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Hidden 3 days ago Post by ReusableSword
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ReusableSword The (not so) Mighty.

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Time: 11am
Location: Sorian Gallery of Fine Arts
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Mentions in order:
outfit: Uncomfortable fancy metal clothing.





The ride over to the art gallery was uneventful. If it wasn’t for what he was wearing Roman would have walked, yet he was a bit too flashy for even his liking. The decision was made, and he was outvoted to the type of attire he was to wear for this outing. He understood but he still didn’t like it.

What was decided was some of the more eccentric and complicated attire they had made. A pauldron wrapped itself around his left shoulder and covered the magic caused injuries on his left arm down to his fingers. It was a wearable puzzle, an intricate piece of several thousand cut out shapes of different kinds of metal each in a different unique shape and size. Polished to a near mirror shine, the unique material could move like normal fabric but could also be just as sturdy as real armor if twisted the right way.

The next part of his walking art piece that he wore was a bronze-colored jacket with hundreds of carved and shaped scales layered over one another. Each scale was etched with designs, some random designs and shapes others depicting ancient sea monsters or legends. A scaled wire coiled around his torso and right arm ending in the head of a snake at his wrist, it looked like it was intertwined and made into the suit. Yet, it moved like it wasn’t attached to him at all.

The last part of his ensemble was the cascading scales from his jacket past his knees. The colors of his house checkered dark blue and black poking out from under the long jacket. For him it was a fancy rendition of their culture. The kilt being part of it, as part of their artistic style metal and armor was typically worn as ceremonial wear of some kind.

These were the kind of things roman didn’t enjoy, being a walking advertisement was one thing but now he had to put on a fake smile on top of it. He should have gone to that theater at least there he wouldn’t have to wear this, this uncomfortable garment that pinched and pulled hair. At least it was protective and not meant just for looks.

There were two others in the carriage with him, two of the guards Sven and Erik assigned to him. They were wearing matching outfits, loose formal clothing that professionally hid the body armor underneath. One noticed his lord’s uncomfortable movements, “at least you look nice my lord.” A snicker escaped the other guard. Roman replied with a sneer, “next time you two can wear this.” They all smiled the other guard spoke up just as they were arriving, “Id rather eat a bowl of Astri’s mystery meat stew.” Silence for just a moment then All of them laughed together.

The Carriage rolled to a stop in front of the gallery, the door opened and Roman stepped out his guards following close behind. He took it in for a moment before entering, the sights, sounds, smells, mostly the building. The architecture of this place was a little much, but it was to be expected given the current ruler. The trio stepped up and through the main entrance and met with a kind receptionist that quickly made name tags for each of them. It was nice but roman was here to meet someone and ultimately decided to stand to the side so that both him and his date could explore the art works.
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Hidden 2 days ago 1 day ago Post by Tpartywithzombi
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Tpartywithzombi “Strong women are absolutely unpredictable.”

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Hidden 2 days ago Post by Apex Sunburn
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Apex Sunburn Justified text enjoyer

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Kalliope & Sjan-dehk Part Two


Date: Sola 26th
Time: Evening
Location: Estate of lesser nobles merchant Lord Edric


She didn’t stop until they were safely out of sight, tucked away in a quiet hallway up past the stairs. Once she was sure they were alone, she released his hand and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though her emerald eyes still carried a flicker of excitement.

“Well,” she said, glancing up at him with a sly smile, “we can breathe for a moment, though I imagine this is only the beginning of the fun.” She stepped closer, her voice softening, this time devoid of her flirtatious persona. “You know, you’re quite good at this. I know this is kind of out of your comfort zone and for that, I truly am grateful to you.” Kalliope’s smile softened as she looked up at Sjan-dehk, her usual playful edge dimming to something more genuine. For a moment, she let herself linger in the quiet between them, her eyes tracing the lines of his face and her thoughts slipping past her carefully crafted walls.

Sjan-dehk flashed her grin. “Glad that you are, though I think you’re doing most of the work here. I’m just following along.” They weren’t idle words; he was quite impressed by how quickly Kalliope could think on her feet, and how expertly she went about her business.

It was unspoken, the way her heart beat faster when he was near, the way his steadiness anchored her chaos. She knew shouldn’t be thinking about the warmth of his hand in hers or the way his voice, even awkward, stirred something deeper within her. And yet, she found herself speaking before she could stop the words. “You make it far too easy to forget this is all an act,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper as her gaze dropped to his lips for the briefest of moments before snapping back to his eyes.

Kalliope’s words didn’t go unnoticed by Sjan-dehk. He intended to pretend as if he had missed them, but then as luck would have it, he caught her gaze just as she looked at him. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the blood still rushing in his head, or his still-drumming heart, but something about her captivated him, and for a moment stole all the words he had in his mind. Were it her eyes, bright as they were in the low light of the hallway? Or perhaps her face, pretty and alluring as it was?

Or maybe it was because of memories of her hand in his, and the way her lips parted–

Sjan-dehk put a quick stop to those thoughts. Enough. This wasn’t the time for any of that. In fact, he was quite certain that there wasn’t any time for such thoughts. Kalliope was a friend, and a good one at that. He couldn’t, he shouldn’t start thinking of her in such a manner just because excitement got his blood pumping and his heart racing.

“Oh, well,” he said at last, bashfulness laden in his voice. “Glad…Glad to be of service. And you, ah, you are very convincing as well. But I suppose if even I can forget it’s an act knowing it’s one, it just shows how good you are.”

Realizing what she’d said, her breath caught, and she quickly added, “You know, for the crowd’s benefit, of course.” But the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her, and she found herself wishing she could take a step back from the strange, unfamiliar vulnerability that had slipped through.

“Yes, for the crowd,” Sjan-dehk replied quickly. Almost too quickly. “But it was…It was fun,” he added without even thinking. “And ah, for what it’s worth, I…Uh, I don’t think I could’ve done it with anyone else.” Then, realising what he had just said, he hastily added again, “I mean, you acted and reacted really fast to everything, you know? I, ah, I just that you…You offset my uh…”

Mentally, he cursed himself for stammering and tripping over his words like a fool. He stopped, drew in a deep breath, and tried again. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re good at this. That…That probably made things a lot easier for the both of us.” His words came out sounding far more awkward than he would have liked, and probably didn’t even sound convincing, but they would have to do. Any more, and he would simply be digging himself a deeper pit.

He looked back the way they had come, partially to avert his gaze out of embarrassment, but also to make sure that they hadn’t been followed. “Looks like we slipped away,” he said, turning back to face Kalliope. His eyes fell upon her face, and those unwanted thoughts from earlier drifted into his mind once more, teasing him. Redness tinged his cheeks, and he swiftly looked away. “So, ah, where are we going? There’s a lot of rooms here, by the looks of things.”

Kalliope’s breath caught again as she watched Sjan-dehk stumble through his words. His awkwardness, his earnestness, it was all so disarming in a way she hadn't quite anticipated. For a moment, she simply stood there, her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. His gaze, his voice, the way he made her feel like the world outside of them didn’t matter—it all pulled her in deeper. She was acutely aware of the fluttering in her chest, and for the briefest second, she thought she might not be able to keep her mask in place much longer.

But then, like a wave crashing against the shore, reality pulled her back. She shook her head slightly, focusing once more on the task at hand. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in her feelings, not now. Not yet.

“Ah, well,” she began, her voice steadier now as she found her footing again, “Thank you, years of practice I suppose. However, I’m afraid we don’t have time for any more distractions.” She straightened slightly, her usual confidence returning with a practiced ease. “Earlier today, I managed to steal the blueprints for this house. After reviewing them, I’ve narrowed down the two most likely rooms for study. Though, there's one I'd put my money on being the right choice as it's a bit more secluded.”

Kalliope’s eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and intrigue as she began to move toward the corridor beyond them, the air between them now thick with purpose. “I’ll lead the way. Just stick close, and we’ll be in and out before anyone notices.”

Her footsteps were silent as she made her way down the corridor and she blended in with the shadows incredibly well. A few turns later and they were in front of a door. She listened for a moment just to make sure there was no one inside before attempting the door. “Damn.” She said as it didn't budge. “Good thing I brought these with me.” She said with a grin as she looked at Sjan-dehk and pulled out a small set of lockpicks hidden within her hair.

“Convenient,” Sjan-dehk quipped before standing back, using his body to cover as much of Kalliope as he could while she worked. He threw glances up and down the hallway, keeping a vigilant eye out for anyone that might stumble across them.

She dropped to her knees and started working at the door. Kalliope’s heart beat just a little faster as she watched the door swing open, her grin widening when the lock gave way with ease. She’d always had a talent for getting past locked doors, and tonight was no different. “Bingo,” she murmured, pushing the door open with a flourish as she stepped into the room. It was dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners, but it was exactly what she’d hoped for—quiet, secluded, and well off the beaten path. Perfect for what they needed.

She looked over her shoulder at Sjan-dehk, her emerald eyes gleaming with determination once more. “Alright, let's start looking for anything unusual. Letters, notes, anything that might give us a clue as to what’s really going on here.” She gestured vaguely around the room, her voice steady, though her mind was still buzzing with the rush of the break-in. “Be thorough, but quick. We don’t have much time before someone comes this way according to that group.”

Turning her attention to the desk at the far end of the room, Kalliope’s gaze sharpened as she approached it. The desk was large and ornate, but to her trained eye, it was simply another place where secrets might be hidden. She ran her fingers over the surface, examining the drawers first, but there was nothing unusual. They were locked, of course, but she had anticipated that. The thief in her smirked as she went about unlocking them as well.

Her thoughts wandered for a moment, but she pushed them aside. There was no room for distractions now, not when she could feel the weight of their mission pressing down on her. She flicked open the first drawer, her eyes scanning the contents—a few papers, a sealed envelope, a delicate silver letter opener. She ignored the letter opener for now and pulled out the papers, rifling through them quickly. A brief glance at the writing revealed nothing of interest, just mundane correspondence.

With Kalliope picking through the back of the room, Sjan-dehk decided to focus his attention towards the area around the door. That suited him perfectly – it allowed him to keep a close eye on the door, as well as a close ear on the hallway outside, while they worked.

There wasn’t much for him to investigate, however. A few shallow stacks of papers sat near the foot of a cabinet, but they turned out to be nothing more than either blank, unused sheets, or scraps with only a handful of jagged lines scratched across them. He stood up from them, his lips pressed into a thin line cutting between his jowls, and went on to examine the cabinet. A few tugs on the beautifully carved wooden handles told him that its doors were locked. He let out a low grumble, and was about to call for Kalliope’s help when he pulled a little harder.

As it turned out, they hadn’t been locked, but had simply been jammed. For a brief moment, he felt a little pleased with himself, but that feeling quickly disappeared when he realised that if the closer had been left unlocked, then it was unlikely that he would find anything useful in it.

A rack of clothes greeted his eyes. Coats, jackets, shirts, all of them seemed to have been left where they were for a long time, but none of them seemed out-of-the-ordinary. And as Sjan-dehk cautiously pushed them aside, he found only more ordinary things. Folded trousers on a shelf above, mothballs collecting in the corners, and a pair of shoes left messily on the closet’s floor. Nothing that shouldn’t belong in such a piece of furniture.

