FunnyGuy

Young Justice

Location: Bank Fourth Floor
Interactions: The Team

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“Well, shit…” Viktor said as he rounded a row of cubicles and caught sight of the excessively beaten bank robbers Vincent discovered. “I shouldn’t say ‘I’m not sure’ but this situation is escalating unpredictably.” Viktor sighed. His theory on what was transpiring on the tip of his tongue. However, he refrained from telling Vincent that Kila or Ja was acting violently out of sorts. He was going to request a status report so he would at least know what the next best move should be when he heard Cora over comms. She was giving a status report before she cut out.

The idea of there being a threat to his team that continued to elude him was visibly frustrating him now. Viktor swung a fist back into the nearest wall, punching through the plaster as if it was paper.

“I’m getting tired of this. Talos, there’s no point in pinning these two down, and I’m not waiting for another incomplete report over comms. Fifth floor, let’s go.” Viktor would be taking the same stairwell as Vincent this time.

By the time the two of them reached the fifth floor, they would arrive just in time to witness Cora blasting the two robbers in the elevator with electricity. The buttons inside lit and unlit sporadically before the elevator alarm rang with a shrill bell ring. Besides those riding Cora’s lightning, Viktor didn’t see any other robbers being a problem but there were two people on the floor he was focused on. He looked toward the hero who had accompanied Daphne through the majority of the mission. Giving a quick nod, Viktor turned his attention to Kila. The elevator alarm was still going off but he attempted to address his troubled teammate nevertheless.

“Metamorph! What is your status?!” The rifle in his possession was instinctively at the low ready. He could see he was close to Daphne but that observation was not enough for him. He needed to hear it from his peer’s mouth.

Avalia

Mister Luum

Mister Luum ⋆ 456 ⋆ Male ⋆ Elf

Appearance

Height:

6 ft

Build:

Lean athletic build.

Hair Color:

Brown

Hair Length

Shoulder-length

Eye Color:

Green

Skin Tone:

Medium-brown

Distinguishing features:

Sun/star-shaped tattoos on left shoulder and forehead. Green and gold necklace, three earrings per ear, labret piercing, and septum piercing.

Psychology

Likes:

⋆ Making new acquaintances
⋆ Sharing extravagant old stories
⋆ Thanking Solaris for all good happenings
⋆ A lively party
⋆ Leading others to victory by way of coaching rather than participating
⋆ Discussing matters concerning magic
⋆ Exploring unusual practices
⋆ Curiosities
⋆ Rumors and gossip
⋆ Music
⋆ Talking through his problems

Dislikes:

⋆ People he considers to be too uptight or negative
⋆ Being lectured, especially by someone younger than himself
⋆ His lies being caught on to too frequently or too quickly
⋆ Light magic illusions and invisibility
⋆ Bland food
⋆ Prudes
⋆ Certain people. He never seems to have a legitimate reason for this but instead validates his dislike with the first thing disagreeable about said person.

Fears:

⋆ Public knowledge of his true name
⋆ The wrath of a certain elf
⋆ Chaperoning a human that he won’t get along with
⋆ Being alone.

Habits/Quirks

⋆ Mister Luum seems to always have a smile on his face. He also embellishes the truth quite often… or does he?

Sexuality:

Heterosexual

Personality:

Mister Luum almost always comes off as friendly and almost intrusive toward others whether he’s known them for a few seconds or several decades. He’s rarely ever seen by his lonesome, constantly engaging with others. Whether friend or foe, Mister Luum is sure to indiscriminately flash his pearly whites. Divisions between social classes and species don’t concern this elf making him unreluctant in approaching the largest of orcs or the grumpiest of dwarves. However, whenever he’s left alone he finds himself overwhelmed by boredom to the point where he’ll seek out nearly anything to be his company. Whenever this fails, Mister Luum will simply talk to himself, and quite loudly too. As far as selfishness goes, Mr. Luum wavers here. He’ll give to those with less than himself, but he won’t give up valuable items or enough where he finds that it harms himself. He won’t spoil anyone, as he feels most people should be capable of earning their keep. Mister Luum will sometimes point this fact out using his slave demihuman as an example. As friendly and warm as Mister Luum is, he doesn't prefer being touchy unless he’s trying to get under someone’s skin who displays introverted tendencies. Despite what he displays on the outside, Mister Luum is not very quick to trust others. His intrusiveness and attention he gives to others are not always well-intentioned but rather suspicion masked by curiosity.

