[IC] 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

[princess]

Time:Day
Date:Sola 23rd
(RP STARTED ON 21ST - 22nd IS OFFSCREEN)

Interaction: @Helo@Tae @Mole @ReusableSword @Rodiak @JJ Doe @Aerandir @Conscripts @Infinite Cosmos @Potter @13org @Heartfillia @Tpartywithzombi @samreaper @Silverpaw @Inertia @mantou @Terrance420 @Potter @FunnyGuy @SausagePat @Lava Alckon @CitrusArms @Blizz @PapaOso @Apex Sunburn @Ojo chan 42

Good day to all of Sorian! It is a beautiful day with many wondrous events and experiences to await you.
We did not release a newspaper for Sola 22nd due to technical difficulties within the office. However, the morning paper was sent out to all today! The second two pages will explain the events happening today.

Please see below:

NEWSPAPER FOR SOLA 23

[princess]

Music+Ambiance - CLICK BOTH VIDEOS AT SAME TIME

The Sorian beaches, while not as overtly tropical as their counterparts in Veirmont, still managed to evoke a reminiscent tropical vibe among Caesonians. The enchanting sound of steel drums resonated through the air, emanating from the talented band positioned on the nearby stage. As the rhythmic beats was heard all throughout the shoreline, an irresistible invitation danced on the breeze, enticing beachgoers to sway their hips in sync with the infectious melody.

The clear turquoise waves gently lapped against the soft sandy shore, inviting people of all ages to dive in and experience the refreshing respite. Lifeguards stood by up high in elevated chairs, ensuring the safety of the many swimmers in the sectioned-off area.

Meanwhile, the aroma of treats wafted through the air. Food carts lined the beach as many looking to make a quick coin tried their luck, offering a delightful assortment of snacks to appease any craving. From savory delights like crispy chips to sweet temptations such as tropical fruit smoothies and ice cream, the variety of culinary delights catered to every palate, ensuring that no beachgoer went hungry.

Anticipation was also growing for the thrilling boat racing event set to take place later in the afternoon. Down by the dock, there were a few canoes being set in the water, ready to accommodate teams of racers when the time came for it.

Children could be seen building sandcastles and running about the sand, their gleeful shouts blending harmoniously with the sounds of crashing waves and cheerful chatter. Sunbathers lounged on colorful beach towels, basking in the warm caress of the sun.

When it came to beachwear, it varied greatly following the implementation of the new, remarkably liberal rule. Many folks still stuck to conservative wear such as form-fitting water suits and long flowing dresses that women didn't mind getting wet as that was what they were used to. However, there were also quite a few daring to bare some skin with swimsuits revealing legs, arms, and even tummies in some instances. These types of swimsuits were usually associated with the most progressive Varian Kingdom, but for whatever reason, King Edin had decided to change the rules this season.

[princess]

Ambiance+Music- CLICK BOTH VIDEOS AT SAME TIME

The melodious songs of birds filled the air, creating a symphony of nature's delight that juxtaposed the man-made sounds of the string quartet and harp as the musicians performed. The royal gardens had gradually come alive with the presence of noblemen and women. An array of long white-clothed tables could be found all about the gardens, adorned with an enticing spread of desserts and tea treats. Cakes, pastries, and sandwiches beckoned the taste buds of all, while a mesmerizing chocolate fountain stood front and center with its cascading richness. Scattered all about as well were chairs, many accompanied by soft pillows and cushions, providing comfortable spots for people to gather and mingle as they embraced the warmth of the afternoon sun that showered its radiant glow upon all in attendance.

Elegant women adorned themselves with large sunhats adorned with delicate ribbons, casting a graceful shadow over their faces. Some even carried parasols. However, the garden also offered shaded areas, providing refuge for those seeking respite from the sun's intensity. The attire of the guests exuded a sense of refined elegance, with most donning the quintessential Caesonian tea wear. The women's attire consisted of frilly and feminine dresses, while the men showcased luxurious suits.

Meticulously trimmed hedges bordered the gardens, defining the perimeter with their lush greenery. Meandering stone paths crisscrossed the ground, guiding visitors toward a magnificent water fountain. Its gentle splashes provided a soothing backdrop to the lively conversations and laughter that filled the gathering. Adjacent to the fountain, a string quartet of well-dressed and highly esteemed musicians accompanied by a harpist played a beautiful and relaxing tune, enchanting the atmosphere.

Proudly standing near the fountain were statues commemorating King Edin and his esteemed ancestors, warmly welcoming their guests to the private event.

[Apex Sunburn]

Interactions:
Mentions: Kalliope @Tae

Date: Sola 23rd
Time: ~0700

“Tsaan-teik…”

That call came as it always did: from the inky black, and in a croaking whisper on the verge of death. And yet, it echoed through the darkness and rang in Sjan-dehk’s head. Over and over again, the call repeated its plea. Always in that same whisper. Always in that same tone. Always from everything and nowhere at the same time.

Who was it? Sjan-dehk tried to focus, but his mind felt leaden. His legs moved on their own, slowly wading through dark, icy water as if it were honey. Where was he going? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. No matter how far he ventured into the darkness, the call never got any closer. Still he pushed forward.

Cold, inky black surrounded him. The humming rush of water filled his ears.

“Tsaan-teik…”

Jafin. They had to be Jafin. Only someone of his ilk would call his name in their dialect. But he knew many Jafins. Who was this one? Why were they calling to him? He pressed forward. Collapsed wooden beams and broken planks melted out of the darkness. Water dripped from an oppressive ceiling. The droning hum grew into a gushing roar. Floorboards creaked and rolled beneath his feet.

A ship. He was on a ship. A badly damaged one, at that. But he didn’t know her name. He’d served on far too many ships to remember. Yet he felt as if he should remember this one.

“Tsaan-teik!”

The voice was clear now. It belonged to a boy. Not just any boy, but one he knew well. One who had been a close friend, and one whose name now escaped him. Memories surged into Sjan-dehk’s head. Sore and heavy arms passing buckets of powderbags between the decks. The shouts of men and boys. Cracks of muskets and roars of cannons. Then, the shattering of wood. Jagged splinters cutting through his clothes and his flesh. Chilling, otherworldly screams. Warm blood and cool tears tracking down his cheeks. Water surging through the new hole in the hull.

Inky black water. Dark and icy.

Sjan-dehk blinked.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a small figure buried beneath a mountain of broken wood. His face was naught but a swirling mass of darkness, but Sjan-dehk immediately knew that he had been the one calling for him. Churning, rising waves lashed against his body. “Tsaan-teik!” His call was desperate, and the arm he stretched towards Sjan-dehk shivering like a leaf upon the summer winds. But he was just a few steps away. Just a few, short steps through inky black water. He could rescue him easily.

Sjan-dehk moved and immediately knew something was wrong. His gait was shorter than usual, and the icy water lapped against his knees rather than his ankles. He looked down at his body. Then he looked at his arms. He was a boy again. That didn’t matter. Nothing else did. He just had to rescue his friend, and so he pushed through the surging waves. His souring limbs yelled at him. He ignored them. The water rose to his chest. He ignored the tendrils of frost curling around his heart. He had to save his friend.

His outstretched fingers almost brushed against the hand sticking out of the water. So close.

That was when he felt a strong grip clasp onto his shoulders and wrenched him back. “Sjan-dehk! It’s too late! You can’t save him!” A new voice. Or voices. A chorus of thousands shouting at him in unison. More hands pulled at him. At his arms, his legs, wrapping around his waist and chest. But still he struggled and yelled, his own unbroken voice alien to his ears. He bit at the hands, and kicked and flailed, but every one he managed to tear off his own body was replaced by several more. “It’s too late!”

The chorus morphed into a terrible, aberrant peal of thunder. Sjan-dehk struggled. He screamed his throat hoarse as the dark, icy water consumed his friend. And soon, the inky black consumed him as well.

Sjan-dehk inhaled sharply as his eyes shot open. His heart pounded like a frantic wardrum, and the sweat beading upon his forehead and matting his hair was cold. He clambered out of his hammock with the rush of a sailor called to action, almost crashing to the floor had he not found his footing in time. Chaotic eddies in his head churned every thought into a disorganised mess. He wiped a hand across his eyes repeatedly, as if he could physically remove the images he’d seen from his irises.

Bleary-eyed, he felt his way through his cabin until he reached his desk. White-knuckled hands held onto it as he drew in a deep breath. Calm. He had to be calm. The lump forming in his throat was swallowed with great difficulty, and soon his rapid pants gave way to ragged breaths. He squeezed his eyes shut until he felt his heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm. Then, he opened them.

His cabin was as he’d left it the previous night: an utter mess. Charts both old and new, books and scrolls both well-worn and fresh, covered his desk. Navigational tools sat disused on shelves and in boxes. Only his clothes and equipment were organised with any sort of care, hung as they were from rails set into the ceiling. Still in a daze, Sjan-dehk shifted items across his desk without any real thought.

As the shock of the nightmare wore off, embarrassment and annoyance quickly took its place. None of the images his mind had conjured were anything new. He’d had this nightmare before, among others; it should be something he was used to, by now. Or at least something he knew how to deal with.

He breathed in deeply through his nose and pushed himself away from his desk. It’d just been a long time since he even had the time to have nightmares, he told himself. Between fighting a war, clearing the seas of pirates, and the stress of the voyage to Sorian, every night in recent years had ended with him so tired that he fell into dreamless sleep. But now? He had no pressing matters to attend to. Nothing that called for so much attention that it would distract his mind from whatever it was that haunted him, at least.

He grunted as he threw on his clothes. Selfish as it was, he couldn’t help but miss the war. Or just combat in general. There was nothing quite like the rush of a fight to take the mind off of things.

A blue outer tunic went over a thinner, white counterpart. Sjan-dehk deftly tied the laces on his right with a single hand. “It’s all over,” he muttered to himself. Peace was a good thing, he knew. It pleased him to no end that his homeland was no longer torn apart by bloody conflict. Yet at the same time, he feared it. One day it would catch up to him, and then what could he do? All he’d ever known was sailing and fighting and the open sea.

And the water. Dark, icy water.

Sjan-dehk hissed as he squeezed his eyes shut once more. He had to stop thinking about that. It wouldn’t do him any good. He gritted his teeth and tightened his sword belt around his waist. Routine. He just had to focus on that. Sword belt, then shoulder belts. His sabres came next, sliding neatly into their frogs on either side of his body. Then his four pistols, one into each holster. He grabbed his hat on his way out of the cabin and into the bright, morning sun warming the deck of his Sada Kurau.

He breathed in the crisp air and made his way to the quarterdeck. There, he found Azwan and Avek both looking out at something towards the city. “Morning,” Sjan-dehk greeted with a nod. Whatever traces of his earlier turmoil had been wiped clean from his face and voice. Before his crew, he could be nothing but the unflappable and sometimes mischievous captain they all knew him as.

“Good morning, Captain,” the two men greeted in turn, accompanied by salutes. Sjan-dehk joined them at the guardrail.

“We’re just looking at the beach.” Azwan gestured to the sandy shores. Crowds of people were gathered by the waterside. Some had carts with them, others seemed to be carrying boats of some sort. Most were just enjoying themselves in the shallows or playing on the sand. “Looks like there’s something going on.”

Sjan-dehk nodded. “Worth a look, I suppose. Not like I’ve got anything going on today.”

Avek smirked. “Don’t you have a date later?”

A flush came over Sjan-dehk’s cheeks. “I-It’s not a date,” he stuttered, much to his dismay. He’d spent the previous day with Kalliope as she showed him around Sorian. Along the way, she managed to convince him to join her at a masquerade ball to be held later tonight. They'd even gone shopping for what they'd wear together. Sjan-dehk cleared his throat. “She’s attending a banquet or feast of some sort later. I’ll simply be her escort. That’s only polite, after all she did for me.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Avek said, his grin still pulling on his lips. “But I thought you hated those sorts of things, Captain. Strange that you agreed.”

Sjan-dehk tugged on the collar of his shirts. Mursi wasn’t wrong; Sjan-dehk did carry a special disdain for anything formal. But he didn’t quite mind Kalliope’s company, if he had to be honest. She was pleasant to be around, and he thought they got along well enough. There was no real reason for him to turn her down, and besides, he may as well get used to how Caesonian nobles did things. He’d have to mingle with them a lot more in the near future, he imagined. Might as well take the chance while he could to attend at least one such event with someone he actually liked.

“It’s…A special situation,” he replied awkwardly.

“Special, is it?” Avek quipped. “She must be quite the wo–”

“I’m sorry, Master Avek, but are you jealous that Master Mursi gets to clean the latrines?” Sjan-dehk cut in with an arched brow. “I can have you join him, if that’s the case.”

“Understood, Captain. I’ll say no more.” Avek looked back out towards the beach. “Think we could give the people a show? Sail the Sada Kurau right across their eyes while they’re having fun.”

Azwan shot him a piercing look. “What for, Master Avek? The Sada Kurau is a warship, not a showboat.”

Avek shrugged. “Fun, I suppose. Besides, haven’t you noticed the worried looks people have been giving us when they walk past? Not sure if everyone’s as at ease with our visit as we may think.” He met Azwan’s gaze and continued. “I mean, think about it. We’re armed to the teeth and we don’t speak their language at all.” He glanced at Sjan-dehk. “Not most of us, at least. We should do something to let them know that we’re friendly. Peaceful, at least.”

Sjan-dehk considered his words, then rested his arms on the guardrail. “You just want to show off, Avek. I know you too well.”

“Guilty as charged, Captain.”

Chewing on his lip, Sjan-dehk continued to mull over Avek’s suggestion. He wasn’t wrong; it would do his Sada Kurau and his crew some good to show some goodwill. Already, he’d had to punish several men for what likely stemmed from simply misunderstandings. “Don’t think we can do it even if we want to,” he said and tilted his chin towards the shoreline. “Look at the colour of the water. It’s too shallow. Chances are that we’ll run aground if we want to get close enough for any good.”

And if that happened, a hole would be torn in his Sada Kurau’s hull, and water would flood in.

Dark, icy. Sjan-dehk closed his eyes again to banish the thought, his jaw clenched. He looked down at the water. Inky black. Shouts of a desperate boy. A hand sticking out of churning waves. No, he couldn’t allow himself to go down this path. He squeezed his eyes balled his hands into loose fists. He couldn't allow a mere dream to play tricks on his mind.