He frowned and knelt to pull out the drawers at the bottom of the closet. They slid out easily enough, and were mostly empty. One contained a few pairs of socks and nothing else, whilst the other didn’t have anything at all. A frustrated huff left his nose, but just as he was about to shut them, something about the empty drawer stopped him. It didn’t look right, and when he reached in to give the drawer’s bottom a few raps of his knuckles, he realised why.

The thing had a false bottom.

She moved on to the next drawer, and again, the contents seemed harmless. More papers. Nothing that screamed “secret plans” or “hidden agenda.” She opened each drawer methodically, checking behind objects, flipping through documents, but there was nothing here.

“Damn it.” She grumbled as frustration bubbled up in her chest, but she fought it down. This wasn’t over yet. There had to be something. She glanced up to where Sjan-dehk was, hoping he was doing better than she was. “Any luck on your end?”

“Aye, I found–” Sjan-dehk started, but then cut himself off abruptly when he heard the low thumps of approaching footsteps outside. “Fuck,” he swore, his voice suddenly dopping to a hushed, but clearly urgent whisper. He swiftly slid the drawers back into place and shut the closet. “Someone’s coming, and they’re coming fast,” he said in a voice just loud enough to be heard by Kalliope.

Kalliope froze for half a second at Sjan-dehk’s warning, her mind racing. The sound of footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway, growing louder, closer. “Shit.” She cursed under her breath, her hands already moving to straighten the desk. Each item was carefully placed back exactly as she’d found it, her movements quick but precise.

As she picked up the last opened letter she’d discarded as mundane earlier, something caught her eye—something she hadn’t noticed before. The handwriting, though tidy, had subtle irregularities. Certain letters were slightly slanted, others unusually bold. Patterns. It struck her like a bolt of lightning. This wasn’t just a letter. It was a code.

Her breath hitched, her mind screaming at her to hurry, but she couldn’t just leave it. Without another thought, she snatched it up, folded it swiftly, and slipped it down the front of her bodice, tucking it securely between her skin and her corset. Whatever it was, it was coming with her.

“Alright,” she breathed, her voice low and urgent as she moved towards the door. The footsteps outside were growing louder, closer. They had three options, go out the front and talk their way out, hide in the small closet and risk being stuck there for who knows how long, or go out the window and risk not being able to get back in and getting caught. She didn’t have time to think it through, only to act. Turning back to Sjan-dehk, she made a split-second decision. “We’re going out the front.”

She grabbed his arm, and tugged him toward the door. Gently, she eased it open just a crack, peering out into the hallway. The footsteps were nearly upon them, but she judged they had mere seconds before whoever it was rounded the corner. It was a risk, but it was the only chance they had now.

“Come on,” she whispered sharply, and without waiting for him to reply, she slipped out into the corridor, pulling him along behind her. The door clicked shut softly behind them, and she pressed herself against the wall just to the side of the door. Kalliope’s pulse thundered in her ears as she listened to the approaching footsteps. She knew they were going to be caught, there was no getting around it, she was just trying to formulate a plan to talk their way out. Her mind raced for a way out, a way to salvage the situation.

And then it hit her.

She turned to Sjan-dehk, her expression suddenly filled with a mix of determination and regret. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, so softly it was almost drowned out by the sound of boots hitting the floor just around the corner.

Before he could respond, she grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him toward her. Her back pressed firmly against the wall as she tilted her head up, and in one fluid motion, her lips found his. The kiss was bold, urgent, and entirely unhesitating. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his coat as she held him close, her body flush against his. Every muscle in her tensed, bracing for the inevitable.

Sjan-dehk’s eyes went wide. He barely had time to voice his surprise. One moment he was following closely behind Kalliope, and the next, she had him pinning her to the wall, with her lips pressed upon his, and their bodies tight against each other. His first instinct yelled at him to pull away, but he could catch a glimpse of an approaching figure from the corner of his eye. There wasn’t time to think.

And so, he leaned into the kiss, bracing himself against the wall with an arm just above her head. He had his eyes closed, but still the fingers of his other hand managed to find their way to brush against her chin. For what reason, however, he didn’t know. It was just something he thought lovers did with one another, and really, he was hardly thinking by this point. All he could feel were the frenetic beats of his heart, pounding so hard in his chest that it felt as if it would shatter a few ribs.

The footsteps slowed, then stopped, just a few feet away. Kalliope’s heart pounded in her chest as she leaned into the kiss, pouring every ounce of her performance into the moment. Her mind screamed at her to stay calm, to sell the act, not like it was hard as a small part of her mind betrayed her and threatened to lose herself in the kiss, Her lips moved softly against his, coaxing a response, her fingers loosening just slightly as if they had forgotten their earlier urgency. She prayed to every god she didn’t believe in that this gamble would work.

Just an act. All just an act. Sjan-dehk repeated those words in his head like a meditative mantas. But he still found them difficult to believe. Not with the way her lips shifted ever-so-slightly against his, or with the way her hand only just gently rested upon his chest. He tried to tell himself that it was all just to make their performance really, really convincing, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder just how much of it was an act. Another part of him wondered why he would even wonder about that.

Without thinking, he slowly slid his hand on her chin up to her cheek, caressing it in a way that could only be described as lovingly. His thumb circled slowly and gently over her skin, and he felt his body relax, as if they weren’t in the midst of infiltrating an estate. It just felt so easy, so desirable, even, to just lose himself to the kiss.

A low cough broke the tension, and Kalliope’s eyes fluttered open just enough to catch a glimpse of a figure standing at the edge of her peripheral vision. She broke the kiss with a soft gasp, her cheeks flushing a believable shade of pink as she turned her head to look at the intruder.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her voice breathless and feigning embarrassment. “I-I didn’t realize anyone was—” She cut herself off, biting her lip and lowering her gaze, her hands still resting lightly against Sjan-dehk’s chest. Her performance was flawless, but inside, her stomach churned with nerves. This had better work.

Her heart raced as she realized it was the man who had shushed the group in the ballroom. His sharp, calculating eyes flicked between her and Sjan-dehk, narrowing slightly. He didn’t look amused and there was certainly suspicion in his eyes. She had one shot to sell this. For his part, Sjan-dehk did his best to appear like an embarrassed guard caught in the act. He averted his gaze – something easily-done with the help of his hat – and pretended to look busy straightening his clothes. The flush colouring his cheeks, however, was very much real.

“Oh dear,” she giggled lightly, staggering slightly to emphasize the bold, tipsy persona she had adopted earlier. Her hand slid from Sjan-dehk’s chest to her lips, as if trying to hide her faux embarrassment. “I must apologize,” she said, her words slightly slurred but still carrying a playful edge. “I didn’t think anyone would come wandering down here at this hour. My escort and I, well…” She trailed off, glancing up at Sjan-dehk with a sultry smile before looking back at the man, her cheeks flushing in what she hoped looked like tipsy, flirtatious guilt.

The man’s expression remained unreadable as he crossed his arms. “This is a private wing,” he said, his tone clipped and even. His gaze lingered on her a little too long for comfort before flicking over to Sjan-dehk. “Guests aren’t supposed to be here. Surely you were informed of that.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely right!” Kalliope chirped, waving her hand dismissively. “But you see, I simply couldn’t resist. These grand estates are so boring sometimes, don’t you think? All stuffy ballrooms and pretentious conversation. I needed some air, some adventure!” She giggled again, swaying just slightly as she took a small step forward, drawing his attention back to her. “And my dear escort here,” she gestured toward Sjan-dehk with a dramatic flourish, “was just helping me find a quiet spot. You know, to…escape the noise.”

Her emerald eyes met the man’s again, sparkling with feigned innocence and mischief. “But don’t worry, darling, we weren’t doing anything too scandalous. Just a little harmless fun.” She placed a hand on her chest, feigning mock sincerity. “I do hope you’ll forgive me. Surely you understand how dreadfully dull these parties can be and I simply couldn't resist getting my hands on my handsome escort.”

The man didn’t look convinced, but neither did he seem overly concerned. His eyes darted back to Sjan-dehk, lingering for a moment. “Is that so?” he asked, his tone sharp and probing. “And you, sir, what exactly were you doing wandering these halls with her?”

Her eyes flicked to Sjan-dehk, and for a brief moment, she silently willed him to follow her lead. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to intervene, to keep talking, but she knew it would only make things worse. That definitely would be viewed as suspicious. Sometimes speaking less was more. So instead, she settled for leaning lightly against him, her hand brushing his arm in what might appear as a tipsy, affectionate gesture. Inside, however, she was ready to spring into action if things went sideways.

There wasn’t much Sjan-dehk could think of to say. Nothing that wouldn’t make it sound too obvious that he was reaching for an excuse, at least. Experience told him to choose the easiest, most direct option, which was to simply incapacitate the man and make a rapid escape. But sense told him that he had to use finesse this time. There was still more in that room – and likely more in this estate as a whole – to investigate. A fight now would mean that they would have to leave all of that behind, and who knew when they would get a chance to return, if ever they could?

No, Sjan-dehk wasn’t about to let Kalliope’s efforts thus far go to waste.

“I apologise,” he said with a bow of his head. For the moment, he let go of the fact that he was Sada Kurau’s Captain, and instead imagined himself as a young midshipman. One that had only just been caught doing something very, very wrong, and now needed to think of a way to get his Commanding Officer’s attention off his back. “This, it is all my fault. It shames me to admit, but as my lady says, we were looking for a place for privacy. You see, the two of us, we…” He trailed off and looked away as if he were embarrassed by what he was about to say.

He made a show of drawing in a deep breath. “We are…Lovers, that is how you say it, yes? But it is not…It is not proper,” he continued, making sure to look at the man’s face every now and then. What Sjan-dehk was doing wasn’t something he had done often, but it was something that he knew could convince even the nosiest senior officer to stop prying any further if done correctly. The process was simple, really. All he had to do was just share so much information – the more useless, and the more unpleasant or impolite, the better – until the man decided he didn’t want to listen anymore.

Kalliope’s chest tightened, her heart thundering as Sjan-dehk’s words sank in. Lovers. The word sent a thrill down her spine, even though she knew it was just part of the ruse. Still, hearing it from his lips, watching his awkward earnestness as he sold the lie with such determination, made her stomach flutter in a way she couldn’t suppress. He didn’t even realize it, but the way he’d defended her—and the slight flush that crept across his cheeks—only made her feelings for him crash against her like waves against the shore, impossible to ignore and leaving her more disarmed than ever.

“And earlier, in the ballroom, we were quite…Improper,” Sjan-dehk went on, putting on a look of both innocence – as if what he was saying was simply a statement of fact – and embarrassment – as if he had committed a grave social error. “She had her hands on me, you see, and I…Well, I knew I had to take her away to…You know, take care of things. And then she said to find somewhere private, and I knew this part of the estate for today is…Is quiet and has nobody. I thought that this would be a good place for us to do what we want, so we came here.”

Sjan-dehk bowed his head again. “I apologise, really. We should have been more careful.”

The man’s sharp gaze lingered on Sjan-dehk for an uncomfortably long moment, his lips pressed into a thin line as if deliberating on whether or not to press further. His eyes shifted back to Kalliope, scrutinizing her with the kind of disdain reserved for someone who had clearly overstepped their station…or at least his perception of it.

“And your name, my lady?” he asked, his tone teetering on the edge of politeness, though it carried a distinct edge of condescension.