Mister Luum retains quite an upbeat mood, even annoyingly so. Even when all hope seems lost, the elf seems to always find a thin silver lining to grasp a hold of. Patience is something Mister Luum has learned and practiced and is not necessarily in his nature. You say “Go” and the elf is running to the hills but he also has the capacity to simply wait. He’s learned to do this by occupying his time with talking, singing, thinking, and meditating. Mister Luum would neither consider himself a coward nor anxious in stressful situations, though he would choose to leave a situation he determines might end poorly. It’s more about weighing the pros and cons logically than deciding emotionally with him.

Despite all that has been given, Mister Luum is a bit of an enigma. He’s deemed trustworthy enough to assist in the rebellion, but not much is known about him. The elf may seem intellectual one moment and then a total fool the next. He seems to get along or at least tolerate most, but his smile could be considered a faux that he wears as a mask. His ownership of a slave may be of concern or intolerable to others, yet he doesn’t seem to bat an eye to the idea of participating in a relationship that would be considered unbecoming of an elf attempting to liberate Avalia from Malthemoor’s clutches. He seems nice, sure, but how much should you trust him just because he seems pleasant?

Background

Occupation

Currently considers himself to be an Adventurer and claims to be an entrepreneur of a very successful shop called “Saluumi Shack” that he always conveniently mentions is “kinda out of the way” no matter where he seems to be.

Living Immediate Family Members:

The Luminos Family of the Sun Elf Kingdom

Dead Immediate Family Members:

None of note

Current Companions:

Brigitte the slave

Current and Past Lover(s):

DM me and I will fill this 🙂

Current Equipment: Mister Luum has a staff made of oak wood, though he doesn’t seem to treat it very well, and if one is observant enough they will key in on noticeable changes to the staff. Mister Luum owns a pair of channeling gloves he rarely wears, a cold ring, and a disguise ring, and an armor of deflection enchantment.

History: Antaris “Mister Luum” Luminos was born and raised in the proud Sun Elf Kingdom nearly half a millennia ago. He had always been the social butterfly, even annoyingly so at times. As a child, he might have been passed off as the kid who couldn’t just keep quiet but his proclivity for generating light magic drew the attention of his elders. Light generation came easy to him, but the rest, not so much. He was always considered to be the light elf in his generation that could shine the brightest but when it came to technique and applying the magic into useful shapes, Antaris was quite lackluster. His elders that were once intrigued quickly dismissed his giftedness. Though, Antaris thought nothing of it as a young elf, always enjoying the lavish light show he could create, his parents thought otherwise. They saw it fit to set their son on the path to be placed into the House of Solaris, one of the few guilds of the Sun Elf Kingdom. The House of Solaris was known for training and preparing light elves to weave and bend light magic a cut above the rest. While their sister guild, the House of Lunathea focused on the raising of priests and priestesses meant to put the kingdom at ease with their abilities to soothe and protect the kingdom and its people, The House of Solaris’ purpose was to create far-reaching soldiers meant to eliminate threats before they were too close to home.

Once in the guild, Antaris seldom saw his childhood friends, even when he put forth the effort to make time for them. He dreaded the training and meditation he was required to do and it only became worse when he was eventually moved into the guild’s barracks. At the guild, he learned what he would be offered in normal elven schooling but with an additional focus on the study of magic and the blessings Solaris gifted upon the world. He was given time off but it was always staggered against everyone else. Still, he attempted to make friends as he always had but was somewhat of the oddball of the bunch. It’s not like he chose to be there. The training wasn’t as spectacular as he would have liked it to be. Learning to use magic was one thing, however, simply learning about magic was far less intriguing in Antaris’ young years. The curriculum made sense for the time. Avalia was at peace. The only threats consisted of large creatures that steered too close, bandits, and an occasional party of green-skins that sought to pillage neighboring villages. That was the case for a long time, a few hundred years to be exact… And then the Malthemoor Kingdom came in like a bat out of hell.