“Captain?” It was Avek, the usual mirth in his voice replaced by concern.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well,” Sjan-dehk replied quickly and opened his eyes with a long sigh. “I’ll have a look at what’s going on at the beach later.” He looked down at the water again. This time, golden shimmers rippled upon gentle, cerulean waves. It was bright. Vibrant, even, and not at all dark. With a nod to the two men, Sjan-dehk turned and walked away. All was well and all was fine. He just had to keep telling himself that.

[FunnyGuy]

Time: Late Morning
Location: Sorian Beach
Interaction: @princess Charlotte

If I am going to travel from home, what better way than to enjoy the sun's warmth? Lorenzo beamed as he lay comfortably against the massive forest-green blanket atop the loose beach sand. The sun’s rays were pleasant as the orb of heat had not yet reached the center of the sky. Usually, Lorenzo tried his best to stay away from large crowds but spending time at the beach was an exception. The music and crashing of the wave seemed to put him at peace, a rare occurrence for him when he was sober.

Today was stark from yesterday when Lorenzo spent most of his time indoors, keeping as much attention off him as possible. He and Charlotte hadn’t spoken about the events of the carriage and the invisible space they put between them was telling for those within their estate. On a positive note, Lorenzo was informed that the fugitives hiding in his home were gone. Instead, there was Olivia, a family friend that Devan brought along. Still, Lorenzo was still unhappy learning how many people had entered his home after asking Nathaniel and Delilah about the previous day. With things somewhat in order to, include the rooster that woke him around dawn with its obnoxious crowing, Lorenzo was content for the most part.

“Ahhhhh! What a wonderful day!” Lorenzo smiled with shut eyes as he took in the music and the sun wearing nothing but his vibrant red speedo. Edin’s new decree gave Lorenzo the chance to break out what would have previously been a controversial piece of attire. Though the smell of sweet treats tempted him, Lorenzo’s goal was to get a nice tan that would leave even the Alidasht with envy. “Could someone test the water for me? I don’t want to get in when it’s too cold.”

[Lava Alckon]

Farim

Location: Sultan's Chambers -> Farim's Chambers
Time: 8pm
Mentions: Sultan, Hafiz, Anastasia @princess, Nahir @Rodiak, Ariella @Tpartywithzombi, Dali @Ojo chan 42

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Farim entered the Sultan's room as requested at the hour, finding Nahir likely to be sat there and his ever loving father present. A slight scowl had adorned his face, but this was not to Farim's surprise. Likely there was some inconsequential thing that Hafiz found distasteful and he would make it his mission to give Farim hell to pay for it. But for now his attention was reserved for someone far more important. He couldn't help but feel anxious at what the Sultan would have for him, and he took the chance to bow before him and take a seat next to his cousin.

"Your Radiance." He greeted.

Then the Sultan spoke of his pride for him. To hear this praise was a welcome change of pace. For a few moments it felt as if he was speaking with his uncle rather than the ruler of Alidasht. He made some firm points, to which Farim would nod in agreement. Hafiz's glare would be everpresent as the mention of a potential partner came up, and Farim couldn't help but think on what exactly entails an ideal partner for him. Sultan Raif made it abundantly clear that he couldn't just pick any person here for potential courting, but someone that would fit with his role as a potential world leader. He felt the notion to be a touch on the nose and pragmatic, but he still kept a postiive demeanor for the time being. Such a big choice could hardly be made in a day.

As the group spoke amongst one another, whatever it is they would share between one another, Farim would make sure to end the night with another bow followed by his usual cadence of respect and tactful words. "Your Radiance I shall not overlook such praise. I am deeply humbled by your words and will consider them deeply in the days to come. I hope I can do you and our family proud." He would ignore any remarks from his dad and proceed to walk out of the room once dismissed. If he were to pass by Nahir on the way outside the chambers, once they had gained some distance from the doors, he would give a much more casual and friendly grin her way before they parted to their rooms.

"For what it's worth. I appreciate how you handled yourself at dinner. As much as this whole 'race for the throne' is between us, I hope we can still remain close as a family regardless of outcome. If you were chosen I want you to know I would give you my support in any way I could." He turned to face Nahir and pulled the cloth turban constantly protecting his head off, showing the brown curly locks that would likely be still wet with product. He tucked the headpiece under his arm and looked at Nahir. "No matter what may happen, even if something violent like the dinner. Whatever you or Mayet or whomever may say I still consider you all family. Tisbah ‘ala khayr (Good night) my cousin." He would pause for her to say or do whatever she may in response and then head into his chambers for the evening.

Once inside, Farim began to change into more comfortable clothing fitting for someone resting for the evening. His simple white cloth robes were smooth to the touch, expertly woven by one of the more finer artisans from back home. He made sure to stride over to Thara, petting her along her head and giving a single kiss along her beak. She would coo softly and ruffle her wings, clearly tired from the days activities. He put together an arrangement of hookah nearby, cleaning off his pipe, nozzle, and preparing a well-woven batch of herbs from his brother Dali. Tonight had been stressful, and for just a few moments Farim needed to take the edge off his stress and worries.

Farim's inner monologue

Farim sat in a chair and pulled the nozzle to his lips, pulling in a thick drag of smoke to start the night off strong. Immediately his vision blurred and he let out a slight cough. Inshallah, Dali, what did you put in this? He took a lighter puff to let the smoke and natural herbs work their magic. His mind drifted and he thought of how his day had gone. He admitted it was a rather chaotic start with his late evening arrival, and the morning left some to be desired after Layla's usual harsh judgement of the foreigners attempt at their cuisine. He began to giggle as her remembered her scowling face upon trying the various treats they had assembled. Heh heh. Dear cousin Layla you are so picky.

After that he had met back up with not only her, but Nahir and his new friend Anastasia as well. Not to mention Saiya and Dali had even arrived in the park. Truly Sorian park became Shehzadi park that day. Hehehe! Another fit of laughter escaped his lungs while reminiscing about the events leading up to the nights conclusions. He had met spent most of the day with Anastasia, and most of the evening with Ariella, two wonderfully kind people he had already started to enjoy the company of. Sadly there was some drama at the family dinner...But that is to be expected, no? He sighed and pulled another lungful of smoke into his body.

He began to think and hope that the Princess was safe, wherever she may be. He hoped Ariella's emergency had not been cause for such an alarm. He hoped that Charlotte girl would find the answers she was looking for, and that her father could hopefully escape the wrath and gaze of his vengeful father. A string of hopes and dreams rattled off in his head. All this just on the first day. I suppose I am glad to be here. If not to say I met some beautiful women and tried some lovely food~. His filter began to fade, being alone with his thoughts in this state was somewhat euphoric for Farim.

He would make sure to try and choose his partner wisely, he understood that much. But is it too much to ask for someone who loves me too? He thought to himself. Currently, the Princess had blown him away with his introduction to this fine capital, but there had been others who had made such a good impression. Some as potential allies or acquaintances, and some even as potential love interests. With his final drag he stood up and began to make preparations for bed. A final giggle coming from him as he thought promiscuously about the following morning. If I really do get to see her tomorrow then it would be another good day I am sure. Especially if she is coming straight to my room, hehehehe! He knew the notion was silly, and that it was merely a visit. But when one partakes in the wares of Dali Kadir, you forfeit every notion of tact and simply indulge in the now, something Farim rarely got to do.

After a moderate session of smoking and reflection, Farim disposed of the pipe water and used leaves into a nearby bucket. He placed it outside his door for a servant to come pick up later on in the evening or early morning. His eyes were slightly reddened from the rather potent arrangement his brother had made. He couldn't help but silently giggle to himself as he continued rattling possibilities of futures in his head. For once, he felt like he had many paths to choose, but he knew to watch himself as best he could. Because he knew there was always a certain someone watching his every move.

[FunnyGuy]

Alexander Deacon

Time: Late Morning
Location: Castle Gardens
Attire: Alexander and Lianna
Interaction:
Mention:

---

“Almost there, my love.” Alexander whispered down to his wife as he carefully pushed her in her wheelchair across the bumpy cobblestone path to the Sorian castle gardens. His wife, Lianna’s face crested with a close-lipped smile as her nose picked up the potent yet delightful scent of her husband’s cologne. Alexander was dressed for the occasion, though he was also attempting to impress the others attending the event. The serenade of music put a smile on his face as he reached the guards and a master of ceremonies charged with allowing entry into the venue. “Greetings and good morning, gentlemen.” Alexander said as an abrupt hand was raised by the master of ceremonies. He had not recognized Alexander nor Lianna. A man like him with a wheelchair-bound wife would have been a couple he’d remember. Sure, they dressed the part but he wasn’t familiar with their nobility. Alexander stopped in his tracks, his face still brimming with a smile as took in the melody of the quartet several meters beyond him.

“Excuse me, sir. Lord Decklan, master of ceremonies. May I ask who you are? Where do you hail from? I apologize in advance but I do not quite recognize you.”

“Of course you don’t. Alexander Deacon and my beloved wife, Lianna Deacon. We hail from Montague. Javaria, to be more specific.” Alexander gave a slight nod. “I’m visiting the grand city of Sorian during the famous or what few call the infamous courting season.” He whispered the rumored bit, leaning toward the master. “But! Don’t be so wary of us. Our place is here… amongst the nobility.” Lianna couldn’t help but smile at how fast-talking Alexander could be when he wanted something that he typically didn’t rightly deserve. The master of ceremonies in a fluster averted his gaze for a split second before matching Alexander’s smile.

“I assure you, I am not wary. I just enjoy getting to know the faces of those that are unfamiliar to me. Your place is definitely amongst the nobility, Lord Deacon. Find a seat to you and your bride’s liking.”

“I thank you kindly. I am looking very forward to this event.” He gave another slight nod before moving forth with Lianna. As he entered, he could feel the eyes looking in his direction. Even if she couldn’t quite see it, Lianna knew she and her husband would draw the attention of many this morning. It was the point after all.

“I think he liked you.” Lianna teased as the two approached a large table in the shade second closest to the quartet.

“I made him like me.” He shrugged before locking the wheelchair in place beside the table. He started to pull a chair back when Lianna replied.

“Are we also expecting men this courting season? Sorian has indeed changed you.” She held back a chuckle, covering her mouth with the back with a closed fist. However, Alexander let his chuckle fly freely.

“You say that but I think you would prefer that over my usual preference.” Alexander proceeded to scoop up his wife from the wheelchair and place her in the chair he had pulled out. He then pushed the chair in as Lianna wore a smug expression on her face.

“I don’t care who you… spend time with. As long as your mine.”

“Always, my love” Alexander whispered before kissing her on the cheek. He then took his seat with eyes looking about the venue as he tried to find the most notable attendants at the tea party.

[princess]

Time: Late Morning
Location: Sorian Beach
Interaction:@FunnyGuy Lorenzo @Potter Olivia @Samreaper Kazumin
Attire:Dress, Bathing Suit Underneath, Light-colored beach sandals, Hair tied back in a low-style ponytail with a lace ribbon,

---

Recap - Potter & Samreaper read please

As Charlotte bid farewell to Kazumin and Percy-Now Olivia just nights ago, a wave of weariness had washed over her, prompting her to seek refuge in the comfort of her bed. With a heavy heart and a cloud of thoughts weighing upon her, she had slowly traversed the dimly lit hallway, her footsteps echoing softly.

Pausing outside Lorenzo's door, a conflicted expression had flickered across Charlotte's face. She stared intently, her hand trembling slightly as she raised her knuckles to knock.

Yet, just as her knuckle grazed the door's surface, an overwhelming sense of unease gripped Charlotte, causing her arm to falter. The weight of unspoken words and unanswered questions became too burdensome to confront. With a heavy sigh, Charlotte had continued on to bed.

The next day had been regrettably awkward, with Charlotte and Lorenzo rather avoidant of each other. Their tension weighed heavy on her heart as she only wanted to be there for him. However, amidst the palpable discomfort, Olivia had remained a wonderful presence in the Vikena Estate. Despite all the girl had been through, Charlotte had found her to be a ray of sunshine. She had given her a guest bedroom to use and then embarked on a fun adventure with Kazumin and Olivia that seemed to cast aside the weight of their troubles, if only temporarily. Charlotte couldn't recall the last time she had a day out with friends like that, and it had been rather uplifting after the horrible day she had prior.

First, they indulged in lunch at a quaint bistro. It didn't seem like the two of them could normally afford the price of such food, so Charlotte may or may not have overdone her purchases for them. Kazumin had been kind enough to tell her what he remembered about the party while the two had given Charlotte more information about what had happened with Calbert. In return, Charlotte quietly poured out the torrent of events that had unfolded in her world, recounting the menacing encounter with Calbert at the grand ball, the chaotic unraveling of the dinner, and the unsettling situation with Violet. It was safe to say the three of them were on the same page when it came to what they had experienced the last few days.

Their day had continued with a shopping spree, the trio venturing into boutiques and shops. As they donned a variety of outfits and playfully tried on an assortment of hats, giggles reverberated through the air.

Charlotte had found it all to be reminiscent of carefree school days, especially since she had found herself in a teacher-like position as she instructed the two of them on manners on and off. It had been slightly surprising just how little the two of them had known, but she had remained patient.

“Ahhhhh! What a wonderful day!”

Charlotte smiled to herself as she set up the beach chair in the sand, her floral dress billowing in the breeze behind her. The feeling of warm sand tickling her toes and the tune of the steel drums reaching her ears all reminded her of being in the tropics of Veirmont. She anchored an umbrella firmly into the sand behind her chair and set down her books. Then she raised her gaze to look over at her companions.

Devan diligently arranged a blanket nearby. His eyes evaded direct contact, his shoulders slightly tense. The choice of Lorenzo's beachwear had evidently affected him, leaving him visibly unsettled and less forthcoming. Though concerned, Charlotte hoped that the beautiful beach and fun atmosphere would gradually uplift his spirits.

Olivia had been tasked with simply carrying the picnic basket of snacks. She and Olivia had woken up rather early to prepare a few snacks with Gilbert in the morning, even going as far as to prepare some homemade pudding to surprise Kazumin with when he arrived, which would be any moment now.