Kalliope straightened slightly, tilting her chin up just enough to feign an air of imperious grace. “Lady Alara Vayne,” she said, her voice dripping with aristocratic authority. “Of the House Vayne of Mariscia and Vayne Trading Company, if that wasn’t already clear.” If he dared to look into her, he would find there was a House Vayne on the continent of Mariscia and they were associated with a Vayne Trading Company. This persona worked so well for her because she had taken care to build it during several trips to the coastal country. She liked to have a solid disguise and Lady Vayne certainly fit the bill.

The man’s brows furrowed briefly as he turned the name over in his mind, but Kalliope’s delivery was flawless. He had no reason to doubt her, and after a tense pause, he gave a curt nod. “Well, Lady Vayne, I suggest you and your… escort find your way back to the ballroom before someone else stumbles upon you. Next time, try to keep your indiscretions to more appropriate venues.”

He stepped to the side, his dismissal clear, but then hesitated, glancing at Sjan-dehk again with a sneer that made Kalliope’s stomach churn. “Though, I must say, I’d have expected better taste from a lady of your standing. Perhaps next time, choose a companion who doesn’t look like he just stepped off the deck of some filthy barbaric merchant ship.”

Sjan-dehk bristled at that remark. It took every last scrap of his restraint to hold him back from telling the man that it was his ‘filthy barbaric merchant ship’ that was the cause of all his woes. The pointed words had even formed on Sjan-dehk’s tongue, but he forced them back down. There wasn’t a need for him to say anything, anyway. Sada Kurau would certainly pay the man’s remark back in full, in the form of ships and his fellows sent to the abyss.

Kalliope’s blood boiled, her hands twitching as she fought the urge to reach for her concealed dagger. But instead, she smiled, a tight, saccharine expression that was somehow more cutting than any blade. “Oh, I assure you, good sir,” she said, her voice as sweet as poisoned honey, “the only thing filthy about my escort is how thoroughly he’s made me forget all those dreary, stuffy nobles. If only they had half his charm.” Her gaze locked with his, a silent challenge in her emerald eyes. “But I’ll take your suggestion under advisement. Thank you ever so much for your concern.”

Without waiting for his reaction, she grabbed Sjan-dehk’s arm and began walking, her steps light but purposeful, though her nails dug into his sleeve just enough to betray her lingering irritation. As soon as they turned the corner and were out of earshot, she let out a sharp breath. “That pompous little—” She bit the rest of the sentence off, shaking her head as if to compose herself. “Let’s just get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Care to spend some time somewhere away from insufferable nobles that's a bit more quiet and we could maybe read a certain letter?” She asked him as she patted the spot she'd hidden the coded letter she found.

To say that Sjan-dehk was caught off guard by Kalliope’s reaction to the man’s words would be quite the understatement. Although it was true that the man had been incredibly rude, the bulk of his vitriol had been aimed towards Sjan-dehk. And while Sjan-dehk would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel vexed by the treatment, he knew that it was all just part-and-parcel of putting on an act. Besides, he had responded in the way he had with the intention of aggravating the man, and surely Kalliope had to have caught onto that.

So why had she gotten so upset?

Sjan-dehk found no answer to that question, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to. Or if there was even a need to. It felt nice – heartening, even – to have her speak up for him, and after spending so many years and so much effort defending others, it was strangely comforting to be himself defended by someone else. That alone was more than enough for him.

And so, he simply followed behind Kalliope in silence as she practically dragged him away. Her nails, sharp and neatly filed, felt as if they were just moments away from cutting through his sleeve when they rounded a corner. “Of course,” Sjan-dehk replied to her question. The charms and quirks of high society had turned stale, and there weren’t many of those to begin with, in any case. “I found a false bottom in one of the closets. Shame we couldn’t have a look inside, but I guess that’s just for another adventure in future, eh?”

Kalliope slowed her pace slightly, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she glanced at Sjan-dehk. “Another adventure in the future, huh? Is that your way of saying you plan on sticking around and indulging in more of my harebrained schemes? Because I’ll admit,” she leaned in just slightly, her voice dipping lower with a wickedly teasing lilt, “That’s just my type of foreplay. I’ve always found a man who’s ready for danger and mischief…quite irresistible.”

She let her words hang in the air, her smirk growing as she began to descend the steps with deliberate, unhurried grace. Her fingers brushed the banister, her pace measured as if savoring the moment. She cast a sidelong glance at Sjan-dehk, her eyes glinting with mischief. So surprised was Sjan-dehk by her choice of words that he choked on air. Clearing his throat, he slowly met her gaze, his cheeks tinted by a flush, and looking as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears.

“So,” she began, her tone deceptively innocent, “shall we go somewhere that’s quiet and private?” She paused mid-step, turning slightly to look at him, the question lingering in the air as her gaze held his. Her lips parted ever so slightly, as if to say something more, but she let the silence stretch, teasing him with the unspoken.

Sjan-dehk’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung agape. Every thought in his mind came to an abrupt, sudden halt. Was she really suggesting what he thought she was? Surely not – they had only known each other for roughly a week. It was too soon. But perhaps such affairs worked differently here, and she was indeed asking him for a dalliance? How should he respond? And why did a part of him – as small as it was – hope that she was indeed propositioning him?

He swallowed and tried to look over her shoulder; at the bannisters; at the ceiling, and even at all the fixtures lining the walls. Anywhere but her mischievous face and her lips.

Then, with a wicked little smile, she added, “To look at this letter, of course.” Her voice was sweet, but her grin made it abundantly clear that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. She continued her descent, her footsteps soft but purposeful, tossing him a playful look over her shoulder. “Unless you have…other suggestions?”

At that, Sjan-dehk released a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. “You really are a tease, you know that?” He said with a chuckle. Some of it was out of amusement, but part of it was targeted at himself. What a fool he had been acting. The rush of excitement must have addled his senses, for him to have jumped to such a conclusion. “Can’t say I’ve any suggestions. I’d suggest going back to Sada Kurau, but…”

He swept a hand over himself. “I didn’t exactly make it difficult for anyone to guess that she’s where I came from,” he concluded. And also, his crew had worked terribly hard over the past couple of days and nights. The last thing Sjan-dehk wanted was to tire them out even more by leading unnecessary trouble to the ship. Sada Kurau deserved the rest, too. For tonight, he would be on his own. “But I’m sure you know one or two hiding spots where we can look over a letter, right?”

Kalliope’s laughter bubbled up, light and genuine, as she caught the playful edge in his voice. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she shot him a teasing grin as she continued down the stairs with a languid, almost cat-like grace.

“I can't help but enjoy making you squirm a little.” She mused, her voice tinged with wicked delight as she turned the corner. Her smile lingered for a moment before she began to ponder, her eyes scanning the surroundings briefly as she considered her options. Her mind wandered for a moment, sifting through various possibilities, before her eyes lit up with the perfect idea.

“Well,” she began, drawing out the word as she looked back at him, “I have just the place. An inn, not too far from here. I've built quite the relationship with them over the years, and they have a little suite they keep just for me. Quiet. Private. Perfect for... confidential matters.”

She gave him another sly, yet playful look. “No prying eyes, no interruptions,” she added, her voice lowering just slightly with a hint of something more dangerous beneath the flirtation. "You might just like it there."

Without waiting for a response, she started heading towards the exit of the estate, more determined now. “Come along, then,” she called back, her smile mischievous. “Let’s take a look at this letter in the comfort of my little hideaway. No distractions, I promise…unless, of course, you’d like a distraction.”

Sjan-dehk chuckled with a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t want either of us to be distracted when we’re going through something so…Well, something that might be important,” he replied with a small grin. Then, with a glance at her dress and a glint in his eyes, he added in a playful tone, “Besides, I’d think that you’re plenty enough of a distraction, Kali. I’m afraid you might’ve to do all the reading.”

For him, and by his standards, those words were daring. Overly-so, even. But surely, if she was – as she put it – going to be a tease and make him squirm, then it was only fair for him to give her a touch of that as well, in return. It wasn’t as if it was that hard for him to say such words. With Kalliope, they flowed from his lips as naturally as a river meandering through a floodplain. It was strange, he had to admit, but it also felt strangely good. As if this was a fun game between the two of them.

Kalliope stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes snapping to Sjan-dehk with an expression that could only be described as mock shock. For a moment, she simply stared at him, her lips parted in exaggerated disbelief, before a slow, mischievous grin spread across her face.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement, “Look who’s learning how to tease me back. I’m proud of you, Sjan-dehk. Might even make me swoon a little.”

She leaned closer, her emerald eyes glinting with wicked delight. “Though if it’s the dress that’s the distraction…” Her voice softened to a conspiratorial whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, “I could always take it off.”

Once again, Sjan-dehk was struck dumb by her words. His face flushed a deep scarlet, and it was all he could do to avert his gaze. The image left in his head by Kalliope’s suggestion made it difficult for him to look at her. “That–” he began, immediately interrupting himself by coughing into his fist. “That won’t…Well, I-I don’t think that would be necessary, but thank you for offering.”

She lingered for a heartbeat, just long enough for the suggestion to settle in the air between them, before pulling away with a laugh. Her steps picked up again as she linked her arm with his again and led the way to their destination.

Neither of them noticed the faint movement in the shadows, where a pair of cold, watchful eyes followed their every step. The figure lingered in the dark corner of the estate, obscured by the dim light of the hallway, before vanishing back into the depths of the mansion as quietly as a breath on the wind.
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Hidden 2 days ago Post by FunnyGuy
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Time: Night of Sola 26th
Location: Summoning Chamber
Attire: None.
Interaction:
Mention:


Alexander attempted to peer through the small billows of smoke that masked the being he had summoned as it continued to writhe.

“Ughhhhhh!” Its howl held a feminine tone but Alexander knew better than to associate it with any semblance of a human.

“Greetings. I am your summoner. I am Alexander Deacon if the-”

“Hush!” The voice boomed through the chamber. Lianna gripped the handles of her wheelchair while Alexander raised an eyebrow. “I need a moment, Alexander Deacon….” She spat out his name distastefully. “Ahhhh it has been long… Sooo long. Oooh it feels so good to find myself in this world once more.” She sounded as if she was just stirring from a long rest.

“And you're very welcome.” Alexander commented with a smile as he stood from the floor.

“Bold of you to assume I should thank you. All you did was open a door and I was simply the first to step through it. You called for a familiar, and I answered… You're welcome, Alexander Deacon.”

“Then I guess I have to give my thanks. It would roll off the tongue much easier if I knew your name, familiar.” Alexander took a step closer to the circle, still unable to make her form through the smoke. His curiosity was getting the better of him, fascinated by this twisted use of magic.

“My name? Hmmmm…. Ere- Hmm no. Call me Eri. Short and sweet, easy to say, hm?”

“Eri. It would be-”

“Love it! You say it so well, Alexander Deacon. Say it once more.”

“Eri, it would be better if I knew your real name.” Alexander was beginning to feel frustrated and contemplated banishing the familiar to try the summoning again.

“You will! Of course! In time, Alexander Deacon. In time. We've only just met… These candles and your presentation have put me in such a mood to get to know you but giving everything to the first man that calls is not something I do, especially when he’s bound by such a nasty curse. Nasty, nasty, nasty Alexander Deacon.” She chuckled darkly.

“Be patient, take it slow, and I will reward you in full. For now, let us negotiate the terms of our partnership, my precious summoner. What services do you desire, Alexander Deacon?”