Antaris was both excited and wary of the war declared by his banished elf-kin. He’d get to actually do something that didn’t just amount to a simple flash in the dark but also knew his Kingdom hadn’t prepared for something like this. The idea of Malthemoor succeeding was a bit ridiculous until they took Roshmi City and the trading hubs on the seas. Deploying to distant battles in need of Sun Elf Kingdom soldiers never promised a safe return home, so every time Antaris was sent forth, he fought with everything he had. He even established a bit of a name for himself due to the magical wrath he unleashed on his foes. “The Beacon.”

His enemies always knew he was coming with his noticeable flashes of light in battle. It gave them a momentary advantage. They could prepare for his advancement. Unfortunately for them, the real problem was stopping Antaris once he reached them. A mage that truly weaponized his magic even if he wasn’t a master of all its capabilities.

Alas, the victor of the war was Malthemoor, and the word was spreading about their king wanting the heads of every notable Sun Elf soldier that fought against them. Antaris the Beacon being one of them. Antaris had been a powerful mage that fought dutifully for his kingdom, but this elf was not about to have his head chopped off as a reward for going above and beyond with his service. And so, he rid himself of his uniform and even cast away his name as he set on starting a new life. He traveled about, gallivanted foolishly, tried drugs out just because, started a business or so he says and even purchased a slave for sale to make life easier. However, it did not matter where he traveled or what he did, the dark elves were in power and it weighed down against the people of Avalia. Hope seemed lost, almost completely, until he was met by an old family friend that piqued his interest. A rebellion.

“Now that sounds like suicide! Is that really your plan? It’s cool but… definitely suicide… I’m in!”

Combat and Magic Stat Creation:

The below questions will ask you to name the number of years of experience with certain stats and to describe your athletic behavior. The GMs will present your character’s stats based on the information you provide below. Please try to keep this realistic. We will call you out if it sounds implausible. We may reach out to you for additional questions if need be.

Fitness Level:
⋆ Mister Luum wouldn’t be labeled as an athlete aside from his ability to move about. He isn’t physically strong but he’s surprisingly more agile than most due to not being equipped to resist too many attacks with his lack of armor. His physical stamina falls in the range of average but can mentally push himself when needed. Mister Luum has always seen his physical prowess as simply an accessory to his magical abilities. To him, his body is the base for the weapon that is his magic. Mobility is key to him

What are your character’s physical strengths?
⋆ His mobility for the most part.
⋆ Mister Luum is proficient at using a staff as a defensive weapon.

What are your character’s physical weaknesses?
⋆ Mister Luum is fit but not for strength in attacking with weapons or his fists. He could throw a punch, sure, but don’t expect it.
⋆ Mister Luum isn’t as durable as he wished he could be and relies on dodging or magical feats to endure or avoid attacks.

Years of Experience:

Weapon(s):
⋆ Mister Luum has used a staff with the House of Solaris for over 200 years, though its primary use is channeling magic.

Hand-to-Hand Combat: Mister Luum doesn’t fight with his hands.

Years of Magic Experience:

⋆ Offensive Photokinesis: 30 years of dedicated time with high progress
⋆ Illusions (includes invisibility): 20 years of dedicated time with low progress*
⋆ Shielding: 30 years of dedicated time

Best Abilities:

Light Magic (Offense Photokinesis)

Luum's Stats

Physical Stats

Strength: ⬤⬤◯◯◯

Ground Speed: ⬤⬤⬤◯◯

Stamina: ⬤⬤⬤⬤◯

Dexterity: ⬤⬤⬤⬤◯

Durability: ⬤⬤◯◯◯

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Combat Stats

Staff Combat: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤

Hand to Hand Combat: ⬤⬤◯◯◯

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Magic Stats

Offensive Photokinesis: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤

Illusions (includes invisibility): ⬤⬤⬤⬤◯

Shielding: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤

Brigitte

Brigitte ⋆ 20 ⋆ Female ⋆ Demihuman

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Appearance

Height:

5’8”

Build:

Lithe

Hair Color:

Red

Hair Length

Shoulder length

Eye Color:

Pale Blue

Skin Tone:

Fair

Distinguishing features:

A pair of horns on her head and subtle freckles on her cheeks

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Psychology

Sexuality:

Bisexual

Personality:

Brigitte is warm and comforting, always ready with a kind word or a listening ear. However, she also possesses an intelligent and resourceful mind. Brigitte is a problem-solver who can think on her feet and find creative solutions to any challenge that comes her way. She has a curious and observant nature, always eager to learn and understand more about the world around her. Her intelligence and quick wit often help her navigate tricky situations with ease.