"All we need is the palm trees and I could perhaps envision we're home in Veirmont again." Charlotte commented to Lorenzo, though she had been rather careful to look him directly in the eyes. Though she supposed that she had no room to talk, the bathing suit she had ended up wearing was nothing like she had ever adorned before. Delilah, ever the instigator, had insisted she goes out of her comfort zone and bare her long legs. Charlotte had never quite understood the fascination with covering up the human body that Caesonia had, but it still had been rather surprising to hear Edin's decree about the swimsuit laws. Lorenzo had clearly taken full advantage of such, and she supposed to some degree she had as well.

After living a life where each and every move had been dictated by her mother, it had been jarring to have such freedom in her choices. However, she knew she wouldn't regret it. The feeling of the warm sun on her skin would be well worth it.

Charlotte continued on to unfold a few beach chairs for the others. Satisfied with her task, she allowed herself a moment of respite, gazing out at the mesmerizing expanse of the sea stretching before her. The waves shimmered under the warm caress of sunlight, mirroring the vastness of the sky above. It was a sight that never failed to warm her soul. She couldn't help but reminisce about the days when her father would join her on carefree dashes toward the water's edge, diving headlong into the waves. Her reverie was interrupted by the sight of her new auburn-haired friend in her vision, Olivia.

Charlotte's gaze shifted, meeting Olivia's eyes, her voice infused with warmth and sincerity. "...Olivia, my offer still stands," She affirmed. "But I'd like to relax here before we embark on our mermaid adventures. Can't go without Kazumin anyhow."

With her books cradled in her arms once more, Charlotte settled into her lounge chair. As she leisurely flipped through the pages, a pen in her hand would occasionally dance across the surface of a small notebook she had out as well.

[Potter]

Olivia

_Persephone

Time: Late Morning
Location: Sorian Beach
Interactions: @princess Charlotte ★ @FunnyGuy Lorenzo ★ @Lava Alckon Farim ★
Mentions: John
Aesthetic:
★ Swimsuit
★ Dress
★ Hair & Accessories

---

[color=mediumseagreen]

Olivia stared out at the ocean waves with her head in the clouds. The soft, rolling waves helped relax her, though staring out at them caused her stomach to churn. Behind her, the music played and helped convey a sense of relief in her. Had she not been who she was now, it was unlikely she’d be here. Their family normally stayed away from large gatherings, due to the hatred her parents had for the wealthy class. Beach trips had been adorned with frustration in her youth. It had been a chore lugging their belongings to and from their home and the beach, trying to find a space away from nobles, being mocked for their poor attire, and having their belongings stolen.

Liv remembered losing her favorite stuffed animal she’d brought everywhere; a pastel blue bunny with long floppy ears she’d named Blueberry. The hazy memory came back to her and all she could recall was reddish hair and knew the laugh had been wicked. These experiences had given Olivia a bad taste in her mouth. On top of that, she’d nearly drowned in the rift currents after a noble boy threw her mother’s jewelry in the ocean, claiming it had been “worthless”.

”...Olivia, my offer still stands,” ... "But I'd like to relax here before we embark on our mermaid adventures. Can't go without Kazumin anyhow."

Charlotte’s voice broke through her reverie and brought Olivia back down from the clouds. Whether it was the warmth of the sunshine or her new friend’s voice, Olivia was unsure. However, as she turned to face Charlotte, a smile was plastered on her face. She took a deep breath, glanced at the ocean, then turned back to her and nodded. This had been one of the few past experiences she confided to Charlotte, hoping to help bridge the gap between their lives and the understanding of who she was and was becoming.

”Offer is accepted.” She replied with a genuine smile as she sat beside Charlotte on a beach towel. ”I’d love to relax here too. Can you hand me some food please?”

Unexpectedly, the food the Vikena's kept and prepared had been something Olivia started cherishing. Her appetite was nearly unstoppable, and she ate as much as she could. She had gone months without eating properly and had eaten as much as she could. With a sigh, Olivia leaned out on her palms and stretched her long legs out and grinned to herself. The clothing she wore was out of her league and had taken her time to get used to. Shopping with Charlotte had been nerve wracking at first, due to having to change her style and undergo more of a makeover; yet, Liv couldn’t deny how cute the clothes looked, although she hadn’t been a fan of having Charlotte pay for so much. It left a hole in her heart, something she knew she’d have to pay forward in any way she could.

This had not been the adventure she thought she’d have, but she was forever grateful to Charlotte, Fritz, Kazumin, and of course, Devan.

[Conscripts]

John & Roman & ◆◆◆◆◆ "△△△" ◆◆◆◆◆◆

---

((Previous Day Collab))

△△△ kept waving in Luz’s direction as Sir Barrios pushed her wheelchair until both figures were swallowed by the crowd. He turned his attention back to where the two other Varians were and approached them. “We meet again, Grand Healer,” △△△ nodded to Dr. Williamson, then to the blacksmith lord, “Lord Ravenwood.”

“Apologies if I am interrupting your mysterious secret conversation, but I was hoping you’d be willing to indulge me with a discussion about a certain mysterious secret party.”

Movement to the corner of his eye alerted Roman to the new presence seemingly wanting to join in on their conversation. “Count Fritz '' he spoke, giving the man a nod of acknowledgement. “Not so much a secret conversation, just discussing the pros and cons of possibly bringing these fried treats and popcorn to the northern territories. We don't know if they would be addictive or possibly some kind of health hazard.” his smile still didn't fade and he sounded just as genuine as he always was around others, “So what is this talk of a secret party?” his voice lowered again.

△△△ sighed and shook his head, “The world couldn’t be crueler… Why do things that are bad for you taste oh so good? It makes no sense.” He smiled and continued as if they were still talking about food. “Why, the secret party that you attended last night, Lord Ravenwood. I heard it was wild! …But also a little concerning since everyone who attended seemed to have mysteriously lost their memories.” He glanced at Dr. Williamson for a moment. “Lady Vikena, Lord Smithwood, and I decided to investigate the matter.”

John raised his eyebrows ”Oh yeah I’ve heard of that. It’s a nightmare for us yesterday.” He shot a glance over at Roman at the mention of Lord Smithwood. Given the almost certainty of magic being used, and their identities unknown, he couldn’t help but be a little worried. Especially when it comes to these two characters, they probably weren’t aware what they were getting into. ”Oh, are yall? What have you uncovered?”

“Not much so far. That’s why I wanted to ask you about the party, Lord Ravenwood.” He paused for a moment, considering how he should phrase the next part in case the lord was not privy to the possibility. “And ask if you have considered my suspicions, Dr. Williamson.”

Listening carefully as he decided on how to respond to the question, this was the first person that personally approached him with just that question in mind. “Last night? Hmm well I've made some inquiries into the event as well. For whatever reason I was not affected as badly as some of the others." That statement was true as he glanced in the direction that Zarai left. “I still don't remember anything aside from who was with us when we left and waking up with a slight headache.”

It was, as △△△ expected, the same testimony repeated by a different person. “As it seems to be more or less the case for the others as well. Which worries me more… My primary concern is what could’ve been done to the attendees during the party. Anything could’ve happened and no one is none the wiser because no one remembers anything.”

Not only considered, but basically confirmed. But the Count didn’t know that. ”I will put that into consideration, yes. But there hasn’t been any evidence beyond speculation, and not a lot of evidence period. If there’s any in favor of your ideas, we would love to hear it.” He shrugged his shoulders and laid his palms bare, as a casual gesture, but one socially-savvy person could tell he was subtly probing the Count if he was willing to give out more information.

A knowing smile slowly appeared across △△△’s face as he stared at Dr. Williamson. Even if the doctor had stumbled upon compelling evidence, he would not disclose it to him so easily. In his role as the esteemed royal physician, Dr. Williamson was duty-bound to safeguard the well-being of the royal family and her subjects. It was inconceivable that he would have neglected to explore the potential influence of magic when the slightest possibility of its presence emerged. The consequences of disregarding it were far too great to be ignored. “You sound like an intelligencer when you say it like that.”

After carefully observing the reactions of the men, he continued. “As you say, I have no evidence, just speculations and rumors. So I am sorry to say that I will be of no use to you, Dr. Williamson.” △△△’s eyes wandered in the direction Luz and her knight went. “However, I am desperate. And I am willing to investigate less reliable leads if I must.” His focus returned to the other two. “I don’t mind if it is mere conjecture, what do you gentlemen think transpired?”

Staying quiet for a moment to let the two talk, He pondered how to go about this conversation without revealing too much information but still giving this man a tail to chase. “Well go over some of the more well known information, we were all royals or nobles from the three kingdoms, i haven't heard of anyone losing jewelry or money, most of us came out of the night rather unharmed.” he glanced at the direction the zarai had disappeared. “Most of us… no missing organs or anyone mis-shapen in any way. What could we all have that could benefit someone?”

He shifted his stance and straightened his back with a sigh, “but I do press caution for you Leo and charlotte. If this person or persons would use something that affected the nobility and royalty from multiple kingdoms in such a way, then it's not too much of a stretch to come to the conclusion that they might harm or kill anyone looking into it…” his brow furrowed for a moment at his words, Fritz could very well be putting the others in danger thus making his job harder. “So again be careful who you talk to and what questions you ask. You could inadvertently get them hurt as well.”

Guilt and sadness for a loss yet to come gripped △△△. “It may already be too late for that.” He whispered as he closed his eyes.

△△△ took in a deep breath. He noted how both men were avoiding directly answering his questions, which led him to consider the possibility that either they were withholding information or that they were involved in the investigation in some capacity. “Lady Lesdeman believes that the party attendees were drugged. Were you able to find anything in their system to support this possibility?”

”There’s a lot of alcohol in their system, that’s for sure.” John crossed his arms, giving his thoughts a second scan before actually command his vocal chord to materialize them. He really did not want to give the Count information here, but giving him less would just alert him even more, hearing how he thought John was more of a spy than doctor. It’s pretty clear he had to give him something. And his quick thoughts provided him that something.

”But within the alcohol we also find something rather…troublesome. It’s a substance called bihydrat hydroxyd.” With a completely straight face, John explained the situation. ”The substance is, and I hope you will be discreet with this information, used in anesthesia. It is also a component of acid rain and pesticide used by farmers. Now, it isn’t inherently toxic, and since everyone seems to be fine the day after, it’s likely not poisonous. But keep an eye out for any dangerous symptoms.” The doctor looked at Roman with slight efforted reassurance, but his tone otherwise was eloquent before turning back to Fritz. ”To answer your question, yes, if they were drugged, using alcohol with added substance would be a good vector of attack, seeing how it is odorless and colorless, so blends in really well with drinks. However, as much as we have used them in our medical field, none of our patients have experienced memory loss, so there are still unanswered questions.”

△△△’s eyes grew wide and his mouth became slightly agape, unable to find the right words to articulate his emotions. Bihydrat hydroxyd. Bi. Hydrat. Hydroxyd. His body began to tremble, starting with a barely noticeable quiver that grew into uncontrollable shakes. Until, finally, △△△ erupted into laughter. “Oh, Doctor! I’d be greatly concerned if they didn’t have a drop of bihydrat hydroxyd in them!” Pausing momentarily to catch his breath, he playfully added, “Would you please be so kind as to fetch me a cup of water? I’m starting to feel rather parched.”

”Ah.” John tapped the side of his head once. It didn’t fool him. Usually that would have worked. ”Sure, have some.” He grabbed a bottle from his pocket, containing water he saved from Sadie’s party. Whether or not that came off as genuine or an elaborate ploy was up to Fritz, he was just glad that the Count saw through the ruse. Now he knew what to expect.

Wiping away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes, △△△ inquired, sparing Lord Ravenwood the briefest of glances. “So, Agent… or Agents, who issued the directive to conceal the involvement of magic in this affair—His or Her Majesty, or V.R.I.S.?” ... A mysterious third party?

”Hmm, who do you think did so, Count ‘Hendrix’?” John asked the mysterious noble. ”You know, since you asked me quite a lot despite being quite aware of the transpiring situation.”

“Much less than you suspect, unfortunately. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t have evidence.” △△△ gave Dr. Williamson’s first question careful thought. “Based on past dealings, I wouldn’t be surprised if either gave the order.” As Crosswinds Tradings merchants, his family had the privilege of working with both parties, supplying them with an extensive range of ingredients, materials, and items sourced from far and wide—some of which possessed extraordinary properties by Northern Kingdom standards.

Again roman stayed quiet as the two talked, the count saying something under his breath and the Dr. making a joke of some kind related to a chemical he didn't quite pick up on. Apparently the punch line was for water or some other beverage he wasn't sure. He knew chemicals when it came to certain subjects like acid etching and the right components to mix for certain creations. Nevertheless it did not seem like the count was being swayed to the notion that the two of them didn't know anything more.

“I'm not sure what you mean by agent, I am a craftsman and the head of my family's craftsman and trading guild.” Roman wasn't sure what that third party was but only let bewilderment escape his facial features. “Magic is a dangerous thing, to both one's life and political standing. I Would tread carefully with your next words, Count Fritz Hendrix.” his voice changed slightly to a subtle accusatory tone.

“To start a rumor that the Crown was aware of the use of magic on its nobles on foreign soil and did not do anything about it while telling everyone that knew to keep it quiet… could very easily be misinterpreted as treason.” his voice didn't shift or quiver and his body language didn't change either. The people of the northern Varian territories were known to be very loyal to the crown to the point that many thought of them as zealots. Taking any perceived question or rumor as a possible threat to them. Most of those rumors held true.

The difference in the responses between the two Varians revealed a lot. The reaction to △△△’s audacious assertions, regardless of their veracity, told him even more.

Appearing unflappable or innocently oblivious to Lord Ravenwood’s warning, the count clasped his hands together. “Excellent! Does this mean you will rectify my terrible misunderstanding by sharing more of what you know?” Though the question was directed at the lord there was an unspoken invitation to the doctor to do the same, whether in front of the other Varian or in private, if need be.

John sighed; Fritz really is persistent. Roman’s response seemed to only push his buttons even further. The doctor exchanged a glance towards the northern blacksmith, tilting his head as a silent gesture to let him take the lead, and also for permission.

John was no Varian northsman of utmost loyalty, nor was he a Caesonian of grandeur. He was born into both, combined with a unique but cruelly attained perspective that really defined him as neither. He was John Harling Williamson, a scientist, epidemiologist, a healer and protector of people.