“Firstly,” Alexander began

END



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Hidden 2 days ago Post by Tae
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Tae

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Kalliope & Sjan-dehk


Date: Sola 26th
Time: Evening
Location: Small little inn

Part 3





By the time they arrived at the inn, the city’s chaos had given way to the stillness of the night. The inn itself was tucked down a quiet side street, its warm, golden light spilling onto the cobblestone road like a beacon of comfort. The carved wooden sign above the door depicted a coiled dragon resting atop a hoard of coins, its craftsmanship a testament to the inn’s reputation for blending charm and luxury.

Sjan-dehk glanced at the sign, then at the building’s facade. He let out a low whistle. “Fancy look for a quiet place,” he remarked.

Kalliope pushed open the door with familiar ease, stepping into the cozy common area where the scent of wood smoke and spiced tea filled the air. A few patrons lingered at the tables, chatting quietly or nursing drinks, but the room was far from crowded. Behind the polished counter stood a plump, middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a sharp mind. She glanced up as Kalliope approached, her expression lighting up in recognition. Her gaze briefly flicked to the necklace Kalliope war, a silent indicator of who she was that night.

“Well, if it isn’t Lady Vayne,” the innkeeper said warmly, “Shall I prepare your usual suite, my lady?”

Kalliope’s lips curved into a gracious smile. “Yes, please, Elyna. And if it’s not too much trouble, could you have some tea and perhaps something light to eat brought up? My companion and I have had quite the evening.”

“Of course, my lady,” Elyna replied with a slight bow of her head. Her sharp gaze darted to Sjan-dehk, but she said nothing more. Instead, she turned and gestured to one of the serving staff, giving quiet instructions before returning to the counter. “It’ll be ready shortly.”

Kalliope thanked her with a small nod, then motioned for Sjan-dehk to follow as she led the way up the staircase to the second floor. The corridor was lined with ornately carved doors, each marked with intricate plaques indicating the suite numbers. Kalliope stopped at the third door on the left, producing a key from the folds of her gown and unlocking the door with a smooth motion.

The suite inside was the epitome of understated elegance. A plush rug in rich shades of crimson and gold stretched across the floor, its patterns intricate and mesmerizing. A fireplace crackled softly in the corner, the golden light casting a warm glow over the room. To the right, a small sitting area boasted a pair of high-backed chairs flanking a low table, perfect for quiet conversation or reviewing documents.

The bed dominated the far end of the room, its canopy draped in sheer, gauzy fabric that shimmered faintly in the firelight. A small sideboard held a collection of decanters and glasses, while a writing desk was tucked neatly into the corner, complete with an assortment of ink and quills.

Sjan-dehk looked at the room with impressed eyes as he carefully stepped inside, as if it wasn’t an inn’s room that he was stepping into, but the stately chamber of a mansion. But perhaps ‘stately’ was the wrong word to use – this room didn’t feel stuffy, or overly-elaborate for the sake of it. Everything seemed to have a reason for why they were the way they were. The decorations were certainly fine and intricate, but they accented the room nicely, rather than dominating it. He could feel a gentle air of cosiness from the furnishings, rather than a desire to impress.

Kalliope stepped inside before glancing over her shoulder at Sjan-dehk, her smirk returning. “Well? What do you think? Cozy enough for our letter-reading adventure?” Her tone carried just enough playful emphasis on the phrase to keep him guessing about whether or not she truly meant to behave as she pulled the letter out of her bodice and waved it before him. As they settled in, someone brought the tea she requested and an assortment of pastries before silently leaving.

Thank the Mother for the interruption, for Sjan-dehk’s mind had wandered to somewhere that wasn’t as savoury as he liked at Kalliope’s words – or her tone, to be accurate – and her actions. His eyes, which had been drawn to her bosom by her hand, quickly snapped away to instead look towards the person with their drinks and food. “Thank you,” he said with a nod, doing his utmost best to keep his voice and tone as calm, level, and devoid of his shame as possible.

That brief distraction returned his attention to the task at hand, but still Sjan-dehk was convinced that there was something dreadfully wrong with him today. He wasn’t usually like this, so easily distracted by the words and ways of a woman. Or just easily distracted in general.

He shook his head slightly, then looked at the tray. “Well, we’ve food and drinks. I think it’s as good a time as any for us to have a look at the letter.”

Kalliope laid the letter carefully on the table, smoothing out the edges with a practiced hand. She then walked over to the writing desk and grabbed a blank sheet of paper as well as a quill and ink, just in case she needed to write anything down to help decode this. She then grabbed a cup of tea and took a delicate sip, savoring the warmth and calming effects before she set it down. The tea seemed extra delightful tonight.

She sat down with a fluid motion, her gaze drifting back to the letter. After a long moment of quiet examination, she tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in subtle curiosity.

“So,” she said, her voice low and thoughtful as she looked at Sjan-dehk, “other than the random darker spots and slanted letters, does anything about this letter stand out to you?”

With furrowed brows, Sjan-dehk examined the letter. His command of Caesonian had improved over his stay thus far in Sorian, but reading was still something with which he found trouble. To be honest, had Kalliope not pointed out the slanted letters, he wouldn’t have thought them to be suspicious. And still, despite his best efforts to scrutinise them in every which way possible, he couldn’t figure out just why she had pointed them out. They just looked like someone was writing in a rush.

“Can’t say anything does,” Sjan-dehk admitted in a half-grumble. “Reading your language…Well, the characters, at least, isn’t something I’m too good at. It looks like a normal letter to me.” Then, his lips pulled into a grin and he looked at her. “But I’m guessing you caught something?”

She took another sip of tea before also grabbing a small pastry and nibbling on it. “Also, this tea seems to be exceptionally good tonight. I wonder what kind they used tonight because it feels special.”

“Is it?” Sjan-dehk gingerly picked up one of the cups and carefully sipped from it. He allowed the tea to linger on his tongue for a while before swallowing. Then, he sipped again. He emptied almost half of the cup before it occurred to him that, foreign as he was to local teas, he probably wouldn’t know if there was something about this particular tea’s taste. Embarrassed, he placed the cup back onto the tray and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“It’s…A strong tea,” he remarked, sounding more awkward than he would have hoped. “But it’s good, I think. Can’t say I can tell what it tastes of, though.” The fruity, earthy flavour lingered on his tongue, but as a welcome guest rather than one that had outstayed their welcome.

Kalliope took another sip of her tea, savoring the taste with a thoughtful expression. “It’s… fruity,” she mused, tilting her head slightly. “Maybe a little floral too? It’s different. Not something I recognize, though. A new blend, maybe? I'll have to ask Elyna later.” She glanced at the cup again, swirling the tea absently before chuckling softly. “Sorry, I’m getting sidetracked. Back to the matter at hand.”

She set the tea down and leaned over the table, her focus shifting back to the letter. With a steady hand, she began jotting down the darker and slanted letters onto the blank sheet of paper, speaking aloud as she worked. “Here’s an odd one… and another… and this one, too.” Her quill scratched against the page as she formed the collection of seemingly random letters.

When she was finished, she held up the paper, her brows furrowed in frustration. “It doesn’t make any sense. Just a jumble of letters. Whoever wrote this either didn’t want it deciphered or they’ve got a very strange way of hiding their message.” Letting out a soft sigh, Kalliope leaned back in her chair, resting her head against the backrest. “Or maybe I was wrong and it really isn't anything at all.”

As she sat there, the warmth of the room and the effects of the tea began to creep through her in ways she didn’t immediately notice. The edges of her usual sharp wit seemed to blur ever so slightly, and a strange sense of contentment washed over her, one that she rarely let herself indulge in. Her eyes wandered over to Sjan-dehk, and for a moment, a warm, lazy smile spread across her lips. “You know,” she began, her voice softer than before, “I was thinking about earlier. When I kissed you.” She tilted her head slightly, her emerald eyes glinting in the flickering firelight. “I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

Sjan-dehk met her gaze, and was once again struck dumb. He had hoped that, after a night of being teased by her in such a fashion, such words would slide off his mind as easily as water dripping off a sheet of sailcloth. That was evidently wishful thinking; Kalliope’s words, coupled with the relaxed look about her face, brought Sjan-dehk’s thoughts to a crashing halt, and made his heart skip a couple of beats. Once again, he could himself wondering whether she was serious. Once again, he wondered just why that mattered to him.

With nothing to say, and no words coming to his mind anytime soon, he decided to occupy his mouth with other things before he blurted out something thoughtless. He reached for his cup and emptied it in one long gulp.

The words hung in the air for a moment, her tone sincere and unguarded. Kalliope reached for her tea again, her fingers brushing over the cup as she realized what she had just said. Her eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush began to creep across her cheeks. Quickly, she cleared her throat and looked away, pretending to focus on the scattered papers in front of her.

“Ahem. I mean, uh… That was supposed to stay in my head,” she mumbled, her voice quick and flustered. She dipped her quill into the ink again, keeping her eyes firmly on the parchment as if willing it to distract her from her own words. “Let’s… just focus on the letter again, shall we?” The slight tremble in her hands betrayed her composure as she scribbled aimlessly, trying to hide the deep flush spreading across her face.

“Yes,” Sjan-dehk said quickly, the heat still in his cheeks. “Let’s focus.”

Focus, as it turned out, was the one thing that refused to come to him. He watched Kalliope scribble with great interest, following every stroke of her quill and taking in every letter. Even so, it took him a couple of minutes before he realised that she wasn’t writing anything at all, but simply scrawling with neither aim nor purpose. That was indeed a curious thing, he knew. And yet he didn’t feel any need to ask her anything. Not what she was doing, and not whether she was alright. All Sjan-dehk felt was a strange, but comforting sense of calm.

He turned his head. For what reason, he neither knew nor cared. All he knew was that now he could easily catch sight of Kalliope’s strikingly beautiful eyes, bright and glimmering as they were. Had she always looked this attractive? Had he simply never noticed? Or was this yet another consequence of their exciting little adventure in the estate earlier? He didn’t dwell on those questions. He didn’t care much for them, anyway. What importance could they have, when he was here, in this room, and right next to a lady so, very alluring?

“I…” He began. Whatever carelessness he felt wasn’t reflected in his voice, but still he pressed on, a slight waver in his words. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. “I…I mean, it was nice. The kiss. I liked it as well and, well, I wouldn’t mind if you…If you did what you want.” His words died to a quiet and indistinct murmur towards the end, but amidst the peacefulness of the room, he may as well have shouted them.

Kalliope froze at Sjan-dehk's words, her quill stilling on the parchment mid-scribble. Her emerald eyes locked onto his, wide with surprise and disbelief. For a moment, it seemed as if the world had stilled, the only sound in the room being the faint crackle of the fire. Then, almost imperceptibly, her lips curved into a soft, slightly giddy smile.

A light giggle escaped her, uncharacteristic and far too carefree for her normal flirtations and teasing. She set the quill down, standing with an almost languid grace and crossing the short distance between them. The haze of something in the tea, the warmth now coursing through her veins, seemed to melt away her restraint, leaving her feeling bold, almost reckless.