Despite her resourcefulness and intelligence, Brigitte never loses sight of her kindness and compassion. She cares deeply about others and is always willing to lend a hand or offer support to those in need. She is a fiercely loyal friend and a trusted confidante to Mister Luum, always there to listen and offer guidance.

Her warm and caring nature, combined with her problem-solving skills and quick mind, make her a valuable asset to Mister Luum.

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Background

Occupation

Slave owned by Mister Luum...

Current Equipment(Any weapons etc): Longbow
Current Location:
Current Companions: Mister Luum

Brief History(Optional): Brigitte was fortunate enough to at least to have been born free. Her father was a successful trapper, a newly acquired trade by his family after the war. His and his loving wife’s forefathers before them had amassed a fortune as appraisers for the black market, using their sharp senses to determine the value of products to be bought or sold. It was quite the gig until Malthemoor took over and ensured many black market vendors went out of business. Trapping, which had been a secondary source of income quickly became the primary trade for the family. It put food on the table but severely hit the family financially. Brigitte’s parents were doing decently while expecting their first child but her father was accused and convicted of disrespect toward a dark elven woman who claimed he raised his prices far too high for the furs she wanted. Unfortunately, for him, the dark elf was in close relation to Warden Verneus Talven. The verdict was torture and the removal of his itchy palmed hands. Devastated by such an injury, the decent flow of money became trying with Brigitte’s mother left pregnant and unable to keep up the trapping business. Support from the family helped but her siblings and siblings-in-law needed to prioritize their own households. In desperation to support herself and not have her child be born poverty-stricken, Brigitte’s mother turned to gamble regularly in Riverport as an attempt to keep herself afloat. It seemed risky but this demihuman leaned on her superior heightened senses to catch tells, identify her more intoxicated competition, and see which folks were hefty with amas.

It was quite an advantageous sitch, and she took full advantage of it. There were other demihumans who could key in cues with their bestial abilities, but they paled in comparison and lacked her motivation. In a few months’ time, the pregnant woman was known for emptying others’ pockets and constantly putting card games on hold due to bathroom breaks. Her husband didn’t approve but he couldn’t argue with the amas she was bringing in.

When Brigitte was born, her father recommended they move from Riverport. To him, the gambling was profitable but he could see how others looked at him and his wife with enmity. In the time it took to nurse Brigitte post-birth, the casino took the time to scheme for her mother’s return. Once she had, she was accused of cheating after being dealt a hand with a counterfeit card at one of the tables. Not only was she accused of cheating this instant but also for her previous wins. She’d made enough enemies that the volunteer witnesses numbered over a dozen. Brigitte’s father and mother were swindlers not only in the court of public opinion but the court of law! The debt placed was so high, it could only be paid with their lives. Brigitte’s father was deemed unfit for slave labor and was publicly executed for his repeated offense involving stealing from Avalian citizens. Brigitte’s mother was placed into a labor camp alongside others deemed criminals and Warforged that failed to find their purpose in the world. Brigitte, unfit for labor was assigned to an orphanage but her infancy did not shield her from the debt. Her mother, not the most physically inclined, especially so soon after the pregnancy worked under heartbreak and died within a few months. No one else was equipped or willing to take the debt on, and so it fell on the child. The debt loomed over Brigitte as she was raised in less than hospitable conditions, not privy to what was in store once she was deemed fit to work. She never truly knew who her parents were, only being told they were simply unfortunate people that made unfavorable decisions.

“They were greedy.”

“They were unfortunately unlucky. Same as you.”