”I’ll let you in…you know what, let me tell you a story instead.” John began. ”There are a number of villages in the north, those that suffered a devastating plague not long ago. The biggest one: Alestal. It was a horrific time, entire families wiped out, generations dented with trauma.” He kept calm in his speech, but then reached into his chest pocket for a small fountain pen, covered in milk white paint and golden engravings, handing it to Fritz with gentle care.

”I was there in its darkest hours, as their salvation, and eventually I delivered it to them.” He said, without any hint of pride or sense of accomplishment, rather pity and anger. ”But I did not do any of that. She did.”

Visible on the side of the pen was a word engraved, a name: Hania.

”A local doctor from Alestal. Initially we found ourselves at odds, but in time, we considered each other partners…even friends.” A smile appeared on his face again, overriding a monument of melancholy. But soon, that smile disappeared as painful memories resurfaced. ”She’s the one who figured out the cause of the plague, the thing that so-called ‘men like you’ are so fascinated by, and fought it with itself.”

“Yes, she is a witch, and she saved that village. But.” John gave Count Fritz Hendrix an austere look, and what could be considered a desperate final warning. ”The village knew of her identity, and there was no going back. I will spare the details, but she had become so immaterial to this world that it would be difficult to even know if she ever lived at all. And that is a good ending compared to what could have been.”

John took a long deep breath, before finally relaxed, knowing he had just revealed quite a bit more than desired. But the truth was still there, and he shuddered to think of the possibility of those who failed to see it. ”How much of that was the decree of the king and queen, do you think? How much of that was the V.R.I.S deciding what is forbidden?”

Roman scoffed and stepped back folding his arms. He didn't like that he had to play the fool with political intrigue but he still had to hold some of his cards. He looked like he was going to say something when the doctor began to speak with his own warning. As he started, Roman looked towards the others for a moment then back at the count. He knew this story, there were several mysterious illnesses spreading among tight nit villages at the time. He was sent to maintain the quarantine with his men and persuade any against trying to escape or trying to get in. He did not envy John for what he and the other doctors had to do and see there.

△△△ traced the intricate engraving etched onto the surface. A hero whose name would never grace the pages of any history book. His hands cradled the priceless pen, drawing it closer to his chest, while his eyes closed in an effort to carve the name into his own memory. Dr. Hania of Alestal, Savior of Krasivaya. Each letter possessed a weighty significance, an untold tale of valor and sacrifice.

With a sense of reverence, △△△ extended his hand, offering the memento back to Dr. Williamson. “Thank you for telling me about Dr. Hania. I am honored to be one of the few to know her accomplishments. She deserved better… I am sorry you had to carry such a burden, John. It must’ve been a heavy load to bear.”

Rather than answering the doctor’s question, △△△ recounted him with the abridged version of another tale. “Within this very nation, there was a noble house that vanished inexplicably from the face of Eromora. On a day like any other day, the small town they lived in had been reduced to rubble and the denizens were found as a pile of burnt bodies—some dismembered, one tied to a stake. Such a horrific incident should’ve warranted some kind of record, but instead, every trace of their existence has been systematically eradicated. No book or official document has their name, no map shows the town, and no painting depicts their image. They were being expunged, in every sense of the word. All that remains of them now is a blighted land where the town once stood, vague recollections from those who knew of the place before it was cursed, and people too scared to reveal the truth for fear of losing something precious to them. What is unsettling… is that this isn’t an isolated event.”

The story came to an abrupt end as the previously gentle and easygoing countenance vanished, and a striking sternness that he had concealed until that moment, dominated his demeanor. “Your warnings have not fallen on deaf ears, and I assure you I do not take what either of you have told me lightly. I appreciate the concern both of you have shown me. However, I’m well aware of what happens to people entangled in magic or who pose a threat to those of considerable influence.”

The count placed his hand over his chest and nodded in gratitude. “Thank you, for telling me as much as you could despite… regulations. I apologize if I have ruffled your feathers, gentlemen. But this party… may be part of something far more nefarious.”

John knew that, it wasn’t a surprising conclusion, but what he was surprised and glad about was that he managed to get the Count to open up. Soon, the hostile countenance began to subside to a more compassionate and gentle responding bow in return.

“I lack evidence of any sort,” he stressed, “however… Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve been keeping track of the number of attendants each Varian guest brought along, and you are aware that I brought three with me from Erwynn. If any of them or I were to disappear…” He stared directly at Lord Ravenwood, “You’ll know that your fears were correct.” △△△ leaned in so that both could hear him whisper, “And that Black Rose may be involved.”

”If you insist on getting involved then, Count Hendrix. ” John replied. ”I will not stop you, but I hope you handle Leo and Charlotte well. The Lord for obvious reasons, but Charlotte…she’s a good girl. I don’t want the abyss to look at her in any shape or form.” Knowing the two of them, with their own separate wounds to heal from, and a concerning level of determination to any tasks, they may end up in serious trouble.

“I cannot promise that no harm will come to them.” Especially if something larger lurked in the shadows. “What I can promise is that I will be there for them so that they don’t have to face the abyss alone.” The three Varians exchanged a wordless pause until Dr. Williamson finally spoke, breaking the silence.

”And also, you can’t drop the name Black Rose like that and not give us any context.”

“I can’t?” △△△ shrugged in an exaggerated manner. “Well then, I suppose I have no choice.” His fingers beckoned the men to come closer.

[Helo]

Lord Leo Smithwood

Time: Morning
Location: Guesthouse to Edin’s Tea Party
Interactions:

The day started off normal enough; a cup of coffee, a simple breakfast, and the local newspaper was brought to his room. Nothing in his room seemed disturbed, no unnatural slickness to the floor or shoes, and no one summoning him to an early morning lecture. Today he could simply enjoy breakfast and coffee without interruption and all interactions could wait until the day had a proper start, as it should be.

The newspaper announced the day’s planned activities, it was abundantly clear where he wished to spend his time today. Any event that promised a dress code was sure to keep out the riff-raff after all. There was a childish drawing of Duke Lorenzo and he sincerely hoped Lottie had skipped reading the paper this morning. He checked the gossip collum, thankful not to see his own name mentioned there but groaned at seeing mention of Thea’s broken engagement.

Or at least he’d attempted to groan but the sound that actually left his mouth was an odd squeak.

“What the-” He stopped abruptly. That was not his voice, not even in the throws of puberty had his voice cracked at such a pitch. “What in Rothgar’s name?” His voice no longer cracked, it simply broke. Leo, much to his dismay, now sounded like he inhaled helium rather than normal air.

An impromptu visit with one of the palace’s doctors revealed nothing. No signs of infection or illness, all he got was an unconvincing, and frankly rude, assurance that it ‘would likely go away’ and that he ‘probably strained his voice from talking too much.’ Leo certainly didn’t appreciate the obvious look of amusement, and poorly masked chuckles, from the doctor as Leo’s squeaky voice explained the problem. Expecting anything helpful from a Caesonian physician was his mistake, this was after all a city where the science museum claimed Edin was some sort of divinely chosen demigod after all.

He changed into a linen summer suit nonetheless and tried to figure out how he’d get through a tea party without speaking. At least he had the small notebooks he’d bought yesterday to keep his notes in, Leo figured he could use those. As he looked over everything he’d written down about the secret party, he found himself erupting into unwanted, uncontrolled, shrill laughter.

“Gods-fucking-dammit.” He muttered as he stumbled into another unfortunate symptom. Nothing to be done about it now, he was just going to continue about his day and hope this really did fade with time. Today was going to be an absolute disaster but he would salvage what could from it. Once he got to the gardens, the normally soothing sounds of violins became an irritating reminder of his own now screechy voice.

Leo’s daily misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter. Who would do such a dastardly thing?

[Helo]

Evening Sola 21, 1739: Bob & Barry Part 1

Callum Danrose & △△△

---

Under the veil of nocturnal murmurs, a beast emerged surreptitiously from the shroud of shadows. With predatory grace, it closed the distance between itself and the body sprawled out on the squalid pavement. The beast fixated its vacant gaze upon the man drenched in the mélange of blood, whiskey, detritus, and misery. Claws touched the man’s face with haunting tenderness. From its lips, a whisper caressed the name of the poor soul. “George.”

When the prince’s eyelids fluttered, △△△ tried again, “Your Highness? Are you awake? How are you feeling?”

Callum struggled to open his eyes; everything felt so heavy. Someone was talking, and Cal tried to lift his head but that turned out to be a bad idea. He laid his head back down but it just kept on pounding. “Just sleepin’ it off.” Callum muttered, not entirely sure what the man had asked but it seemed like a good answer. Some of the fog in Callum’s head lifted, and he remembered that this was not a good place to sleep.

With a raspy groan and some very ungraceful movements, he rolled himself over onto his arms and tried to climb up off the ground. Callum stumbled backward and his back hit the side of a building so he just sat there. He put one elbow on his knees and rested his palm atop his head because his head felt like it was going to fall off and roll away. He gave the stranger a shaky thumbs up before placing that hand on his head too. “Who are you?” He asked, resting his eyes for a bit.

△△△ opened his mouth, took that first breath needed for speech, then sighed. This curse turned out to be far more inconvenient than he initially thought it would be. He was considering creating cards that have his name and title printed out so that he could hand them out as part of the introduction. A weak smile formed as he asked, “Would you remember if I told you in your current state?” Without hesitation, △△△ began assessing the prince’s injuries, cleaning the blood off with a handkerchief and apologizing whenever he winced, but not giving Prince Callum the option to refuse the examination. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Callum repeated the question while attempting to swat the stranger's hands away. The man who refused to give out his name was more persistent than Cal, who relented to being poked and prodded at fairly quickly. “Hmm. Ow. Dunno. Guess I can’t remember.” He half spoke, half mumbled an obtuse answer to the stranger. Callum was pretty sure he knew what the stranger was looking for, but as he felt around his pockets he discovered they were all empty. “All outta coin, sorry. Best find someone else.” He added, hoping that admission was enough to get the intrusive stranger to move along.

△△△’s brows stitched together. “You were mugged? We need to alert the authorities then. If your attackers are bold enough to attack a prince, it’s possible that they won’t hesitate to harm others. But… before that we should see that you receive proper medical attention.” He leaned in closer to confirm his assessment. “It seems like they didn’t cause any life-threatening damage, but seeing that you have trouble remembering, you might have a concussion. We can’t be too careful.” He circled to the prince’s least damaged side. “Forgive me for touching you, it’ll only be until we find someone who can properly tend to you, I promise.” △△△ carefully lifted the prince’s arm to put it around his shoulder, and noticed a dark red mark on his palm. The coloring of the skin around the wound and state of coagulation suggested that the cut was made recently, but not as recently as his other injuries. “Did they do this to you too?”

Callum didn’t offer much protest to being pulled up off the ground, more wincing and whining; it was the quickest way he was going to get up and moving again. There had been only a tired, heavy sigh at the use of prince, and again at the mention of alerting the authorities. Once off the ground, with one of his arms wrapped around the mysterious stranger shoulders, Callum moved to palce his other hand on the man’s cheek as his gave his best attempt at a stern look. What he actually did was slap the man in the ear as he spoke, “No authorities. No doctors. Not a mugging. I wanted this.” Callum pulled his hand away, tried to look at the cut on his other palm before losing interest in the injury barely hurt. “Musta been the broken glass.” He lied before letting his arm drop back down and looked around, finding it difficult to remember which direction to go.

△△△’s ear rang from the slap and he pouted slightly, but the expression lasted until he heard the words. “I wanted this.” He gave the man with George’s face a once over, taking in all the bruises, the smell of alcohol on his breath, and that look of “weakness” he did not want to—could not—show others. “I want this.” “You’re very strict on yourself.” He smiled ruefully, “So much so that I don’t think you’ll be satisfied with this… but I wonder if you’ll realize that this form of punishment will never truly ease your guilt or solve the real problem, Your Royal Highness. … Unless this was only meant to satisfy your other needs...”

“If it doesn’t work out, try something else.” Callum said, but the thought was incredibly tiring. “Thanks. I got it from here. You should go.” He added but didn’t pull himself away from the stranger. Callum just waited, this was the part where the stranger was supposed to tell him what he wanted. Very few people hung around him without wanting something, he just hoped the man wasn’t looking for some kind of reward for returning him too the palace.

“Should I?” △△△ tilted his head as if he was considering doing as the prince suggested, then flashed a mischievous smile. “Uhh… No. While I appreciate your concern for my safety, unfortunately for you, you’ve been caught by a person who has a hard time leaving injured people in the middle of a sketchy alley, unattended, at night. Royalty or not.

So my suggestion, random person who I shall refer to as Bob, is that you give up getting rid of me and help me take you to your destination… or I'll have no choice but to take you to the hospital or authorities, whichever is closest.”

Mysterious stranger, that I met in an alley, who knows too much about me, won’t give out his name, and wants to do me a favor. Callum slowly listed everything that made the stranger suspicious. But he was also helping and nice enough about it that he wasn’t bothered by how strange it sounded. Ask for chaos, get chaos. Seemed best to just go with it. “You’re odd. I like that. This way then, Barry. To a brothel.” Callum picked a direction and pointed, mostly sure that was the right way.

“Will you be able to pay for their services without money?”

“They know me. Being a prince, has a few perks.” There was really only one service Callum had any interest in tonight; drifting off in a smoke-filled back room. This was neither the first nor would be the last time he’d turned up with empty pockets looking for opium. He always settled his debts, people who knew him, knew that. It didn’t hurt that Callum never argued about prices either. He knew they asked for more than the opium was worth, he just didn’t care.

“What are you out looking for?” Cal asked and started walking, shakily, but he was at least going somewhere.

△△△ matched his pace with the prince, occasionally pausing to steady him whenever he was about to lose balance. “Trouble, most likely. Rumor has it that you have a knack of getting yourself into them quite often.” He pointed his finger at the prince. “Which is really the extent of how much I know about you. The rest is just guess work and experience.” His finger tapped near one of the bruises. “People who ‘want to get beaten up’ tend to be masochists, people who feel guilty for something, and or people who have something to prove. Since I don’t know you beyond stories, I don’t know if any of those apply to you, Bob.”

“Needed to make a point. This is a way to do it.” Callum offered a vague explanation but none of what the stranger had guessed at was all that far off either.

After a pause, △△△ apologized for the tangent. “I have a friend who attended Mr. Delronzo’s party yesterday and came back in a terrible condition. Unlike you, she was beaten so badly she actually can’t walk. When I asked what happened… she… She says she has no memories of what happened at the party.”