Leaning down, she placed her hands on either side of Sjan-dehk’s chair, bringing her face mere inches from his. Her eyes, bright with something that bordered on mischief and raw honesty, searched his as her breath brushed lightly against his lips. “I dare you to kiss me,” she murmured, her voice low and filled with a teasing, honeyed edge. “But I’ll warn you…”

Sjan-dehk gulped, but it was more of a reflexive action than anything else. Contentment, calm, and a hint of anticipation were all that were on his face as he looked up at her, his lips pulled into a relaxed, lazy smile. What other reaction could there be, to words as daring and titillating as those?

Her gaze dropped to his lips, lingering there for a heartbeat before flicking back up to his eyes. “If you do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop there.” A quiet laugh tumbled out of her, soft and almost self-deprecating. “And that’s because… I think I’m falling for you, Sjan-dehk. Completely.”

She tilted her head slightly, her voice growing quieter but no less sincere as she let the confession tumble out of her. “I tried to tell myself I wasn’t allowed to. That it wasn’t smart, or right, or…” She trailed off, her smile fading just slightly as the weight of her admission settled over her. But then, the boldness surged again, her lips quirking into a faint smirk as she leaned even closer. “But here we are. Your move, Captain.”

“Falling?” Sjan-dehk echoed with a teasing grin. He tilted his head the other way and pushed himself upright. So close were their faces that he could almost count the strands of her lashes, that he could see the faint, warm shine highlighting her lips. For a brief moment, his senses seemed to return, and his smile faltered. His breath caught in his throat. Uncertainty crept into his dark irises. Every instinct told him to pull away while he still could.

But as quickly as it had come, that moment left. What had he even been worried about? Nothing that mattered all that much, he assumed. The grin returned to his face, and he raised his hand, bringing it to Kalliope’s face. His palm rested gently against her cheek, his thumb gliding along the ridges of her cheekbone. He had done the exact same thing earlier, in the estate, but back then it had been just a thoughtless reaction. An act, and nothing more. Now, however, it was more than that. He knew what he was doing. He wanted to touch her.

Her skin tingling beneath his touch and almost instinctively, she leaned into it, her eyes fluttering closed for a fleeting moment as she savored the gentle, deliberate motion of his thumb against her cheekbone. The gesture was so simple, yet it unraveled something deep within her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and impossibly safe all at once. When her gaze found his again, her expression softened, a quiet, unspoken yearning reflected in the depths of her emerald eyes.

“Falling?” He repeated, then nodded. Whatever he was going to do – whatever he was doing right at this very moment, in fact – wasn’t going to be the wise, or right, or even sensible thing to do. Deep in his heart, he knew that. And yet, he couldn’t say that he was bothered much by it. He knew what he wanted, and that was enough for him. “Then I suppose I’ve to catch you.”

His words came out in a soft murmur, each syllable bringing his face closer and closer to hers, until a hair’s breadth was all that separated them. He gazed into her eyes, his mischievous grin softened to a warm, gentle smile. “Here we are,” he whispered and winked.

He leaned in, and pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss stole Kalliope's breath before she even realized she had given it away. The warmth of his lips against hers sent a jolt down her spine, igniting a fire in her veins that burned through every last shred of caution she might have clung to. It wasn’t like the brief kiss they had shared earlier, the one she had claimed was a distraction. No, this was deliberate, purposeful, and brimming with the kind of emotion she had spent so long convincing herself she couldn’t afford to feel.

Her thoughts spun in dizzying circles, fragmented and incoherent. This is happening. This is real. She couldn’t deny the truth of it, the way his touch and closeness made her heart race and her knees feel as if they would give out at any moment. And then they did.

Her knees buckled beneath her, and before she could stop herself, she sank down, finding herself perched on Sjan-dehk’s lap. She let out a soft, almost breathless laugh against his lips, her cheeks flushed and her pulse racing. “Guess I really am falling,” she murmured without really breaking the kiss, though the words barely registered even to herself.

Sjan-dehk chuckled breathily, his eyes half-lidded and his lips pulled into a silly smile as he looked at her. At the same time, he slipped an arm around the small of her back to keep her in place. “You can fall as much as you want,” he said, the words coming out as hushed, heated breaths. With a tug that was equal parts gentle and firm, he pulled her snugly onto his lap. “You’ll be alright. I have you.”

Her hands, almost of their own accord, moved to his chest. They splayed out over the broad expanse of muscle, feeling the strength beneath his tunic as her fingers traced tentative, roaming paths. His heartbeat thudded beneath her palm, strong and steady, and something about that simple rhythm sent a warm ache of longing through her.

A soft, almost helpless sound escaped her throat—half sigh, half moan—as she pressed herself closer. One hand curled into the fabric of his tunic as if she were anchoring herself to him, while the other slid upward, brushing over his shoulder and coming to rest at the base of his neck. Sjan-dehk replied with a soft hum reverberating in his throat. The closer she pressed herself to him, the tighter he wrapped his arm around her, until their bodies were almost flush against one another.

His scent, sea salt and something earthy, unmistakably him, filled her senses, and it made her dizzy in the best way. Her lips moved against his, hesitant at first but quickly growing more confident, pouring into the kiss every ounce of unspoken feeling she’d kept bottled up for so long. She couldn’t hold back now, couldn’t stop the way her body gravitated toward his as if pulled by some magnetic force.

As her lips moved, so too did his. Wherever they went, his was sure to find them. He leaned his back off the chair, trying to press himself ever-so-closer against her, to feel more of her warmth, to fill his nose with more of her flowery scent, to simply know that this was real. His hand travelled across her back until its fingers could curl around her slender waist, and his arm could pin her to him. It was like his body didn’t want to let her go, now that he had her, even as his mind whispered that this wasn’t a smart thing to do.

The whispers kept swirling in his mind, but could never truly get him to listen. The raw desire burning within him drowned out their warnings. All he could think about, all he could care about, was Kalliope and how she – every part of her – felt against him.

Her fingers at his neck curled slightly, nails grazing his skin in a way that was both tender and daring. She broke the kiss for the briefest of moments, her forehead resting against his as she caught her breath. Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto his with a mix of wonder and disbelief. “Sjan-dehk…” she whispered, her voice breathy and unsteady. A giddy smile played at her lips as she leaned back in, unable to resist pressing another kiss to his mouth, softer this time but no less charged.

Something at the back of her mind screamed that she should stop, pull back, regain her composure. But the warmth of his body, the steadiness of his hands, the way his presence seemed to consume her…it was all too much, too intoxicating. For once, she didn’t care about what was right or wise. She didn’t care about the consequences. All that mattered in this moment was him.

When she did finally pull away, realizing she needed air, she didn’t move far, her forehead resting lightly against his as she struggled to catch her breath. Her emerald eyes fluttered open, locking onto his with a vulnerability that she couldn’t hide. “Sjan-dehk,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, the sound trembling with emotion. Her hand, still resting on his chest, tightened its hold slightly as if to anchor herself. “I think… I think you just made me fall all the way.”

The words spilled out before she could stop them, but for once, she didn’t care. There was no teasing now, no coy smiles or witty quips to hide behind. Just her, bare and open, her heart laid bare in a way that both thrilled and terrified her. “And I don’t know what to do with it,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing deeply as her gaze flickered to his lips again, already longing for the next kiss.

Sjan-dehk wasn’t quite sure what to do, either. He wasn’t a stranger to all they had done so far – the many post-battle victory celebrations he had been a part of made sure of that – but going any further than heated kisses and daring touches was wholly unknown to him. He may as well be asked to sail uncharted waters, towards uncharted waters.

And yet, as he gazed into Kalliope’s eyes, and saw the redness in her cheeks, the sincerity etched in her features, and that slight, but unmistakable, tinge of nervousness, that uncertainty didn’t matter all that much, anymore. What did it matter? Before each other, they had laid their needs and wants and desires bare. And it was clear that both of them craved the same thing. He brushed his hand against her cheek, fingers pushing aside the fiery tresses tickling her face. “I don’t know, either,” he said in a soft voice. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know if all this, all that I’m doing, is right. Or smart. Or if it even makes any sense.”

With one hand, he caressed his cheek. With the other, he held her by her waist. “But what I do know is that doing all this makes me feel…Content.” Slowly and gently, he guided her face closer, even as he leaned forward. “Mother help me, being with you like this makes me feel…Light. Lighter than I’ve felt in a damn long time.”

Their lips were now almost brushing against each other. He stopped, eyes half-lidded. “I don’t know a damn thing about what’s going on, Kali,” he admitted in a hushed voice. “But somehow, I can’t say that it bothers me at all, because right now I hear you calling to me just like the sea.” He grinned, but it wasn’t a mischievous one. It didn’t speak of playfulness, but of assurance. “And not even the damn Abyss can stop me from answering. So fall if you’re going to fall. I’ll be falling with you.”

He closed the scant distance between them, and captured her lips in another kiss. This time, he took the lead. With his uncertainties and hesitations discarded, he pulled her closer to him, sitting her fully on his lap. He placed both his hands on her waist, resting them just above her hips.

As his lips met hers, a wildfire seemed to ignite within her. It was all consuming. His hands on her waist steadied her, and yet, she still felt as though she was falling, her entire world narrowing to the feel of his lips and the strength of his touch. Her own hands found their way back to his chest, her fingers fanning out against the warm fabric of his tunic as if she were grounding herself to him.

But grounding herself wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Needed more. Her hands roamed upward, brushing over his broad shoulders before tangling in his hair. The soft strands were a contrast to the callouses of her fingers, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he felt beneath her touch, the way he responded to her, and the way her body seemed to hum with life in a way it never had before.

The kiss deepened, and she let herself get lost in it, the lines between where he ended and she began blurring with every passing second. She couldn’t hold back the soft, needy sound that escaped her throat, muffled against his lips but no less desperate. She pressed herself closer to him, needing to be closer to him. To feel his warmth envelope her completely.

She broke the kiss, her breaths coming fast and uneven as her lips lingered near his. Her emerald eyes glimmered with mischief and raw emotion as they locked onto his, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. That same grin, the one that usually preceded a sharp quip or teasing remark, was softer now, laced with affection and desire.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice low and playful, “there is a bed in this room.” Her fingers remained tangled in his hair, tugging gently as her grin widened, teasing and full of unspoken invitation. “Unless, of course, you’re enjoying the chair that much.”

Sjan-dehk glanced at the bed. “So there is,” he remarked, looking back at her with a grin. “This chair has its charms, but it’s not doing my back any favours.” He waggled his brows. “Not with what we’re doing with it.”

Her words hung in the air, daring him, tempting him, yet leaving him with the choice. She let out a quiet laugh, her cheeks flushed and her pulse still racing, unable to fully hide the giddiness or the growing fire inside her. And though her grin stayed playful, her eyes betrayed how much this moment meant to her…how much he meant to her. How much she wanted him. Needed him.

Her laugh was like the gentle lapping of waves to his ears. Calming, pleasant, beautiful. He took time to return her grin, and to hold her gaze for a moment. The challenge in her expression was clear, as was her desire. “Well,” Sjan-dehk began, tightening his hold on her. “Excuse me, then.”

In one swift move, he stood up, at the same time scooping Kalliope into his arms. He looked down at her as he adjusted his grip to hold her tightly and securely against his chest. “Let’s go,” he whispered with mischief in his words and anticipation on his face. He crossed the room towards the bed in only a couple of strides. And yet, his heart thumped as if he were running a mile. It announced his desire, his want like an overly-eager herald.