She was assigned to work as a servant for the casino. She cleaned up the messes others made to repay the establishment… unironically cleaning up the mess she inherited. Working at the casino was not much better than living at the orphanage except for her exposure to games that were played there. Sometimes it was exciting to watch when she got the chance. Interestingly enough, outside of the bare-bones education she would receive, the casino taught her a collective of things. The games taught her mathematics and how people strategized against others. The sidebar conversations taught her about the goings-on of Avalia and exposed her to those from other cultures without the need for travel. But most of all, the casino taught her how to read a room and those within it. Her keen senses made her work a game in itself. At times she knew who would win a large purse, who would lose, and even those that were cheating. When she wasn’t working, she read books to occupy her time, escaping to different realities and different times. This hobby started to become a necessity as the demands over what she needed to do increased and included acts that defiled her sanctity as she experienced her menarche. Despite what she was made to do or the knowledge she absorbed over the years, Brigitte always remained beholden to her masters running the casino. It was a life she was beginning to accept.

And then the oddest elf entered the establishment with a great big smile on his face. She was only fifteen at the time but it had been the first time she found herself vexed by someone. Unlike anyone else, she couldn’t quite read him. Brigitte equated him to a large decorated, and vibrant book that was written in a language that she couldn’t quite decipher. She was attracted to the enigma like a moth to a flame, placing herself close to him while she worked. His competition wore stoic faces against his smile that never faltered. Oddly enough, he greeted her like she wasn’t what she was and he… let her play a game with his hand.

“You got this!”

“Really? She’s a… Perfect! If she wins, I’ll take her… Debt? How much? Oh… And she’s paying that doing this? She’s never played, right? So how about we raise the stakes? She wins, forget the pot, she’s mine. She loses, well I guess by Solaris I’ll have to be her coworker for a time. I’m 451. I got time.”

“But between you and me, I think your luck is about to change.”

And it did. Mister Luum “unofficially” purchased her but oddly didn’t choose to grant her freedom. Instead, he had her work for him as his assistant of sorts. He made sure to keep her occupied with some sort of task, even strange ones such as counting the hairs on a dwarf's left eyebrow or listening out for how many roosters crowed at dawn. He supplied her with plenty of books to read but he also forbade her from talking to anyone else unless he said she could. She also had to ask his permission for almost everything. He almost always said “yes” which was even odder, even when tested him by asking if she could hold all of his amas. After a few weeks of following Mister Luum, which is all he would go by, he gifted her a longbow.

“For protection. Awesome, huh? I can’t teach you how to use it though. But hey, if a guy like me can figure out magic, you’ll be fine. Plus you’re smart.”

Brigitte and Mister Luum maintained their odd yet healthy friendship, traveling across Avalia while awaiting the “big important thing” to happen. She did manage to become skillful with her longbow, especially with Mister Luum making her shoot at random targets without rhyme or reason almost daily. Brigitte was also able to develop her senses, gaining a keen sense of her surrounding at an impressive level. She could key in on even the most subtle of details with ease.

Avalia

Mister Luum

Mister Luum ⋆ 456 ⋆ Male ⋆ Elf

Appearance

Height:

6 ft

Build:

Lean athletic build.

Hair Color:

Brown

Hair Length

Shoulder-length

Eye Color:

Green

Skin Tone:

Medium-brown

Distinguishing features:

Sun/star-shaped tattoos on left shoulder and forehead. Green and F6DC88 necklace, three earrings per ear, labret piercing, and septum piercing.

Psychology

Likes:

⋆ Making new acquaintances
⋆ Sharing extravagant old stories
⋆ Thanking Solaris for all good happenings
⋆ A lively party
⋆ Leading others to victory by way of coaching rather than participating
⋆ Discussing matters concerning magic
⋆ Exploring unusual practices
⋆ Curiosities
⋆ Rumors and gossip
⋆ Music
⋆ Talking through his problems

Dislikes:

⋆ People he considers to be too uptight or negative
⋆ Being lectured, especially by someone younger than himself
⋆ His lies being caught on to too frequently or too quickly
⋆ Light magic illusions and invisibility
⋆ Bland food
⋆ Prudes
⋆ Certain people. He never seems to have a legitimate reason for this but instead validates his dislike with the first thing disagreeable about said person.

Fears:

⋆ Public knowledge of his true name
⋆ The wrath of a certain elf
⋆ Chaperoning a human that he won’t get along with
⋆ Being alone.