Callum groaned, not out of pain this time, but exasperation at the mention of last night’s party. “Mister who?” Cal said as if he didn’t know the name. The stranger was certainly not a friend, probably working with Wulfric, or Alibeth, which was pretty much the same thing.

△△△ combed his fingers through his hair. “Either she’s hesitant to tell me what happened to her, she was drugged, or something so traumatic happened that she blocked the memory… None of these possibilities are the least bit comforting.”

This time it was △△△’s turn to repeat the gesture Prince Callum did to him though he was far gentler with the ear slapping. “Bob, I know you were at the party. Please, tell me what happened there. Any information, even if you think it is insignificant will be helpful.”

“You’re good. Give ya that. All helpful, easy to talk to, but I grew up with snakes. Know what they look like.” Callum’s words were a sad mumble, while he had figured the stranger had his own motives, he hadn’t suspected he was in line with the rest of his family. A part of Wulfric’s stupid vendetta against Marek for throwing better parties than anyone in court.

“I can’t even tell you the last time I left a party with my memories. I was there, don’t remember anything. Musta been a good time.” Cal’s words weren’t far from the truth. “Everybody’s all upset about it. Everybody there wanted to go. Well everyone ‘cept Darryn. Only thing we did wrong. Asked for a ride there. Zarai’s always been wild. Some people like drinking, and drugs, and forgetting. Some people like fighting. Sometimes they lose. Got advice for you now, if you’re working with my family,” Callum paused and shook his head. “Bad idea. Worst of the snakes. All of us. Bad news. You, worry about you,” Callum bent his free hand, like making a shadow puppet, to look like a snake. His hand moved around the stranger, imitating the movements of a snake as he offered a warning. “Before they bite.” He finished before the hand snake moved to “bite” at the man’s nose.

△△△’s own hand snake hooked its fangs onto the other snake and tugged, causing Prince Callum to stumble closer. He bit the empty space in front of the prince’s nose. “I never said I wasn’t one. How can you survive a den full of them without becoming one yourself or at least be convincing enough of a snake not to get bitten by a real one?”

Admittedly, it was too late. △△△△△△△△ had been bitten long ago, swallowed whole, waiting to be digested—their bodies giving strength to those who stole everything from them. They just stubbornly refused to go quietly into the night; they would fight, kicking and screaming until their last breath was spent. “Not everyone can have the same protection that you get, Bob. Regardless of your feelings.”

△△△ studied Prince Callum. “It seems like you’ve already decided where my allegiances are, but don’t worry, your parents prefer me and mine eradicated so the odds of me working for them to do their dirty work are extremely low.”

Callum let out a soft chuckle as the man returned the snake gesture, but it never became a real laugh, everything just hurt too much for that. “Be a mongoose,” Callum suggested. “They fight snakes real good.” He whispered it like it was a secret. But he understood; it was easier to be a snake and he was not a mongoose either.

With a gesture that almost seemed friendly, Cal used the increased closeness to lightly pat the man's side. He was checking for a flask, anyone walking around Sorian looking for trouble had to have something to take the edge off.

Amusement danced in △△△’s eyes as he allowed the body search. There was no immediate cause for alarm, no hidden object of value concealed upon his person. A spontaneous chuckle escaped him, “My, my, my! Bob Bobby Bobberson, were you pretending to be mugged so that you could pickpocket me or are you trying to seduce me?” △△△ playfully raised an eyebrow, “All you had to do was ask…”

“Seduce you? You can’t keep your hands off me, handsome stranger.” Callum replied with a disappointed look at having found nothing in his search. “Got anything to drink on you?” He paused, realizing something before adding, “You said, parents. What about Wulfy, you work for my brother?”

△△△’s expression shifted, a pensive gaze replaced his mirth. Of all the royal children, he harbored the most uncertainty towards the heir apparent. “That would depend entirely on how much he’ll follow his forebears’ footsteps, what kind of country he intends to create… and at what cost.”

“Well, dunno your allegiances. Don't even know your name. But everyone's got secrets. Either way, hope you get to see the end of Danroses.” Cal didn’t say anything more about Wulfric despite having a strong opinion on what sort of king his brother would make.

Studying Prince Callum’s face intently, △△△ tried to conjure the image of King George uttering the last sentence and found his mind straining against the boundaries of possibility, for it seemed unfathomable. In a hushed and guarded tone, barely audible to the air, he softly breathed △△△△△△△△s’ mantra. “Noblesse oblige.” It was the closest thing to a name he could give regardless of the curse. If the prince responded to the oath, then he knew. If he did not, then it proved how much of a close kept secret △△△△△△△△ were. Was it passed down with the crown or did it die with their progenitor? Did the queen even know?

Callum offered only a blank expression as the man whispered something into the air.

[JJ Doe]

Evening Sola 21, 1739: Bob & Barry Part 2

Callum Danrose & △△△

---

When △△△ and the self-proclaimed snake detector made eye contact, he posed the question, “But you know Mr. Delronzo’s allegiances?” He tilted his head. “Do you think Mr. Delronzo isn’t working for or with one or more of the Danroses?”

“Dunno anyone’s allegiance. Not really. Why you really asking about this Mr. Del-fonzi? He ever do anything to you?” Cal asked, but he wasn’t going to betray Marek, he didn’t know or care to know Marek’s loyalties. Cal liked the parties, he liked forgetting, and he felt welcomed there. “You think the worst thing going on in Sorian is secret parties?” He asked, shaking his head and trying to keep from making too much eye contact with the man. He didn’t like these questions, didn’t like how focused the other man got when he was asking them, and he especially didn’t like feeling like he was being studied. “Or just mad you didn’t get invited.”

His eyes softened at the prince’s attempt to protect his safe place, if not his “friend,” from △△△, but also from himself by turning a blind eye to questions he was too scared to hear the answers to. “Oh Bob, I really wish that was the case… but no. I’m not mad, I’m terrified,” he admitted, “If Black Rose is involved in… some very shady, very dangerous activities… I,” His throat and grip on Prince Callum tightened, “I fear I sent Udo to his death.” A raindrop trailed down his cheek. He lifted his gaze, only to discover a night sky barren of rain clouds. △△△ sucked in the air through his teeth, hoping it would clear his mind as it did the sky.

Though Cal didn’t understand what the man was talking about, or who Udo was; the signs of grief and guilt were familiar enough. “Hope your friend’s alright.” He patted the man’s shoulder, who simply nodded.

“I can tell how much you like this party that you can’t remember…” The next part was based purely on a hunch. “No, maybe it’s because it always makes you forget, without fail, that Mr. Delronzo’s parties are so appealing to you. It unburdens you, makes you empty. It’s your safe haven and anyone who questions it is a threat to that comfort. So you become defensive. That, I can understand.

But you do realize what the real problem is, right? It’s not the party itself. The real problem is that anything—kidnapping, theft, assault, torture, rape, murder, you name it—absolutely anything could’ve happened during the party… and no one would be none the wiser. Because conveniently, everyone loses their memories. As if the amnesia is induced on purpose.”

“Those not born protected, maybe gotta make their own protection. Maybe it’s not anything bad, just, self-preservation. Been to a lot of forgotten parties, always been fine.” Callum had his own guesses about the memory loss, he could see why it might be necessary. A few hours of escape and the price was only some lost memories; it didn’t seem a bad trade either. He knew how it all sounded, knew he couldn’t really make it sound any other way but selfish. Even if Marek was dangerous, he’d been kind to Cal and made him feel welcomed somewhere. Marek had never let him down because he didn’t remember most of their encounters. It made it very easy for Cal to stay loyal.

“So even if all that happened during the party, you think that’s perfectly acceptable? As long as you get to enjoy yourself and it’s happening to someone you don't know?” △△△ knew that people did what they had to do for survival and he could never truly hold that against them, but if Black Rose was providing torture, rape, or murder as a form of entertainment… that was an entirely different story.

“Been to a lot of forgotten parties, always been fine.” So, the prince did go to more than one of these parties. His lack of shock at the possibility that the host intentionally caused amnesia in the attendees was also very telling.

“Are you absolutely sure about that? You just said you have no memory of what happened during the party.”

“Think I would’ve noticed if I had been kidnapped, raped, tortured, or murdered. Even without memories.” Callum pointed out in a tone that made it clear he found it ridiculous to think such things were happening at Marek’s parties. “You assume the worst. It’s alight, I do that a lot too.”

“Can you say the same for the other partygoers? Not just the friends you invited, but everyone who went to that party. How do you know if none of those things happened to the other people when you have no memories? It also doesn’t rule out that something had been done to you during that time either.” Prince Callum’s loyalty to Mr. Delronzo was so blind that it bordered on fanatical. △△△ had to question whether it was genuine or if it was magically induced like the amnesia.

“Bad things happen here all the time. Party or no party. Can’t just betray someone on a maybe. Alibeth had our carriage driver beaten, almost executed. What do you think they’ll do, with someone to pin the whole thing on? Can’t let that happen to a friend. Won’t bring anyone next time, if that makes you feel better. I’ll try and keep Zarai out of it.” He offered.

Finally, the prince let it slip that he knew the host, one he regarded as a friend—even with the lack of memory. It made △△△ wonder if their encounters went beyond the secret Black Rose parties.

“Tell me, Bob. How often do powerful and wealthy people actually face severe retribution for a crime, real or fake, in Caesonia?” △△△ paused in case Prince Callum had an answer to the rhetorical question. They both knew that it was not nearly as often in comparison to the common folk. Caesonia law heavily favored the higher echelons of society, which included successful merchants.

“How much do you think wealth buys, when the crown has you marked as an enemy?” Cal returned the question with his own. “Maybe time. My house always wins. When they want retribution, they get it. I’d like to see them lose.” The other man was right about one thing, Marek had some power, power Callum didn’t fully understand or know the extent of, but it was there. If it could rival Danrose power, it was worth the risk to bet on it.

“A lot more than you think.” Much more than he could ever imagine. “You think someone who can host a party of that caliber, with that wide range of guests, likely uses magic, doesn’t have the knowledge or resources to protect himself?” He emphasized the word magic to gauge the other man’s reaction as he tried to ignore Udo’s prophetic dream. The island warrior had been marked, but how? If those men were under Mr. Delronzo’s employment, and there were no witnesses, the most plausible explanation involved magic.

“More than that, what makes you so sure he isn’t working with any member of your family? King Edin, for example.”

At the mention of the word, Callum stumbled and briefly became nothing but dead weight draped across the other man’s shoulders. “Shhh, that’s a dangerous word.” He whispered, placing a finger to his lips, as he struggled to get his footing back.

The supporting hand resting on Prince Callum’s back reflexively wrapped around his waist. △△△’s fingers gripped the fabric of the prince’s shirt, preventing any further descent. He remained motionless, watching the man try to stand up properly.

Callum was a Danrose, a name steeped in a history of enmity and bloodshed. △△△ tried imaging Edin, George, or Julian, in his arm, but could not. There was only Callum, as an individual and not a mere representative of his lineage. Yet, at the same time, △△△ could not dismiss the unmistakable resemblances, which went beyond physical appearances.

The prince’s reaction to the taboo word suggested that he acknowledged the existence of magic or, at the very least, it showed his understanding of the gravity with which the Caesonian crown regarded such matters. Surprisingly, though, Prince Callum displayed no signs of heightened caution or mistrust towards △△△, unlike the overt wariness demonstrated by Dr. Williamson or Miss Delilah when the topic of magic arose.

On the contrary, he showed concern.

“I hope anyone my family goes after finds means for protection in spades, Mr. Mysterious. You, your family, our party thrower, and anyone else. The enemy of my enemy is a friend.” Callum made the last statement with full confidence and with a troubled grin. He didn’t know why the man seemed so convinced Marek worked for Edin or anyone other Danrose.

The enemy of an enemy is a friend. △△△ smiled. He wondered if the prince was trying to tell him that people like him and Mr. Delronzo were not snakes, but mongooses. Little did he know that some snakes devoured other snakes. “Barry. You named me Barry, Bob.” △△△ paused. Mr. Berry Mysterious… Mr. Very Mysterious. “Unless it was set up for a pun all along?”

“Edin, Alibeth, Wulfric, none of them seemed happy about these parties this morning. Would be quite the twist if they were in on it, And Edin, oh if this was an Edin plot, he’d have had the perfect chance to get rid of me, all stealthy too, don’t think he’d pass that up.”

Prince Callum did not hide his disdain for the Danrose bloodline, including himself, but △△△ got the feeling that it centered strongly around specific members of the family. The prince had brought up Queen Alibeth and Prince Wulfric on his own volition. So △△△ brought up King Edin’s name to confirm that his disdain towards his parents were not limited to just his mother. It was not. Arguably, it was much stronger. Perhaps it was even the epicenter of his hatred for the bloodline.

That did not, however, eliminate the possibility that King Edin—or any of the Danroses for that matter—utilized Black Rose in some capacity. Especially with the king’s proclivity for decadence and the family’s need to make inconveniences vanish.

“He doesn’t seem like the type to need a valid reason to get rid of you. He’ll get rid of you when he needs to.” △△△’s hand reached up to toward Prince Callum’s, King George’s, face. “Maybe there’s a part of him that still cares for ‘you’ in his own broken way.” His hand lowered before he touched anything. “Or maybe he’s trying to prove ‘you’ wrong.” He would never know for sure.

“He could. Anyday, anytime, no more Callum. If you stop seeing me around, maybe I hit the right button.” He tried to say it as if it didn’t bother him, like he’d never spent hours laying awake thinking about it. “Edin cares about Edin. No one else, Not really.” He didn’t understand what the man had meant by his last statement, and couldn’t think of anything Edin would try and prove him wrong about. He didn’t care to ask either, he didn’t want to understand Edin.

Realizing how close they were to each other, △△△ chuckled. “You know what? I think you were right, it really does seem like I can’t keep my hands off you. You’re too irresistible.” He reclaimed his previous position before resuming their walk.

“If I haven’t ruined my chances entirely yet, I’d like to hang out with you again. Next time I’ll be sure I bring some booze.”

Callum snorted at that. “Sounds like you have bad taste. But if you want trouble, I’m sure you can find me. Don’t have to bring anything, I kinda like you, Barry.” He said, fake Barry wasn’t so bad, and other than the name, didn’t seem all that fake either. “Barry the Mysterious. Oh, I get it. Barry Mysterious. I’m not that clever.” He admitted.