She let out a soft, surprised laugh as he lifted her effortlessly, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck to steady herself. She gazed up at him, her emerald eyes shimmering with affection and playful delight, her fingers curling slightly against the back of his neck. She pressed herself closer to him, relishing the steady strength of his hold, as she nuzzled into his neck, placing soft kisses there.

Sjan-dehk had to resist the urge to rush, to simply toss her onto the bed and continue with things. He took the time to gently lay her onto the soft mattress before standing back up to hastily unbuckle his sword-and-pistol belt, and remove any other unnecessary equipment. They fell to the floor, clattering noisily against varnished wood and resting in messy heaps. None of that mattered to Sjan-dehk – his attention was now entirely focused on Kalliope. A sudden flash of awkwardness came over him, and with it came hesitation. But as with before, neither of those feelings lasted for long.

He climbed onto the bed, crawling over her and gazing down into those bright, verdant eyes. He had lost count as to how many times he had done just that, but that didn’t matter. It still felt as if he were looking into them for the first time. He held himself up with a hand pressing into the mattress right by her head. “So,” he said and lowered himself slightly. “Where do you suppose this is going to go?”

Her fingertips traced the line of his jaw, then slid gently along his cheek, her touch light but sure. She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath her touch, the steady rhythm of his breath, and it made her heart beat all the more wildly. With a soft shift beneath him, she lifted one leg, sliding it over his side until it brushed against his waist. The motion was slow, deliberate, a silent invitation. Her other hand, still resting against his face, slid down to the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair as she gently tugged him closer.

Her voice, when it came, was barely more than a breath, hushed with raw emotion. “I want you, Sjan-dehk,” she murmured, her lips almost brushing against his. “I need you. I don’t want to stop here. I want this to go as far as you’ll let it. As far as we can go.”

Sjan-dehk paused for a moment. How far did he want to go? Where did he even intend to go? There was something wrong with this entire situation, a small, quiet part of his mind knew. It wasn’t like him to do anything without knowing his heading or his course. And yet, he couldn’t care less about that. It was too late now, he thought. There wasn’t any way for him to go, but forward.

She let her hand drift down, her fingers tracing over his chest teasingly. She gazed into his eyes, her own vulnerable and open, as if every layer of defense she had built up over time was melting away in the heat of this moment. She recognized there was a fuzziness to her thoughts, something that should have given her pause, but she was too far gone in her desire to care.

“Pretty sure I did warn you that if you kissed me I wouldn't want to stop there.” She teased him with a smirk as she pressed her leg a little closer against him, feeling the tension and the heat build between them. There was no room for hesitation now, no fear or doubt. Just her, her need, and the way she was fully, entirely giving herself over to him. “Don’t hold back.” She whispered, her voice almost a plea.

“That you did,” Sjan-dehk said with a quiet chuckle. He placed his hand over hers, pressing it against his chest, and leaned in closer. A pleased, content sound rumbled in his throat as he brushed his lips over hers in a brief, fleeting kiss. Then, he grinned, his other hand slowly, languidly, trailing down the front of her dress. He felt the soft fabric beneath his fingertips, the stiffness of the bodice against his palms, and the tantalising dips and curves of her body.

Instead of taking her clothes off, however, he brought his hand to the sash around his waist. With the swift and practiced hands of an experienced sailor, he undid the knot, pulled it off, and scrunched it into a ball before tossing it aside. A few more deft movements of his fingers loosened the strings that held his tunics in place. His clothes now draped from his frame like sails from a mast. “I don’t want to ruin your dress,” he said even as he teased the laces on Kalliope’s bodice. “So you might have to do this yourself, if you don’t mind.”

Kalliope’s lips curved into a sly, playful grin, her eyes flickering with mischief as she watched him, arching ever so slightly into his touch. “Afraid you’ll get tangled up, sailor?” she teased, her voice low and velvety as her gaze dropped briefly to the loosened fabric of his tunic. “You’ve managed knots in the middle of a storm, haven’t you?”

Her hands trailed down his chest, fingers tracing the edges of the fabric that hung from him, feeling the heat of his skin beneath before her hands slid to her bodice. She took her time as she began to untie the laces he had teased, her fingers moving with a languid, deliberate grace. She tugged one lace loose, then another, her lips parting as her breathing deepened. She leaned in as she loosened the last of it, her lips grazing his ear as she whispered, “But since you asked so nicely…”

Her bodice fell away, revealing more of her sun-kissed skin, and she reclined back onto the bed, her smirk softening into something more open and vulnerable. Her emerald eyes locked onto his, holding him captive with a look that said she trusted him, wanted him, needed him. “No more holding back, Sjan-dehk,” she murmured, her voice softer now, threaded with affection and desire. “I’m yours.”
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Hidden 1 day ago 1 day ago Post by Lava Alckon
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Lava Alckon

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Farim

Location: Edin Theater
Time: Morning of the 28th
Mentions:

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


The past few days had been something of a trial for the young trade prince. The stress of his father’s expectations and the deal they struck - the recent involvement with Count Ryn, and not to mention the way Anastasia had flung his emotions into a passionate yet purposeful maelstrom. Now he was here to perform in front of the very king and queen he was meant to impress - to convince that he should have their daughters hand in marriage. Not in the very moment, mind you. But an impression made here would last beyond the reaches of the courtroom.

A stagehand came to Farim’s side and cautiously placed a hand on his back. Up until the start of the show, he had placed his elbows on his knees, hunched over with his chin resting upon the mans’ locked fingers. Farim’s eyes stared forward with the intense focus that would catch the floor on fire if such acts were possible. The sudden touch of the random person made him jump slightly, and broke him out of his trance. “It is my time, then. I shall not disappoint!” Farim spoke aloud before the stagehand could even explain where his entrance was or where he was meant to go. Farim simply moved forward where his heart told him to go - something he needed to do more often.

The bustling voices of the crowd was the first to rush his ears, and a slowly rising chorus of exciting cries and claps as the Shehazde made his way onto the stage. Lights quickly flicked towards him, prompting him to raise his arm to block the oppressive rays from blinding him in the initial moments of his entry. He was tempted to vault into view - to be grandiose from the start - but he would work his way to such opulence and showmanship. He simply strode to the middle of the stage, faced the crowd, and raised his hand high into the air. Farim looked up towards the ceiling of the theater, collected air into his lungs until his chest ballooned up. A firm but loving shout came from the back of his throat.

“Soooooooooooooriaaaan!”


He paused as the crowd had mixed reactions of continued clapping and mild shushing. As the crowd settled down, Farim lowered his hand and moved his gaze to match it until his gloved hand covered half of his face. “I come from the far land of Alidasht! I am here to usher our culture, our ways, and our extravagance into your hearts so that you may relish in the splendors of my people!” The man threw his arms high above him, striding around the stage as he continued. “I can only hope that such splendors can match the luxury and sights that the graceful Danroses have blessed you all with!” A little ass-kissing never hurt, so Farim threw it in there to compliment the royalty present. The man twirled back around and began walking back towards the other side of the stage, the golden accents on his falconry gear beginning to glitter and flare against the moving stage lights.

“You see…back home there is often the tradition of ‘rafiq madaa alhayaa’” He spoke the phrase in his mother tongue slowly for those in the crowd to repeat at their own leisure. “In your tongue, it translates roughly to ‘lifelong companion’. For we find ourselves often intertwined with the fate of many beasts and creatures that live on this world. In one way or another - we end up saving or helping the lives of such beauties of nature, and in doing so earn ourselves a lifelong friend.” He paused and stood center stage, placing his hand towards his chest as his tone became somber yet still just as boisterous.

“I had encountered the star of our show when she was a babe. A tiny little eyas that found herself wounded and in the middle of a snake’s den.” Farim’s ferocious tone became venomous - as if to mimic that of a snake. “As they opportunistic predators went in for the kill - I, a young teenager at the time, leaped in and brought all the snakes to heel in one swift grab!” He mimicked the very motion of swooping and grabbing up nearby “snakes” and held his fist high in the air.

The crowd subsequently oo’d and aah’d at each little story beat while he shared this gripping tale of how he met his lifelong friend. “And from that day forth I had gained a companion. An ally. A friend. And since then we have trained, travelled, and even fought alongside one another. Our bond is truly magnificent!” Farim then pointed towards the back of the stage, which had been purposefully dimly lit in order to hide his setup. “Now enough of my talking - let my action show you just what I am talking about!” The light technicians moved the stage lights around, slowly revealing several structures with hoops, holes, and posts jutting out for optimal grabbing and roosting capabilities.

Farim placed his hand to his ear, a cocky grin on his face as the next instant there was a shrill cawing noise from high above the seats. Another click of the stage lights pointed a single beam at a roosting Thara, wings spread to either side. The bird took some testing swipes of her wings - as if to feel out the wind resistance of this enclosed space. She then swiftly took a dive towards the patrons while Farim raised his hand high above his own head.

The crowd gasped, and some of the meekly hearted began to voice their concerns and worries for the bird. But Farim held no fear in his heart, and he quickly swooped his hand down to signal Thara to pull up and stop her careening descent towards the masses. Thara swung around to the side as Farim pulled his hand to the right, their actions synchronized and mirrored from one another. The man flicked his arm out and Thara responded in kind by making another dive towards him. At the last possible moment she slowed her descent to land on Farim’s arm with absolute grace. The landing was as light as a feather, and the crowd met the show with an enthusiastic show of hands - and a few minorly disgruntled heart attack victims begrudgingly followed suit.

The remainder of the show was a masterpiece - Farim wordlessly guided his companion around the stage’s obstacles - littered with distracting glints of glitters, gold, and feathers to purposefully throw her off her game. But Thara was locked in on her dear friend’s commands. There was none other that she trusted more than Farim. The man had seen this tiny creature grow from a small bundle of stress-pricked feathers into a majestic bird of prey, and he could not be more proud of her than he was in this moment.

The pair continued their dance, with each motion of Farim prompting an equally exaggerated movement from Thara. She dashed through hoops, bobbed through the posts along the specifically designed structures laced around the stage, and routinely took flight above the crowd. The more enthusiastic among them would reach up to try and feel the breeze of her wing beats against their palms. During one such flight, it was clear that the performance would need to come to a close. Farim had made his way towards the back of the performing area, and pivoted on his foot to face Thara as she began to twirl and dive simultaneously towards him. With a grin, the prince burst into a full sprint towards his trusted bird. Just as their trajectory would put them on the path to collision, Farim kicked his feet up and bounced off the floor into a frontward flip. Farim tucked his legs in, continuing his spin while soaring above Thara. The feathered animal continued its twirling and tucked her wings while she dove under the man.

Once the landing stuck, Thara flared her wings out and sharply turned backwards. Thara made her way back to Farim and repeated her same graceful landing at the start of the show, letting loose a firm coo from her beak. Farim raised his left hand up, and Thara mirrored this motion with her left wing. They both lowered their torsos slowly in a form of bow towards the crowd - eliciting an eruption applause from the excited fans of the foreign prince. With his head held high, Farim waved towards the enthused patrons of the theater with that telltale smile going from ear to ear. As he made his way backstage, he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at Thara.

“Well fucking done, my sadiq (friend). I could not ask for a better bird.” Thara softly coo’d in response, rubbing her head against his outstretched finger.

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Hidden 1 day ago Post by Tpartywithzombi
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Tpartywithzombi “Strong women are absolutely unpredictable.”

