded his forehead, exhaling forcefully through his nostrils. “Blimey, that’s about as useful as a lead balloon, innit? Ye can pass that on to yer Renegade an’ Songbird mates too. Might as well be tryin’ to nail jelly to the wall.” He fell silent for a moment, his eyes taking on a distant look as he seemed to rummage through the cluttered attic of his mind. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, a glimmer of recollection sparking to life.

Cynwaer chuckled. Quack wasn’t wrong; Renegade and Songbird had pretty much tasked him with seeking for a needle in a haystack. Only in this case, he wasn’t even sure if it was a needle which he sought, or even if he should be looking in haystacks. “Well, yer can tell ‘em yersel’ in a week or twa when they get ‘ere.”

“There’s been mutterin’s makin’ ’round in the rookeries ’bout some crew wha’s been climbin’ the greasy pole right quick in Caesonia. Bunch of wrong ’uns, they are.” He leaned against the stone wall. “Word is, they’ve got their fingers in more pies than a baker’s dozen. Every dodgy deal, like human traffickin’,” Quack emphasized, “and honest trade from ’ere to the bleedin’ horizon, they’re in on it. Buildin’ a right proper empire, they are, right under our very noses. But ’ere’s the rub…” The man hunched forward, “They got the backin’ of toffs.” Slowly, he lifted his finger to point upward, “Maybe even the Crown.”

That was close to what Cynwaer had guessed. He hadn’t believed for a moment that something as brazen as the abduction of dozens – even if they were of commoners – could go unnoticed in Sorian without the involvement of influential, powerful, and rich people. “Well, aw’ empires ‘ave a lifespan,” he said with a grin that wasn’t as cocksure as he had hoped it would be. And could anyone blame him? To call the task ahead daunting would be an understatement. Especially if Quack was right, and the Crown was indeed involved.

Cynwaer shook his head slightly. There was no point in fretting over that now. He had to focus on what he could do, and worry about the rest later. Otherwise, the anxiety would surely render him paralysed. “I reckon they’d ‘ave tae smuggle folk by ship an’ nae sae much by land. It’d be a lit’le hard tae drag sae many unwillin’ folk out ta’ gates, aye?” He mused aloud. It was a gamble, and one that seemed more and more like a longshot the more he thought about it. But it was at least something with which he could work.

“I’ll take ol’ Remembrance out tae sea taenight an’ see if I can catch ‘nybody tryin’ tae slip awa’ frae Sorian ‘arbour. Reckon they’d try tae use cover o’ dark.” He looked at Quack. “Might ‘ave ta’ trouble yer, pal, tae ‘elp disappear ‘nyone I might end up rescuin’. Think it’s bet’er if they leave Sorian entirely, or go tae ground, aye?”

“Aye, ye can count on us, Cyn,” Quack replied without hesitation as he clapped a hand on Cynwaer’s shoulder, a resolute fire burning brightly behind his eyes. “Wot’s a bunch o’ rabble-rousers like us good fer if not fer the common folk, eh?”

“As fer wot to do wiv ’em after... well, that’s a pickle, ain’t it? Reckon we’ll ’ave to suss it out as we go along. Some might need to scarper right quick, others might do better layin’ low ’ere fer a spell.” His expression grew grave, his brow furrowing. “Thin’ is, mate, there’s summat else ye ought to know. When I said this lot is involved in every dodgy deal, I weren’t just flappin’ me gums. I mean every bleedin’ deal, includin’ magic.”

“If these bastards are nabbin’ folk left, right, and centre. who’s to say they ain’t usin’ some hocus-pocus ta make it easier? Could be turnin’ their victims into mindless puppets, or wipin’ the guard’s memories clean as a whistle. What if we do take ’em in and the bastards ’ave got ’em under a hex and sniff out our hideaways? Or worse yet, the poor sods just go off like a powder keg, blowin’ us all to smithereens?”

Cynwaer grimaced. That was something he hadn’t considered. “Ah feck, ‘tis times like these I’d rather ‘ave Songbird around. They’ve a good nose fae aw’ this magic shite. But I s’pose I’ll ‘ave tae think o’ somethin’ when it comes tae it. Fae aw’ I know, I might end ta’ night with not’in’ tae show fae it.”

He planted both his hands on Cynwaer’s shoulders, his tone deadly serious. “Ye best be ready fer anythin’, Cyn.”

“Aye, dae’n worry yer head about me,” Cynwaer replied and pulled away from Quack. “Yer might ‘ave tae worry mer about ta’ taxman we blew up, though,” he said as he made to go back the way he had come. “Reckon ta’ king’s gae’n not’ice saen that ‘e’s nae get’in’ aw’ ‘is coin, an’ e’s gae’n start lookin’ fae answers.”

Quack shrugged, “Aye, an’ we know nowt ’bout it, do we? Nothin’ but reg’lar folk doin’ reg’lar commoner stuff.”

He ambled after the other man and jabbed a finger accusingly at Cynwaer’s face. “Wot you need ta worry ’bout is ’ow ta make up fer bein’ a tardy stingy bastard.” When they reached a junction, Quack made to turn off, waving. “It better be good too, ya ‘ear? Summat I can share wi’ the uvvers.”

A low chuckle rumbled from Quack as he disappeared around the corner, wondering how long it would take the poor sod to discover the crudely scrawled note he’d left stuck to his back.
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Hidden 1 mo ago Post by JJ Doe
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Fritz "Ryn" Hendrix
Time: Sola 25 1739; Daytime Hours
Location: Edwards Estate, Drake Edwards’ Birthday Party
Interaction(s)/Mention(s): Everyone around the tables

The lord’s birthday celebration took an unexpected turn. The once refined atmosphere quickly gave way to something rowdier, more reminiscent of a tavern at night than a noble gathering. Inhibitions loosened, voices grew louder, and hands wandered with newfound boldness.

A frisson of worry threaded through Ryn’s thoughts. The last party involving nobility and alcohol had ended with collective amnesia and a surfeit of unanswered questions.

He plucked a glass from the nearby table, held it up to the light. Through his spectacles, he examined the liquid, shimmering innocently within, then brought it to his nose. The pungent aroma made him wrinkle his nose, but small relief softened his features. “Hmm. And here I thought this would be a family-friendly party,” he remarked as he placed the glass back down.

Smiling, Ryn addressed the group, “I suppose this means the scheduled debauchery has been bumped up to brunch time, then?”

From an inner pocket, Ryn produced a well-worn deck of cards. “Shall we play out here where everyone can admire the gradual unveiling of nature’s finest sculptures, or shall we move somewhere more private?” He chuckled, “I’m equally open to playing games that don’t involve disrobing.”
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