“For now, a word of advice, as an enemy of an enemy…” He moved his mouth closer to the prince’s ear, “You don’t need me to tell you this, but forgetting your problems won’t actually solve them. If you truly want to punish yourself, Bob. You must carry the burden. Forgetting so that you can feel better… kind of defeats the purpose of punishing yourself, don’t you think? It also happens to be what Danroses do best. Forget. Make others forget.” He pulled away a bit to give Prince Callum a soft smile. “I hope all of you choose a different path than your forebears.”

“Lot of burden to carry, sometimes I set it down, so it doesn’t crush me. Always pick it back up. Just don’t know what else to do with it.” Callum spoke quietly and it was close enough to the truth. He shrugged himself off the other man and took a couple of unsteady steps away.

But Barry who was probably not called Barry was right. It wasn’t good punishment if he still got anything that made him feel better. It was also too late to change tonight’s plans anyway; he was practically at his destination, where else was he going to go? Not home, not yet. One more time, a little self-indulgence, he could do better tomorrow. That seemed like a good plan. “Thanks for your help, owe you one.”

“Any time, Bob. See you later.”

△△△ raised his arm and stretched his fingers out in a gesture of farewell to Callum until he vanished beyond the threshold of the brothel’s entrance. His smile dimmed like the retreating lights that spilled onto the desolate streets, as the weighty door slammed shut. As the stillness settled around him, △△△ reached into the depths of his coat, hands brushed against the touch of the bloodstained handkerchief. The blood of a Danrose.

---

The atmosphere inside the brothel hung heavy with a potent blend of smoke and perfume, barely concealing the desires pursued by its clientele. The promise of various pleasures, attainable at a cost, lured lost souls seeking temporary respite. Amidst the decadence and debauchery, few heads turned when the entrance door creaked open, too accustomed to the peculiarities of the establishment’s visitors; too lost in their own intoxicating indulgences.

Cutting through the haze, a figure navigated its way to the madam, who greeted it with the same warmth as any other potential patron. The beast’s lips parted, revealing a gleaming set of teeth that shimmered like the coins that spilled from its hands, cascading onto the table with musical clinks. “Can we talk business?”

[Helo]

Callum

Time: Sola 21st Late Night
Location: The Slums - A house of ill repute

TLDR; Callum has a bunch of weird nightmares and then gets tossed out of an opium den/brothel establishment.

A non-necessary post/read.

Angry Chair - Alice in Chains

The backroom was dimly lit by lanterns and candles that softly flickering. Hazy, sweet-scented, smoke filled the air, mixing with a variety of rancid scents that tainted the stale air; fresh vomit, old piss, thick sweat. The bodies of those who indulged lay sprawled out on the floor of a tightly packed backroom. Pain and sorrow were exhaled in soft murmurs and loud moans as faces twisted into expressions of peace and bliss.

Cal, who was firmly not going to be Prince Callum Danrose anymore, made exceptions when it benefited him. His ideals hide behind the shadows of his desires. Callum, who had no money, looked like he’d crawled out of a gutter, covered in blood and fresh bruises, was not someone anyone wanted to spot a bit of opium. Most addicts knew better than to trust other addicts when they promised to pay you back tomorrow. But the prince was persistent; if his name earned him entrance, it would also be just enough to get him what he wanted. It had worked before, it would work again.

It was a long night spent begging, pleading, and groveling, for anyone to spot him for the night.

He had to not only wait for someone who sort of knew him, but someone he knew not well enough that he’d already pissed them off one way or another. His savior finally appeared in the form of Ralph, a local drunkard, an unclaimed bastard of a minor noble family, whose long years of addiction had begun to rot him from the inside out. Dirty fingers scratched at open sores and his yellowed eyes stared off into the distance, only a fading glimmer of awareness; Ralph was more like a ghost than a person these days.

“Ralphie.” Callum crooned and wrapped an unwanted arm around the grizzled man’s shoulders. “You know me right? It’s Callum, Prince Callum, you know, like the tavern.”

“Cal-lum?” Ralph repeated the name slowly.

“Yeah, yeah just like the tavern, got my name on the sign and everything. We’ve drank together, you know me.”

“Oh. I know you.” Ralph nodded along.

“Yeah, Callum. Your friend, Prince Callum, we should smoke together.” He offered, and Ralph nodded through his confusion.

“I’m friends with a prince?” Ralph asked, pointing at himself, struggling with his memories.

“Best friends,” Callum added, and at that moment he meant it. “But I’ve got nothing right now, so next time, I’ll get you back, alright?” Cal nodded nervously but Ralph did not. Ralph seemed to be thinking the offer over so Callum sweetened the deal. “And, and, I’ll cover your tab at the tavern, whole month. Good deal right? You know I’m good for it.”

Finally, Callum convinced someone to take him up on his offer.

It wasn’t long before he too lay upon the rarely cleaned floor across from a bleak premonition in the form of empty yellowed eyes and a face too tired to care, both men dimly lit by the light of a lantern. Floral smoke filled his lungs and took the sting away from his wounds. A beautiful warmth spread through him, everything lightened and relaxed. All things that hurt melted away as he sank deep into an impossibly soft floor wooden floor, a puddle of bliss.

Puffs of smoke sunk Cal into the abyss. Heavy eyelids closed and dreams came more vividly than ever before.

Cal soon felt lost, floating in an infinite void. No light. No hope. Nothing but the void. He felt the hollowness without and within.

“When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you.”

As Cal fell into the abyss, it indeed looked back into him. It saw all things he didn’t want to see. It forced him to gaze.

His eyes opened and closed so slowly, and dreams came so suddenly, it became difficult to recognize the difference between reality and dreams. Any distinction between the two hardly mattered.

Cal heard a voice in the void, almost familiar but distorted, a haunting sound barely heard like a whisper carried on a breeze. It sent cold shivers through him.

Afraid to go home? To see monsters in the dark. You can barely face them in the light. Just give up, accept what you are. Selfish, like your father. Cruel, like your mother. Stupid, but that one’s all you.

Stupid little plans, that get people hurt. But it doesn’t matter, if you get what you want. You’d cause less trouble if you just went off to die in the gutter.

Lost in another alleyway. Somehow this one looked worse. Everything was coated in a dingy light and grimy fog, he couldn’t tell if it was day or night. He couldn’t even see the sky. But he could see the bottle in his hand, almost slipping through his fingers.

Even in a dream, he wanted to bring that bottle to his lips but he had no control here. A passenger. A voyeur. He could see his own yellowing skin and caught sight of the reddened tip of his drippy nose, as he walked, stumbled about, with no direction. His hand finally moved but not to bring that bottle to his lips. Finger scratched at open sores, the sound somehow so loud it was deafening. Then he was stumbling. Falling. He looked up at a sky that couldn’t be seen through a grimy fog.

Now his body saw fit to provide the satisfying sting of liquid courage. The bottle at his lips…

Choking. Couldn’t breathe. The booze taste like bile, fighting, clawing, its back way out. Violent coughing until out from his throat flew a fly. He could feel his insides rotting, he felt more flies knocking around in his stomach, crawling, buzzing, but unable to escape. The one that had escaped crawled across his face; there was no desire to swat it away. He thought he could hear the fly chewing as he felt the ground shoving at his back.

Shoving?

His eyes briefly opened, and he stared up at the ceiling. There was Ralph, patting his back and shoving him back onto his side. He saw a fly buzzing around the soft light of the lantern.

“Gonna choke if you sleep like that,” Ralph warned, and his broken smile held the same warm light that flickered from the lantern.

Callum, half asleep, nodded and used his sleeve to wipe bile from his mouth. “You’re a good friend, Ralphie.”

“Best friend.” Ralph briefly reminded him.

“Very best.” Callum agreed as heavy eyes closed again.

Friend? Who’d be friends with you? No one if you had nothing. Drunks if you buy them a drink. You’d be friends with anyone who’d buy you a drink and let you forget.

Even your own family doesn’t want you. “Ah look at my beautiful blonde-haired sons. Sons I’ve created.” It spoke in Edin’s voice for a moment. Not you though, not a son, only a blight. Why do you think you’re always so alone?

Callum wandered through a hallway in the palace. Here everything was too bright, overexposed, and nearly blinding. Even though it looked like every other hallway in the palace it was unfamiliar. The unwelcoming feeling of the hallway, however, felt exactly like his home. He opened a door and walked into Wulfrics office. He laid down across a couch and argued with his brother. Familiar words left his mouth. He stormed out. He tried another door and walked through the tavern. He argued with Anastasia. He looked into familiar hurt eyes. He left again and tried another door. Behind every door was a fight he’d started. It felt like an eternity.

He walked through a door and felt small. Edin was there too, like a great tall beast, shouting at him for ruining dinner. He was crying but he knew he didn’t do that in front of Edin anymore. Not like he did when he was a child.

“What’s wrong with you?” Edin’s face contorted, and his mouth opened into a maw that resembled a lamprey. Edin’s neck stretched and moved like a snake, slithering the maw of jagged, wicked, teeth closer and closer. The Edin-like creature hissed familiar insults as flies flew from the maw with each familiar word.

Raw primal fear kept Cal frozen in place. He was drenched in a cold sweat as his eyes looked from the bulging eyes of his father to the hundreds of flies that now landed on his skin. They burrowed into him, his skin giving no resistance. Callum felt the buzzing in his veins, in his gut, and inside his head. “What’s wrong with you?” The Edin creature shouted again as the maw snapped forward ready to devour.

“What’s wrong with him?” A different voice asked as cold water splashed across his face.

“You’re causing trouble.” A quiet, stern voice spoke.

He shot up in a cold panic. Drenched in sweat that mingled with cold water and the dried blood on his face from earlier. One eye wide with panic, the other too swollen to open fully. It took him a moment to realize he was screaming. He looked around for his friend but Ralph was now gone.

“You can’t stay here. Out.”

“Wh-” Too hard to stay awake. Sleep called again. Or maybe it Orbitus. The abyss cradled him once more.

Rotten fruit, rotten tree, rotting away. Drawing in flies, that's what you're good for.

Callum sat in front of a massive dark tree with twisting branches. Gnarled and twisted bits of bark wore the faces of regal ancestors. Their mouths all hung open, spewing forth a constant shrieking of their various crimes. He opened his mouth to scream for them to stop, his hands desperately pressed against his ears. No words came out, only a swarm of flies left his mouth. Thousands of flies poured from his mouth covering much of the tree but none of the faces. So many pairs of eyes bore down on him, judging him as the flies gnawed on the tree. He could hear rotten bark crunching inside thousands of tiny mouths. But their screaming stopped, voices barely heard over the buzzing of flies then spoke to him.

“This is one of ours?” A disappointed voice asked.

“Look at him, that’s a liar's face if I ever saw one. Certainly one of us.” A proud voice answered.

“He almost looks like George.”

“I don’t see it. Looks weak.”

“Got more of a coward’s face if you ask me.”

“Look closer, he’s got rage rotting away at him.” The eyes all looked to stare at him, fixated on something below his face.

Cal looked down following their gaze. He saw the rot. An opened cavity that was his abdomen, shattered ribs like fingers curled against the edges. The skin around the void in him was rotting and necrotic, a collage of muddied greens, grays, and black. But not nearly as dark as the void. No heart, no guts, no liver. Empty, barren, and continuing to pour out and spread to the rest of him. Consuming him.

He reached his hand inside and it brushed nothing but felt like ice water. He reached further, tried to touch where his spine should be and his arm kept reaching. His back curled forward until his forehead was nearly on the ground, still only feeling the emptiness. Until he fell forwards into the void and was pulled upright.

Until he stood on nothing and the floating stopped.

Everything hurt again.

A pair of cinnabar-colored stars shone in the void. They looked at him with such immense judgment that he fell to his knees. He felt his heart pounding against his chest. It was a struggle to breathe. The stars shone brighter and brighter until not only did his eyes sting but he could see that the stars were also eyes. Eyes that lit up a golden scowling face that looked like a mask with pair of horn-like appendages that almost formed a crown. Draped in shadows, He watched.

“Mighty Claro.” Cal addressed the vision and understood what was happening. He had asked for chaos on this night, and his night had not ended in an alleyway. Chaos had followed him, even invading his dreams.

The scowl became a smile that also might have been a snarl and disappeared in only a second as the golden mouth parted as if He were about to speak. Only flies poured out.

Flies swarmed into a humanoid shape and began walking toward him until the sound of it become deafening. Callum closed his eyes and tried to remember this wasn’t real. He covered his ears until the cacophony of buzzing stopped. He opened his eyes and stared back at himself. The flies were gone. It was just him, in the darkness, looking back at a mirrored image of himself.

“Like what you see?” The other Callum asked. With eyes locked all Cal could see in eyes that matched his own, were all those things within himself he hated. So Cal closed his eyes, shook his head, and hoped this disappeared too.

When his eyes opened again he found himself again lying on the street just outside the brothel. A single fly buzzed around his ear before eventually leaving him alone.

Time: Sola 21st Late Night
Location: The Slums - Another Alleyway
Interactions: Stratya @CitrusArms

Discarded like the rest of the refuse that littered the streets, Callum again stood on shaky legs and wandered. He didn’t know where else to go, only that he didn’t want to go home. Anywhere else was better. He checked through his pockets as if he might have a flask he’d forgotten about. Nothing. Only disappointment and his mouth was dry and his throat hurt like he’d been screaming all night. He realized he’d probably been kicked out for screaming in his sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Cal found himself sinking to the ground in another alleyway, or maybe it was the same one as before, he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter either, the alleyway seemed a welcoming place to sleep until morning because at the very least it was far from home. He laid back down, rested his head on one arm, and covered his face with the other. The night’s air was cool enough that he shivered in clothes soaked with cold water and sweat, and it kept him from falling deep into sleep. Maybe enough so to keep the nightmares at bay.

"Here ya are, aye?" A new voice only added to his confusion.

Barry? He wondered if that guy just lurked around alleys all night. He then questioned whether that had all been a dream too.

"Alright, lad, let's up and away. Can ya walk, are ya awake?"

“Just resting. Fine here.” He moved his arm and looked up to see who was speaking to him. There was a hint of recognition but he couldn’t quite remember. “Do I kn-” Then he realized why he recognized her. “Oh fuck.” He mumbled once he recognized the face of the high-ranking knight.