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Violet


The morning had been nothing short of a whirlwind. Violet’s room was a flurry of activity as maids scurried about, their arms laden with gowns of every conceivable fabric, cut, and color. Yet, gown after gown failed to meet her exacting standards. Her frustration grew with every rejected dress, her scarlet-red eyes narrowing as she surveyed the garments draped across her room.

“No, no... none of these,” she said, her tone sharp with impatience. Her hands swept through the air dismissively as yet another maid entered, presenting another option that would inevitably fail to impress.
Time ticked away, but her decision remained elusive. Violet felt the weight of the moment—tonight was not just any evening. It was a gallery opening, true, but more importantly, it was her chance to make an impression on her date.

Finally, when all seemed lost, the maids revealed the last option: a black gown, a departure from the vibrant or pastel pieces she had been offered earlier. Her gaze lingered, drawn to its striking design. The plunging neckline exuded daring elegance, while the shoulders were adorned with intricate metal pauldron-style jewelry. Silver ravens were engraved into the polished metal, their wings spreading as though poised to take flight. Delicate chains draped from the shoulders, catching the light and adding an air of mystery.
“Who designed this one?” Violet asked, her voice low and commanding as she stepped closer to examine it. Her confidence seemed to ignite the moment her eyes fell on the gown, a demeanor far bolder than her usual. She traced a finger lightly over the silver details, admiring the craftsmanship.

“Lady Violet I think you’ve made the right decision” her lady maid commented as Violet offered her a smile “and you’ve done a fantastic job. Thank you” she smiled.

The maids had outdone themselves. The dress, now perfectly tailored to her figure, hugged Violet's form in all the right places, the plunging neckline unapologetically revealing the scars that marked her chest. They weren’t hidden this time, as they so often were. Instead, they became part of her ensemble. The silvery glint of the metal adorning her shoulders caught the sunlight streaming through the carriage window, casting fleeting reflections on the walls inside.

Her hair was styled with meticulous care, long curls cascading down her back while one side was pulled back into an intricate braid. A silver raven pin secured the braid, tying the entire look together with an air of understated elegance and a nod to the artistry of her gown.

The carriage rolled to a stop, and the door was opened by an attendant, who extended a gloved hand to help her step down. Violet accepted the assistance with a soft smile, her crimson eyes glinting with confidence as she stepped onto the cobblestone drive.

Approaching the grand doors of the event, her eyes caught sight of Roman.

He stood with an air of effortless charisma, his ensemble bold and daring, a reflection of his artistic nature. The colors and textures of his outfit seemed alive, the details subtle yet commanding attention.

Their eyes met, and Violet couldn’t help but let a playful grin tug at her lips. She bit back a wider smile as she drew closer, the faint sway of the chains on her shoulders mirroring her steps.

“Lord Ravenwood,” she greeted, her voice velvet smooth, the hint of mischief unmistakable. Her eyes swept over him briefly, a glimmer of amusement lighting them. “You’ve certainly dressed to impress tonight. You look good.”


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Hidden 1 day ago Post by Helo
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Helo Wonderlust King

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Time: 11-ish am
Location: Edin Theater
Interactions: Wulfric & Auguste (while ignoring Edin, Alibeth, and Morrigan)

Warning: Contains slander against all birds!!




Callum was a tad late but in his defense, it wasn’t easy finding formal wear for a monkey. A few heads turned upon his arrival; perhaps some were surprised to see the young prince looking almost respectable in a dark blue suit, uncharacteristically well-groomed, and even wearing a smile for the event. A dark pair of sunglasses hid his pinpoint pupils and glassy expression but the sweet and smoky scent that clung to him betrayed one of his indulgences.

Most, however, were simply confused to see a wiry little spider monkey perched atop the prince’s shoulder wearing a matching suit. Both sported a pop of color in their matching bright pink bow ties, which Cal had picked out to show their support for Ana in her big performance. Some likely wondered if the prince brought a monkey into such a formal occasion to stir up trouble, but the monkey matched Cal’s calm demeanor as the creature flashed wide smiles at those who turned to look at them.

A quick stop at the concessions stand, as Callum bought two fruit cups, allowed a few to see the monkey even bow gracefully before wrapping his tail around one of the fruit cups. It seemed the monkey had better table manners than the prince, as it daintily snacked upon fresh fruit. The monkey’s suit remained pristine as the animal chewed with a closed mouth, happily bobbing his head. Callum then climbed the stairs to the private viewing box reserved for his family and sat beside his brothers, without a single word to either monarch.

“Good morning, Wulfy. Auggie. Lovely day. May I introduce you to my new friend, Clarence?” He asked, his words slow as a snail's pace but not quite slurred.

At the mention of his name, Clarence again stood upright, gracefully balanced on Cal’s shoulder, and bowed just as he had for his fruit up. “Ain’t he somethin’” He added, grinning, just as Farim took the stage.

Callum sat transfixed by Farim’s story and the incredible flight path of Thara. The falcon’s grace seemed effortless, her movements matched Farim’s commands as if they shared one mind, and there was just something incredible about seeing such a creature soar.

What a majestic–

<Birds are stupid. Ugly beasts. Flapping around. Squawk, squawk, squawk. Better to eat them. Tasty.> Thoughts that weren’t his intruded into his mind and shouted over his own.

“I like birds.” Callum whispered out loud to the voice only he could hear. His heart crumpled as he thought of the dove that would never fly again. Because of him.

<You are a stupid mortal child. Flap flap. Squawk, squawk. Just like a bird. Be silent like your brothers. Act the part.> Clarence’s voice reverberated in his mind.

Callum's sunglasses hid his eye roll but the unearthly growl that abruptly clamored around in his head told him Clarence could sense the disrespectful gesture. His head continued to throb long after the sound ceased.
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Hidden 1 day ago Post by samreaper
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samreaper Laughing Imp

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Kazumin Nagasa




Time: 28th, Evening
Location: Edin Theater
Interactions:
Mentions: Calbert, Persephone/Olivia, Charlotte


The past few days had been rough on him physically and mentally. This made the idea of performing after the break-in have the baron offer to cancel.

At first, he intended to take it, but after all the bullshit Calbert put him through and his outburst were clear signs. He had too much pent up in him, his black-gloved right hand gripped the semi-large box clutched to his right side as he walked.

An outlet was needed, and this theater offered him the perfect opportunity to alleviate some of his anxiety, enough to get his head back to stability. It was only fair to show Calbert his thanks for the gifts his goons kindly left them.

With such a bold message clear, the count probably expected him to hide away or run which he didn’t want to lie to himself, he almost did. Were it not for his little sneak out to Char’s place earlier this morning he might have cowered in some bedroom corner. Shaking the bitter image away followed by an airy huff. No one was better at knocking his sense back in than Percy, a sly chuckle and Char’s concern and generosity along with knowing they were actually safe helped to renew his spirits.

His family, however, he still had yet gotten word on. A curse to these mule slow-ass forms of getting mail around. He could only trust they were unharmed like his friends.

The sleep after improved his complexion, albeit still. His hair proved a real battle due to stiff bed hair, but after much brush wrestling and enough gel to give his blonde hair a bright golden sheen almost, the cowlick bounced brightly. Choosing to wear a simple Dark-blue Dress suit without the frills and cape, much as he liked it. Uncomfortable as ever, but it covered up the marks and bruises so it would have to do. No, his real fit rested within the box; smirking at the thought of Calbert’s face in shock to see or hear of his little show despite the scare attempt.

Kazumin knew running wasn’t running and the man already thought him mad. So might as well give the man what he wanted.* Always wanted to perform to a big crowd…wished it had been better circumstances but...* Pumping his free fist up in excitement trying to enjoy it;, even if a little a bit of his old gumption helped bolster his wavering confidence.

The theater soon came into view, and he stopped a short distance away, having decided to make his way there on foot. The walk had been what he needed to get fresh air and think about how he should approach this dance. As there were plenty of things he wanted to say to the bastard, most of all longed to sock him in that smug prick face.

He thought back to Calbert’s party and his plans, likely his nerves and proper motivation that stopped him. Kazu never wanted or asked for any of it, the dinner ensured no peace and the tree took away his option to run, this left him with very little to do, and like damn hell was he going to spend it cowering and looking over his shoulder….not anymore. Not when his family’s safety was at risk.

Yet, the fact that Princess Ani had a big hand in the theater’s special event meant he didn’t want to do anything to ruin it. Not to mention lack of prep and time due to his needing to recuperate. And unlikely he'd get a second chance on stage to show off his bombastic dance skills without the boring ballrooms in the way.

No, today would just be that, a dance. A little teaser for the count. Plus, there was still a certain matter with Fritz he needed to discuss. Figuring out if he truly was a good man and an ally of his or not was first before proceeding on, though. Caution. Caution was the one thing he had to keep in mind most going forward; a truly deadly challenge.

With his mind calmed and focused finally, Kazumin hummed his way inside.

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Hidden 17 hrs ago Post by Lava Alckon
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Lava Alckon

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Drake


Time: Morning of the 28th
Location: Edin Theater
Mentions: King Edin, Queen Alibeth, and Charlotte Vikena @princess





With the conclusion of the first act, and the foreign prince making his way offstage, Drake couldn’t help but smile at the man. Drake offered a silent bow towards Farim as he passed by, acknowledging his stellar performance. The curtains began to close, and the stage crew quickly got to work disassembling the complex arena that Farim had requested. Within moments the stage was once again clear, and out wheeled a grand piano with the golden letters of “Steinway” written across its front. Never one to shirk on the expenses, King Edin. Drake smirked as he approached the seat, and gave the piano keys a few telling strikes to test their tuning. The light sounds of musical notes may be heard from beyond the curtain, but people were far too abuzz with the previous act to notice or really care.

In the pit in front of the stage, a 5 man orchestra gathered and began to tune their instruments - an assortment of cello, bass, viola, and violin experts who would reach for their appropriate tools as the pieces progressed. Drake nodded at them, giving them a few moments to warm up, and finally waved at the stagehand to pull the curtain back. The still bustling crowd immediately found themselves captivated by the scene before them. The stage lights lowered to a more neutral dim, and a translucent blue filter was placed over them cast a pale blue light entirely on the stage. Out from the wings came Lord Edwards himself, dressed in a black and blue jacket. His coat was accented with golden filigree that drew the eye - a direct contrast to the jet black pants and shoes that he wore to complete his professional attire. Their eyes would be drawn to his upper half, and the painstaking hours he spent at maintaining his beautiful yet masculine features.

The clicking of his shoes on the polished stage floor echoed through the room until Drake had reached the piano. He gave a simple and silent bow towards the crowd and took his seat - forgoing an initial introduction. Drake would instead catch their ears with his first piece.

The slow start lead into the high-speed bridging of notes together while the strings plucked away - as if trying to catch the young man in his speedster piano playing. His arms began to animate far more than necessary with each stanza. Drake felt his body lean into the performance while the audience watched with held breath. A few even wondered if there would be a similar repeat to his blunder from several days ago. But as Drake finished and stood up, it was clear there was no suspicious alcoholism to fault his step.