[SilverPaw]

Leo & Wulfric
1st part of skip day collab

Date: Sola 22nd
Time: Late afternoon

---

---

Earlier today, Lord Leo had sent him an invitation for an outing in the late afternoon, which Wulfric had responded to with an affirmative. He had wanted to meet with the man regardless, as they had only spoken to each other at the ball, and even then, very briefly. The Varian lord had suggested a companionable horse ride, a notion the prince was rather looking forward to. Any discussions could wait until after that. Especially after the hours spent with paperwork, organizing the investigation team, and planning for its approach, he was quite ready for a breath of fresh air. Both literally and figuratively. After so much sitting, standing, and pacing, he was in dire need of exercise. The hour or so he’d got in in the morning felt unreasonably long ago.

They’d arranged to meet at the stables south of the athletic arena. As for Wulfric, he’d arrived on horseback from the castle; they did have a smaller stable for personal use there. His steed was a gorgeous black Andalusian named Antioch, also called Tio. They’d traversed the short distance at an intermediate walk. There was quite some traffic at this time of the day, with various eateries, cafés, and tea houses beginning to fill out as people went out to enjoy early dinner. The food stalls were also the choice for many; despite their popularity, the prince personally did not see the appeal of such snacks.

Despite the moderate crowding, the way was made for him without any indication from the prince whatsoever. Admittedly, this was pleasing. Where appropriate, Wulfric offered a curt nod, or even casually raised his hand in greeting. Instead of bothering with guards, he was simply armed himself, and he was certain that did not go unnoticed either. Aside from his status, it was a good deterrent and warning to any fools.

When he caught sight of the Varian lord, Wulfric greeted him with a warmly polite tone. “Lord Leo,” he gave a respectful nod. “Thank you for your invitation.”

A not-so-distant whistle resounded, announcing the arrival of a train at the station. “Say…” Wulfric turned to his companion with a glimmer of challenge in his gaze. “How about a race? Let’s catch up to that train before it departs. Then whoever’s first to the outer boundary of the city wins?” he suggested.

“Prince Wulfric,” A respectful nod of his head as he directed his horse towards the other man. “Far too nice a day to be spent cooped up. Thank you for accepting.” His eyes lit up at Wulfric’s suggestion. He glanced at the train pulling in, the ears atop the chestnut horse’s head twitched toward the sound but showed little concern for it.

“A challenge? Accepted of course.” He patted Menace on the shoulder, “Think you can outrun a train?” He asked the horse who only snorted. Leo didn’t think the train would be much of a problem, the prince’s horse, however, looked like a fast one.

Menace was, at least in Leo’s mind, a good horse. Well-muscled and an ideal hunting companion; not easily spooked, confident enough to chase down nimble prey, and strong enough to carry said prey back. While Leo would simply describe Menace as fiercely loyal, anyone else who had dealt with the creature found Menace to be a fitting name.

The young lord took a deep breath as he lined up himself and Menace with Wulfric and his horse, waiting for the race to begin. “You know, I watched a similar-looking horse almost win a race the other day.” He added, it wasn’t true competition without a little taunting.

“I’ve definitely spent too much of today cooped up already,” he commented in agreement with Leo’s remark. He smirked at the man’s show of interest in the issued challenge, and glanced at his horse. It seemed like it’d make for decent competition to his.

He chuckled dryly at the barb. “Oh, you just keep on watching. You’ll be left in the dust,” he quipped back. Wulfric then raised a hand, and gave them the starting signal. “See you whenever you get there,” he called cheekily as he spurred on his horse.

Antioch was exceptionally trained, and they’d rode together so often, guiding him felt quite intuitive, with rider and steed both accustomed to each other’s tells. The horse worked up to a canter in no time as Wulfric led him onto a less-used path behind the education buildings. They sped along the forested path. There were some youths there, though they scattered to the side at their approach. They watched in clear fascination, and started to cheer - whether because they realized an impromptu race was occurring, or merely because it was him passing.

As they closed in on the intersection with the road to the west, the prince peered through the treeline carefully. With some calculated maneuvering, they managed to cross the more populated route safely even at their high speed. At his guidance, Tio skillfully weaved in between the buildings as well. A few hoofbeats later, and they freed themselves of those last few trees, emerging right by the railway. An easy powerful jump landed them on the other side of the tracks. Now, with no other obstacles in the way, Antioch could freely gallop.

The duo sped on the low-grassed area by the tracks. The train was still for now, but with the last passengers getting on, it would start up soon. The challenge was not to be overtaken either by machine or man. Wulfric kept entirely focused on the path ahead as they approached the train station.

The whistle resounded once again, signaling the train’s departure. It was easy enough to overtake it - for now. The mechanical noise drowned out all other sound, but the prince’s steed merely flicked its ears back in annoyance, otherwise not bothered. “Come on,” Wulfric urged him on. That train would accelerate, and inevitably, it would be able to overtake him eventually. It was just a matter of getting to the designated goal faster than either it or their rival Leo.

Prince Wulfric gave the signal, and with a shout and a snap of the reins, Leo and Menace were off. Everything else faded. There was Leo, his horse, and the path ahead, the rest was just background noise. Hooves smacked against the ground, the wind blew against his skin. Slight adjustments to the reigns directed Menace who matched Leo’s focus. Wulfric knew the terrain better and split off onto a side street just off the main road. By the time Leo noticed it was too late to follow.

So straight down the much busier Victorian avenue, he rode. The busier street slowed him down even as Menace avoided obstacles before Leo even needed to give direction. Chasing deer in the woods was not too different from this. Swerving around pedestrians who stood like confused trees, not quite bright enough to simply move out of the way. Behind him, an agitated cart pusher shouted about wares spilled into the street as a result of the disruption. It was barely audible over the sound of the train whistle which took precedence. When one enters a contest, even a friendly one, with a man like Wulfric, anything less than best efforts would be an insult.

Menace galloped forward, nearing the trees that aided in blocking the sounds of trains for the townspeople. Pounding hooves gave way to a moment of silence as the horse leapt across the train tracks. Wulfric and Antioch were already on the other side, galloping ahead with an impressive lead.

The two horses continued to gallop ahead of the train as it started to move. Antioch maintained a solid lead, a clear advantage had been earned by the man who chose the wiser path. Menace fought hard to close the lead, and while the chestnut steed did not tire easily, he could not outpace the swifter horse. Leo was not losing to a train, he kept his form aligned with the horse. His shouts were barely heard over the train whistle that encouraged the steed to move faster as the finish line was in sight.

The train chugged behind both riders, gradually beginning to accelerate. It was right on their tailends, and even with the advantage of their initial speed and the distance already gained it was slowly but surely catching up. It was a short distance behind them, just on their tail-end.

However, the goal was right there!

With the gained lead, Wulfric and his steed breezed past the city’s walls. There was no one in front of them, which meant–

Yes!

The surge of exhilaration prompted him to continue, just to see how long they could hold against the train. But the machine was tireless, limited only by the fuel available and its design - and the latter proved beyond doubt that it was man’s inventive ingenuity which prevailed against any animal. In the next few meters, it accelerated past what any horse could possibly ever hope to achieve.

It clattered past them, the noise overwhelming for a moment, steam billowing above it as reverberations could be felt in one’s bones. As it passed them by, Wulfric had the momentarily insane idea of jumping onto the train for some reason. Smiling at the ridiculous whimsy, he commanded Antioch to slow down.

Mount and rider watched for a moment as the machine continued onwards, growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared beyond the horizon.

Then, the prince motioned for Tio to turn around, and the duo slowly approached their competitors. “Well, that was fun.” Despite the entirely casual statement, there was a clear wildness in his gaze. A sign of his thrill, and the unquenched desire for more. But the prince’s posture was so thoroughly relaxed and languid, it truly was questionable if he was simply unaware of it, or ignoring it.

As Wulfric continued past the finish line, Leo followed close behind him, until the train pulled ahead and continued out of the city. He watched the screaming hunk of metal barrel through the forest, impressive in its speed, obnoxious in its sound. He relaxed back into the saddle and Menace slowed his pace as they caught up to Wulfric. He offered Menace some congratulatory pats for having bested the train.

Leo took a deep breath and savored the air as Menace began to walk at a leisurely pace. “Far better way to travel, fresh air, proper appreciation for the scenery, and an active role.” When riding a horse, or even in a carriage, the rider had a measure of control over the journey. “A sorry day, when men lose appreciation for the journey and simply sit and wait for it to end.” He added.

“I can’t think of a more enjoyable way to travel than riding,” Wulfric agreed, stroking Tio’s neck appreciatively. “But if speed is of the essence, then a train is the better choice. Though, it does seem a matter of convenience and comfort for most,” he commented.

“That was a good showing, Lord Leo,” he then complimented. Because despite his home advantage, Leo and Menace had done well. “We should do this again sometime,” he suggested.

“A clever victory.” Leo complimented Wulfric’s careful navigation. “And a stunning horse.” He added, admiring the creature for a moment. A striking image the other horse and rider made, the fair-haired prince and midnight-coated steed. “I’d never turn down a challenge.”

“Thank you,” he smirked, allowing the other man to admire him and his trusty steed. “And I shall be looking forward to that.”

[Helo]

Leo & Wulfric
2nd part

Date: Sola 22nd
Time: Late afternoon

---

---

Wulfric led Antioch back the way they came. Gradually, he, Leo, and their steeds moved towards the north-west, onto a path through the forest. It was a leisurely ride now, as peaceful as it was private. “How have you been?” the prince queried.

“Not facing too many difficulties due to being drugged the other night, I hope?” he questioned curiously. It seemed that those who’d attended had faced the worst of it during and immediately after the event. But he’d also been to preoccupied with his siblings’ wellbeing to pay much attention to anyone else’s.

“Occasional headaches and wounded pride seem to be the only lasting effects. I’ll admit I’m a bit embarrassed to have stumbled into a scandal so quickly, but it’d be a lie to say I regret it. A new mystery curbs the appetite to continue to obsess over one that has regrettably turned cold.” The case of his missing father had no new leads to follow up on and every old clue had been picked apart until it too meant nothing. Last night’s mystery however was proving to be an exciting distraction.

Wulfric tilted his head at that. It was indeed a scandal, though caused to them all by someone else. He was also aware of Leo’s missing father, and the lord’s desire to find him. “Sometimes, even when you believe a trail has long gone cold, something can turn up unexpectedly.” He wasn’t saying that as a reassurance, or as a way of giving false hope. However, he thought that if Leo was seeking distractions elsewhere, then the issue he wanted to be distracted from was not yet resolved to his satisfaction - and there weren’t all that many issues which were inherently unresolvable. “Personally, I do find giving my mind a rest or working on something else to be helpful. Upon returning to an old problem with fresh eyes, there can be all sorts of insights gained,” he added. Leo merely nodded, and went on to expand upon how he was tackling the current party-related mystery.

“Lady Vikena and I have taken up the initiative to question last night's guest. Count Hendrix as well.” While he said the man’s name as he would any other, a slight change in expression indicated he was not fond of one third of the team. “Obviously none of us wish to step on your toes, but I’d at least prefer to ensure I’m not stuck with amnesia again.”

“Understandable…” He wasn’t especially fond of the meddling, however, he couldn’t deny the attendees’ right to be informed. Though it was unclear how the other two had got involved. It did not escape him that Leo didn’t favour the count. “Did Count Hendrix say anything to you about the host as well?” he wondered.

“He did mention suspected involvement of the Black Rose. A wild card, Count Hendrix, but highly observant, and perceptive. Never a bad idea to keep an eye on men like that.” Leo kept the majority of his distaste for the Varian count to himself. He believed in holding true to his word and Leo had agreed to leave his innate aversion toward the other man out of their shared investigation. He paused for a moment, “You said as well, has Count Hendrix spoken with you about all this?”

“Oh, yes,” he emphasized with a somewhat dry, dark amusement. A corner of his mouth drew up into an ironic smile. For a moment, he brought Antioch to a stop; they were now within an empty forest clearing far away from the city centre. “He approached me immediately after that morning meeting, which he appeared to have been listening in on,” he imparted. “He told me that the party’s host might be Marek Delronzo - owner of the Black Rose. Supposedly, he had learned of this via rumours.” It was clear Wulfric found it unlikely that the count had heard the name by happenstance alone.

“Do you know why or how he and Lady Charlotte became involved in this…unofficial investigation?” the prince then queried. “And if you don’t mind, I would like to know who all you’ve questioned so far and what you have learned.”

Leo could only wonder why Hendrix was so invested in all this as he pulled Menace to a stop as well. “He runs a trading company himself, I’d imagine ensuring Delronzo’s illicit activities are discovered would be a strategic way to lessen the competition. But that is speculation, I have no idea what his motives are.” Leo’s tone showed approval at this possible motive; it would be a smart move for the count to not only gain favor but to strengthen his own interests.

“I had assumed the same,” Wulfric noted. But speculation wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Thankfully, Leo had more concrete information regarding Charlotte’s involvement.

“Lady Charlotte offered to help look into my father’s disappearance during the ball. When we got talking the next day, I may have roped her into another mystery. After her own tragedies, and being threatened by Count Calbert after the ball, I’m sure it provides a welcomed distraction and a bit of nostalgia. We spent many summers here searching out childish mysteries to solve.” He left out Charlotte’s suspicions about her mother’s death, which was hers to share if she wanted, but Calbert’s actions deserved to be brought to the prince’s attention.

Indeed, it was that tidbit which piqued the prince’s interest. “Count Damien threatened her?” His eyebrows raised in mild disbelief. However, it was possible. But the question was, “Why would he do it?” he murmured quietly. He gave Leo a curt nod. “That is good to know,” he said as a way of thanking him.

“I spoke with your sister first; she recalls all the events leading up to descending stairs into the party. As do I. She also mentioned this was not the first occurrence of these underground parties, though she does not remember what happened at any of them. She also mentioned seeing cupcakes on the floor. Those I’ve spoken with, and my own hazy scraps of memory, are like flashes from a mostly forgotten dream.” Leo paused to allow any follow-up questions and organize his thoughts about his conversation with Nahir.