The abrupt applause came and died rather quickly, with Drake’s hands politely ushering for their undivided attention. The man spoke clearly and loudly - with no futuristic sound system to bolster his voice he had to project as far back as he could. Yet his words carried a certain weight and deliberate level of calmness. “Friends, nobles, and your Royal Majesties!” Drake paused for another bow directed at both King and Queen. “It is my pleasure to be before you today with a few pieces that I think truly capture the essence of our city's culture. The work you just heard is titled ‘Blue Skies’. It has a rather uplifting tune, yet still carries this enchanting melody that has you wondering what else may be in store. That right there is our way of life. Our beautiful city and its boundless passions and beautiful arts!” He raised his hands, palms towards the ceiling, in a grand gesture towards the people.

“I promise not to take up much more of your time - as I’m sure you are all excited to see what else there is in store today. The next two pieces you will be hearing are called ‘A Tender Feeling’ and ‘Illumination’. The former being a more melancholic melody that carries a weight on every note - that we may do the same with each step as we admire the natural wonders of our homeland. A bustling city by day, and a quiet realm of opportunities by night!” He took a breath, placing a hand behind his back and his hand into a softly closed fist. Pointed his thumb up and out, Drake gestured to random members of the audience as he continued. “Opportunities that each and every one of you can take. Ways to make our nation greater. To be the best versions of ourselves! To Illuminate the way ahead of his with our prestige and extravagance - much like the way our royalty provides such opulent guidance in our most trying times! Something that I hope you feel when you hear the final piece of my act this morning.

Now! Without further ado!”
Drake walked back to the piano, taking his seat, and proceeded to play the next piece. This one was the same piece his friend Charlotte had given him. Drake hoped he could redeem himself in not only the eyes of the people, but in hers as well. He would not let her gift be remembered in mockery, but instead in beauty and reverence. The man’s heart and soul went into every keystroke. A single purposeful tear rolled down his cheek, prompting some of the spectators to do the same. As the piece came to its conclusion, there was loud, joyful, and sorrowful claps all around the theater from a wide range of participants.

Drake gave them their moment, and wiped the residue of his fallen tear off his cheek before launching into his final piece. There was no gradual build - only the immediate speedy crescendo into a cascade of rhythms filled with hope, with joy, with determination. All of it poured from the stage, as the string instruments supplemented their own melodies to bring suspense and flavor to the already savory piece that filled the auditorium. Drake had practiced this particular piece since early on in his youth - he practically had it memorized. It was what he would play when things seemed bleak. When he felt like he couldn’t carry on anymore - and that his ambitions meant nothing against the grand scheme of what transpired around him. This was his fighting spirit - laid to bare for the people of his home to see. This, to him, was the essence of the arts. To channel your feelings - your emotions - your soul - into the very medium you chose so that others may share in your experiences. He channeled his thoughts and dreams into this performance, ending the last few notes with powerful slams of his fingers.

From there, he stood up, approached the edge of the stage and bowed as the audience gave their standing ovations. The roaring applause was like more music to his ears, and he gestured to the orchestra players to join him on stage to join for a group bow - which they all did happily. As the noise of the crowd settled, Drake had a final thing to say.

“We are a great nation, we are great people, and we are a great city. Hurrah to the city of Sorian!”

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Time: 11am
Location: Edin Theater
Interaction: @Helo Callum @Silverpaw Wulfric @JJ Doe Morrigan
Mention: @FunnyGuy Lorenzo



Edin’s eyes flicked toward Wulfric as he entered their viewing box, his expression initially unreadable. “Ah, the ever-dutiful firstborn,” he drawled,“Our future king, gracing us with his presence at last.”

As Wulfric came into full view, the crowd erupted in excited screams and whispers. A wave of adoration swept through the onlookers below, with girls swooning and murmurs of admiration rising in volume. They were hushed promptly by staff meanwhile Edin grumbled something bitterly under his breath.

Alibeth, meanwhile, offered Wulfric a nod of acknowledgment, and a faint smile. Her amber eyes scanned Wulfric, but she said nothing, observing him with her usual detached coolness.

As Wulfric settled in and his focus shifted to the scene below, Edin’s gaze followed his son’s line of sight.. “Your sister seems to attract all manner of... characters these days,” he remarked dryly, popping another handful of popcorn into his mouth, though his eyes slowly narrowed as he set his sights on Duke Lorenzo Vikena.

In unison with Wulfric, he suddenly sneered,“Vikena.” As Wulfric’s hiss mirrored his own, Edin’s lips had curled further. Together, they had uttered the name as if it were a curse.

Edin turned to his son, fixing him with a pointed look. Then he said, “...I trust you’ll handle it if that one causes a scene. I’m here to enjoy the show, not intervene in his theatrics.”

Alibeth’s gaze flicked between the two men. Still, she said nothing, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

Unbothered, Edin leaned back in his chair as he turned his attention to a new distraction. Grinning mischievously, he began tossing popcorn toward Morrigan, attempting to get her to catch it in her mouth. The sight seemed to amuse him endlessly, as his deep chuckle punctuated the air.

Alibeth turned her head rapidly toward Edin, her lips parting as she could not help but ask, “Must you behave like a chi—” However, it was then the sound of the box door opening caught her attention. Her question was cut short, and both parents turned to see Callum entering the room.

Silence fell over the viewing box as the young prince stepped in, looking uncharacteristically polished. But what truly left the royals—and several nearby onlookers—speechless was the sight of the wiry spider monkey perched atop Callum’s shoulder.

The creature wore a matching miniature suit and bow tie, mirroring Callum’s color scheme. The onlookers were abuzz, some whispering in disbelief at the unexpected spectacle as many guests below were pointing at Callum and his monkey.

“Marry me, Prince Callum!” came from below.

Despite the young girl’s bellow from below, Alibeth’s face had darkened, her eyes flashing with fury. “Callum,” she hissed, her voice sharp, “Where on earth did you obtain a monkey?” Her tone carried both anger and incredulity as she leaned forward, glaring at the small animal as though it might be responsible for the insult to royal decorum.

Edin, on the other hand, stared at the monkey with wide eyes, his mouth agape. He muttered under his breath, “A monkey… How is it that he has a monkey and I do not? I’m the king! If anyone deserves a monkey…It’s me.” The wounded pride was evident in his tone, his fingers digging into the armrest of his chair.

As Callum sat down, it appeared as if the King could slice through Callum with his gaze as he followed the monkey’s every move. He leaned in with narrowed eyes and barely concealed jealousy. “...Clarence is a ridiculous name… And he smells.”

Edin whirled to Alibeth and whisper-hissed, “He bows! Did you see that?!” He sank back into his chair, muttering indignantly and perhaps a little redundantly, “A monkey… I must have one. Why has no one brought me a monkey?”

Alibeth’s glare sharpened, her attention shifting back to Callum. “This is not a petting zoo, Callum-”

It was then the first performance began.

Though Alibeth had turned her attention respectfully to Farim, the king was now fixated on the monkey’s table etiquette. “Look at that! Better manners than Callum himself. Perhaps I should invite Clarence to court. At least he’d know how to behave.” He popped another handful of popcorn into his mouth, muttering bitterly between bites, “But not before I get my own monkey, mind you. A bigger one, naturally. I’m the king.”

She nudged him gently and pointed toward the performance.

Edin rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the Alidasht prince and bird, his golden crown tilting as he stuffed another handful of popcorn into his mouth. The buttery kernels glistened on his fingers as he chewed loudly. Servants had amassed a pile of several bowls of popcorn for his snack stash at this point.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, popcorn crumbs scattering as he spoke, leaning in. “How in the name of the Gods is he getting that ostrich to do that?” His gaze followed Thara as she swooped through the obstacles, the bird’s flight mesmerizing the audience below.

Farim’s front flip over the falcon earned a loud, boisterous cheer from Edin. “Ha! Did you see that?” he exclaimed, pointing at the stage with an air of indulgent glee, as though he were personally responsible for the spectacle. His booming voice drew the attention of nearby nobles in the box, who exchanged nervous glances.

But, as quickly as his amazement flared, his ego reasserted itself. Edin sat back, waving his hand dismissively. “Not bad. Not bad at all. Of course, if I had trained that bird, it would have been swooping through flaming hoops by now,” he declared, grabbing another handful of popcorn. “Back in my youth, I could have made this look effortless.” He smirked, reclining into his chair as though expecting everyone to agree with his claim.

“I like birds.”

Edin and Alibeth glanced at their youngest son upon the strange whisper. They exchanged glances, but neither decided to comment.

As Farim’s performance came to an end, Alibeth clapped politely, never betraying any true admiration. Her gaze landed on the Grand Vizier, now standing and clapping with enthusiasm. She coolly commented for the group to hear, “The Grand Vizier is standing. He seems quite impressed.””

Edin shnorted, popping another piece of popcorn into his mouth as if the Vizier’s reaction were of little consequence. “Bah, you don’t have to worry about him,” he said dismissively, licking the butter from his fingers before reaching for more. “The man would stand and clap for a puppet show if it suited his agenda.”

“...You guys remember my performance at the Festival of Lights? I had the entire crowd in tears. Real art, that was.”

Alibeth inclined her head slightly as she replied. “Yes, my king. Truly, there has never been another quite like you.” Truly, she had wanted to forget that performance at the Festival of Lights in 1736 more than she could articulate.

Soon Lord Drake Edward’s performance began, Edin leaned back into his seat, his goblet in one hand and the nearly empty popcorn bowl balanced precariously on the other armrest. The initial notes caught his attention, and his brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as the music began to wash over the theater. With each crescendo, his expression shifted from mild curiosity to something far more engaged. He sat upright, eyes fixed on Drake’s fingers dancing across the keys.

When the orchestra joined, and Drake’s heartfelt playing filled the hall, Edin let out an almost involuntary exclamation. “By the Gods…” he murmured, his voice low but tinged with awe. The richness of the melody and the sheer emotion in Drake’s performance seemed to move him in ways he hadn’t anticipated. His hand absently dipped into the popcorn bowl, but instead of chewing noisily, he paused with the kernels in hand, momentarily lost in the music.

As the audience applauded after Drake’s first piece, Edin clapped louder than anyone in the royal box, the sound of his rings echoing sharply. He glanced toward Alibeth, his expression briefly unguarded. “The boy has talent. Real talent,” he declared, before quickly snapping back to his usual demeanor. “Of course, nothing compared to my Festival of Lights performance, but… impressive nonetheless.”

“He is talented,” she agreed in a measured tone, though her voice lacked enthusiasm. As Drake introduced his next pieces, she asked, “Has anyone uncovered why the guests at Lord Edwards’ previous party were so… inebriated?”

Edin waved her off, his eyes still locked on Drake as he began his next piece. “Forget that nonsense,” he said dismissively, his voice brimming with irritation. “The boy is redeeming himself tonight. What does it matter?”

When Drake’s tear fell during his second piece, Edin leaned forward, captivated. His hand froze mid-air, the last popcorn kernel forgotten as the raw emotion of the music seemed to resonate deeply within him. He let out a long breath, almost reluctant to break the spell.

“Remarkable…” he muttered, and for a brief moment, there was no arrogance in his tone, only genuine admiration.

As Drake launched into his final piece, Edin’s mood shifted again. The vigor and energy of the music brought a grin to his face, and he rose, moving his body to the music, ignoring the disapproving glance from a nearby guard. When the performance reached its rousing conclusion, Edin shot to his feet, cheering and clapping loudly, his booming voice echoing through the theater. “Hurrah to Sorian indeed!” he bellowed, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Only can get that kind of talent from a Caesonia-born!”



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