“Stairs?” Wulfric frowned. “So, we’re looking for a basement.” Quite suddenly, he was reminded of the secret archive in their castle, and how it was hidden with a combination of clever mechanisms and undoubtedly some magic as well. Delronzo could very well be doing the same. “After what happened, I did consider something similar might have happened in the past.” It was strange his sister had said it to Leo, but not to him, even though he’d asked her as much. “Does it seem to you that you have become able to remember more with time?” he questioned the lord.

“It could be time, but it could also be a matter of focus. Trying to push past the mental block triggers these intense headaches.” It would be helpful if the memories all returned with time but Leo doubted it. “I know it’s a stretch but since cupcakes were mentioned I’ve been thinking of questioning the baker from the ball last night, Ezra Turner. Especially given the bizarre display he put on last night.” Leo offered up the baker as a person of interest, more than willing to grasp onto that tenuous thread mostly based on how deeply he disliked the baker. Wulfric nodded, agreeing that man should be watched.

“I also spoke with Shehzadi Nahir, her memories included flashing lights and floating colors. When I mentioned my own memories, that of a clouded blue sky and strange, almost mechanical, music, she had an odd theory.” Leo paused, not entirely sure how to bring up the ‘magic trick’ theory without sounding ridiculous. “While it certainly sounds strange, everything I know or have heard about last night is almost equally strange. The Shehzadi mentioned magic as a potential cause for the weirdness of it all.” Leo did not mention magic in some hushed tone that showed any fear for such a thing, something he didn’t truly believe existed. He brought it up because he’d said he’d look into it, and because he was hoping for assurance that it was entirely make-believe.

“Magic,” Wulfric repeated, lips pursing. Mainly, it struck him that Nahir must know of it, and mentioned it quite casually to another. Just who else knew? Was it liable that this would uncontrollably become public knowledge? The prince then sighed. “I have never known any drugs to cause the effects which you all have exhibited. Of course, that doesn’t mean that such drugs do not exist. As fantastical as it is…a similar argument could be made about magic,” it was clear he disliked this concept. “Take it if - if - mundane means were to be ruled out; that is, if medical analysis proved that no drug or poison were found within the blood samples retrieved from my siblings…” He let Leo draw his own conclusion. However, he chose to add, “Let’s just say even something like that should not be discounted on principle alone.”

“Well, that is not what I was hoping to hear,” Leo admitted with a sigh. “I’d prefer something that wouldn’t lead to flipping through fairy tales for explanations.” But if Wulfric was also willing to entertain the notion of magic, that was now two entirely practical people willing to accept magic as a possibility. “But if magic is real,” Leo let out a long whistle, “there’s a lot more to worry about, more than a few weird parties and lost memories. It would be the sort of threat that would require swift attention.” Leo let himself fully consider the possibility for a moment. He’d need real proof, to accept such a radical belief, but it would be a mistake to ignore such a dangerous threat.

“Yes. Exactly,” the prince agreed with that assessment of severity. “However, if it exists, I believe we will not have to resort to sifting through fantastical stories. It isn’t witches or creatures from tales doing this, but humans. The effects are something tangible, so the cause must be something concrete as well. If there is something to this, we are more than capable of unearthing it.” He knew there was ‘something’ for a fact, but since Leo was keeping things on a hypothetical level, Wulfric did the same. It did not seem the lord knew about magic, so he did not intend to confirm its existence as a fact.

He prompted his horse into a slow walk, continuing on a path through the forest. “But leaving that angle aside for now,” he said, not keen to discuss magic anymore, “who else is there to question yet? I’m assuming Lady Charlotte - and Count Hendrix, I suppose - will speak to the remaining party goers if they haven’t already. I don’t know if you three intend to do anything more than that, but as you’ve noted, it could be dangerous,” Wulfric warned.

“I believe Lady Charlotte spoke with the Shahzades after dinner while Count Hendrix was going to speak to the Varian guests. I’ve not met with them since so I don’t know what they’ve found out. I’m also not sure if either of them got the chance to speak with your brother or Kazumin, but the plan was to interview the guests and see what we could piece together from there.” Leo explained as Menace followed Antioch at a meandering pace. Leo felt more comfortable speaking about things he knew to be fully planted in reality over the hypothetical existence of magic.

“Whether chemical, mystical, or mass hypnosis, this remains dangerous until we can understand how and why it was done. Even once you have apprehended the culprit, or culprits, who’s to say that someone else won’t try something similar? Even more disturbing, would anyone really go to all this trouble just to hide a party?” Leo paused and shook his head, “What’s the real goal here? A blackmail scheme? A test run before doing something worse? The more I think about it, the more it seems like it would be precarious to simply remain in the dark.” Leo explained, the goal here was answers, and the faster they got answers the better it would be for all involved.

“Blackmail, sabotage, profit, experiments…” Wulfric listed a few possibilities. He understood the sentiment of not wanting to be in the dark perfectly well. However, he was wary of casually disseminating knowledge of magic. At the very least, he wanted to get a firmer grasp on it himself first. “It might not be amiss for the four of us to meet and share our findings in the following days,” he suggested. He did want to see what Hendrix and Charlotte wanted out of this. “But for now - unless you have any questions for me, or something else to discuss - we might as well enjoy the rest of our afternoon in nature,” he proposed. As dire as the situation was, there was not anything urgent they had to do at this very moment. Besides, as he’d said previously, an active respite like this was quite valuable.

“I absolutely agree, any information I have shall be yours as well. This is your country after all.” Leo offered an earnest reply. Wulfric certainly had a mind for detective work and held legitimate authority in Caesonia, truly there wasn’t a single person he could think of that he’d rather add to the team. Since it seemed the prince had tired of discussing matters of secret parties and possible magic usage, Leo inquired about more pleasant topics; the latest trends in Sorian, which shops and restaurants were most worth checking out, and trading hunting stories. Nothing that would be taxing on the mind, but enough to keep a conversation going.

[Helo]

Time: Morning
Location: Callum’s bedroom to Ezra’s Bakery
Interactions: Ezra @Potter

New day, new chaos. Callum once again had a perfectly terrible idea for how to disrupt his family’s plans. Edin had put so much work into hosting a tea party for nobles, and what did every party need? Cake. So he’d gotten up early, he’d put even more effort into getting ready for the day than he had for the prince’s court. A proper scrubbing, a nice suit, and it all looked even more out of place with his face painted in bruises that were still in the awkward stage of healing that only made them look worse than they initially had. He even took the time to style his hair, making sure it looked like every portrait he’d ever seen of his grandfather George. He studied his face in the mirror, trying to perfectly mimic the same intense expression George’s face held in his portraits as well. Cal had no idea why anything involving George seemed to upset Edin so much, but if it made Edin feel anything like he felt when he thought of Edin, it seemed well worth trying.

Once he was satisfied he left the palace with his invasive babysitters following close behind him and headed to the bakery. Nothing wrong with bringing cakes to a tea party, and he had heard his father so loved Ezra’s cakes. Cal had the hint of a smug smile as he walked, this was going to be a fun day, all he had to do now was convince the baker to attend the tea party as his plus one. It shouldn’t be difficult if the man kept bringing treats to the palace he clearly had a reason to be doing so, Cal didn’t really care what the reason was, but he guessed this would benefit both of them.

“Mister Turner?” He called as he entered, “I’d like to purchase several of your finest cakes!” Callum wore a bright and mischievous smile.

[Potter]

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Time: Morning
Location: Ezra ‘s Bakery
Attire:
Interactions: @Helo Callum
Mentions: @princess Anastasia, @silverpaw Wulfric, @mantou Wystan. @Inertia Auguste

---

After giving the Danrose’s their gifts, Ezra had appeared to leave the castle. A quick pitstop made possible by Victorie had given him the leverage he needed. The objects he’d found were so small and minor that nobody would really notice. Ezra was unable to believe how perfectly his night had gone. The trip to the castle was successful; the seeds were planted and soon the fruit of his labor would come to fruition. Afterwards, Ezra had gone home. He’d drank and ate food he’d stolen on the way home, pulverized townsfolk who had asked him for help, and tended to his paintings. The victims hadn’t been able to receive a clear look of his face; for some reason, it was disguised in fog. All in all, it had been a great evening, and Ezra had allowed himself to unwind after it. His sleep was punctured throughout the night of his beautiful princess.

The next day hadn’t been a waste either. Ezra had closed his bakery to the public. This time he’d specifically begun baking and cooking once more. He’d practiced some of his fine art as well, on a… willing subject. That was an understatement, but he hadn’t cared. In Between baking and torturing, he had reports given to him on the whereabouts and frequency of the Danroses and their disgusting homeless watchdog. The information served him well, and he’d make use of their travel routes and habits. Of course, he already knew the princess’, his soon-to-be-wife, but he had to track further and investigate.

The next day came quickly; Ezra had been bored waiting for it. He was in the middle of his baking once more, crafting new delicacies for the king. The bumbling food loved his bakery, but who could blame him? His shop was rising to newfound fame. He crafted all his bakery with extra care, but some of them were different from the others. Ezra was in the back when he heard a familiar voice call to him. It was then that Ezra thought he’d lost his mind. As he exited from the backroom, he found none other than the worthless son, Prince Callum, standing before him. It took Ezra a moment to collect himself and then grin, trying to hide the mischief in it as well. Behind him, some of the workers glanced over with interest, but stayed out of the way and earshot or eyesight of the prince, working hastily to fulfill their needs.

”Good morning Prince Callum. It is an honor to see you here. You can have as many cakes as you want on the house! What flavors would interest you? I can prepare a carriage for you as well if you would like.”

[Tpartywithzombi]

Location: Damian Manor
Time: Sola 23 - Morning

Time, relentless in its march, continued its ceaseless advance while Violet, paralyzed by her own turmoil, remained ensnared by her mind. She had kept herself hidden and away in her room. At some point, Violet had drawn the curtains tightly, finding solace in the illusion of confinement—a self-imposed cage, shielding her from the world or, perhaps, protecting the world from her.

The room exuded darkness, suffocating any traces of light that dared to enter. Thick drapes, heavy and impenetrable, clung to the windows, sealing within the monstrous presence lurking behind them.

As the sun rose, heralding the arrival of a new day, it cast rays that struggled to breach the inside of her prison. She had spent the entire time, lost in a disoriented haze, fixated on the haunting glow of the moon, drifting in and out of a nightmarish dream.

Through the veil of fabric, faint streaks of sunlight filtered into the room, painting the floor with a veneer of golden warmth that resembled liquid gold. The air hung heavy with silence, her sole companion amidst the echoing ticks of a clock. A relentless reminder of the night's emotions strewn across the floor of her bedroom.

Vampire…

A word laden with connotations of damnation, of being a demon or a monstrous abomination, as callously bestowed upon her by one of those men.

Books often chronicled the existence of such creatures, their titles resonating with vile horror, an apt description of her own story. And the world in all of its own twisted faults and issues would paint her the same way. She truly belonged in a cage or, better yet, dead—an eternal exile from the lives she threatened to ruin.

The taste of the man's blood lingered, stubbornly staining her mouth. She had rinsed it away, employing water and salt in vain attempts to purge the sweet nectar of life. Yet, it persisted an insidious presence, clinging to the tip of her tongue like the memory of honey. She yearned for more of that intoxicating warmth, her mind succumbing to a false ecstasy, drawing her back to the moment of her first bite. But she pulled herself out abruptly, wrenching herself from the allure of the past, her body leaning forward in the chair, hands resting on her knees, while disgust cascaded down her spine.

Was this all she would be able to think about

Her legs propelled her forward, a slow and deliberate movement, carrying her towards the drapes. She extended her hand, fingers entwined around the coarse fabric, clutching it with desperate intensity. And then, with an eruption of determination, she flung them open, exposing herself to the cruel light of morning, as if anticipating her annihilation—her transformation into a pile of ash. However, the tales of vampires had deceived her. Violet's eyes fluttered, grappling with the assault of brightness, gradually adjusting to the bright lights. A faint tingling sensation grazed her skin as her hands relinquished their death grip, slumping lifelessly by her side.

Bathed in the morning light, her eyes, once a haunting shade of crimson, blazed like rubies, a stark contrast to her complexion. The sun's light was agonizing, a relentless torment that seared her flesh, turning it a furious shade of red, as if her very being was set ablaze. She stood there, subjected to the torment, allowing the pain to consume her, disappointment welling up inside.

She was alive.

The books she had so diligently absorbed had deceived her—she should have disintegrated, consumed by the light, reducing her to nothingness. But she remained...unfortunately. Tears welled in Violet's eyes, an embodiment of her anguish, while her strength wavered, causing her knees to buckle.

Violet released a cry, a sound that would only be heard as a whisper. Her voice cracked as the pain began to be too much.

Slowly, she closed the drapes, struggling against the relentless burn that had taken hold of her skin. As the sun receded, vanishing once more behind the veil of fabric, her flesh cooled, and the pain subsided with unexpected rapidity. A sigh of relief escaped her trembling lips, and she leaned forward, seeking solace, only to discover that her skin, once sunburnt, reverted to its pale tone, a cruel reminder of her situation.

Collapsing back into the plush chair, her body folding upon itself, Violet's mind spiraled, a whirlwind of tormented thoughts, while silent tears traced their path down her cheeks.

[SausagePat]

Time: Mid morning
Location: Sorian Beach
Soundtrack:

It had been a tough few days for the scrawny blonde-headed Sorian girl as she tried desperately to work her way into the upper class of society. Her plan was still in the works, but today she decided that a relaxing day by the water was just the cure to wash away her worries. It wasn’t too far of a stroll to the Sorian beach from her humble abode, so Ruby took off early in the morning, gathering what swim clothes she had made up from pieces in her closet. Her yellow suit was two pieces and had a frayed look to it, with various strings dangling down if you looked close enough.

Halfway there Ruby heard the banging of some drums and she began to sway her body to the beat as she walked down the path toward the orange and yellow sunrise. The hot sand suddenly touched her bare feet and she soon regretted not wearing any footwear for once. “EEEEEEEEEP!” She screeched as she tiptoed furiously toward the water. There were more people along the shoreside than she anticipated.

She was not going to get involved in socialization right now; that was not the plan for today! This was her moment to relax, soak up the sun, and gain back her sanity to continue the ruse she was holding by a thread. The cool water splashed repeatedly past her feet and she slowly sunk into the sand. For a good moment, she felt truly happy. The sea breeze and the sound of the enchanting band shot a jolt through her body and she couldn’t contain her excitement. Ruby dove nearly head first into the water, although standing in a shallow part of the sea.