Habits/Quirks

⋆ Mister Luum seems to always have a smile on his face. He also embellishes the truth quite often… or does he?

Sexuality:

Heterosexual

Personality:

Mister Luum almost always comes off as friendly and almost intrusive toward others whether he’s known them for a few seconds or several decades. He’s rarely ever seen by his lonesome, constantly engaging with others. Whether friend or foe, Mister Luum is sure to indiscriminately flash his pearly whites. Divisions between social classes and species don’t concern this elf making him unreluctant in approaching the largest of orcs or the grumpiest of dwarves. However, whenever he’s left alone he finds himself overwhelmed by boredom to the point where he’ll seek out nearly anything to be his company. Whenever this fails, Mister Luum will simply talk to himself, and quite loudly too. As far as selfishness goes, Mr. Luum wavers here. He’ll give to those with less than himself, but he won’t give up valuable items or enough where he finds that it harms himself. He won’t spoil anyone, as he feels most people should be capable of earning their keep. Mister Luum will sometimes point this fact out using his slave demihuman as an example. As friendly and warm as Mister Luum is, he doesn't prefer being touchy unless he’s trying to get under someone’s skin who displays introverted tendencies. Despite what he displays on the outside, Mister Luum is not very quick to trust others. His intrusiveness and attention he gives to others are not always well-intentioned but rather suspicion masked by curiosity.

Mister Luum retains quite an upbeat mood, even annoyingly so. Even when all hope seems lost, the elf seems to always find a thin silver lining to grasp a hold of. Patience is something Mister Luum has learned and practiced and is not necessarily in his nature. You say “Go” and the elf is running to the hills but he also has the capacity to simply wait. He’s learned to do this by occupying his time with talking, singing, thinking, and meditating. Mister Luum would neither consider himself a coward nor anxious in stressful situations, though he would choose to leave a situation he determines might end poorly. It’s more about weighing the pros and cons logically than deciding emotionally with him.

Despite all that has been given, Mister Luum is a bit of an enigma. He’s deemed trustworthy enough to assist in the rebellion, but not much is known about him. The elf may seem intellectual one moment and then a total fool the next. He seems to get along or at least tolerate most, but his smile could be considered a faux that he wears as a mask. His ownership of a slave may be of concern or intolerable to others, yet he doesn’t seem to bat an eye to the idea of participating in a relationship that would be considered unbecoming of an elf attempting to liberate Avalia from Malthemoor’s clutches. He seems nice, sure, but how much should you trust him just because he seems pleasant?

Background

Occupation

Currently considers himself to be an Adventurer and claims to be an entrepreneur of a very successful shop called “Saluumi Shack” that he always conveniently mentions is “kinda out of the way” no matter where he seems to be.

Living Immediate Family Members:

The Luminos Family of the Sun Elf Kingdom

Dead Immediate Family Members:

None of note

Current Companions:

Brigitte the slave

Current and Past Lover(s):

DM me and I will fill this 🙂

Current Equipment: Mister Luum has a staff made of oak wood, though he doesn’t seem to treat it very well, and if one is observant enough they will key in on noticeable changes to the staff. Mister Luum owns a pair of channeling gloves he rarely wears, a cold ring, and a disguise ring, and an armor of deflection enchantment.

History: Antaris “Mister Luum” Luminos was born and raised in the proud Sun Elf Kingdom nearly half a millennia ago. He had always been the social butterfly, even annoyingly so at times. As a child, he might have been passed off as the kid who couldn’t just keep quiet but his proclivity for generating light magic drew the attention of his elders. Light generation came easy to him, but the rest, not so much. He was always considered to be the light elf in his generation that could shine the brightest but when it came to technique and applying the magic into useful shapes, Antaris was quite lackluster. His elders that were once intrigued quickly dismissed his giftedness. Though, Antaris thought nothing of it as a young elf, always enjoying the lavish light show he could create, his parents thought otherwise. They saw it fit to set their son on the path to be placed into the House of Solaris, one of the few guilds of the Sun Elf Kingdom. The House of Solaris was known for training and preparing light elves to weave and bend light magic a cut above the rest. While their sister guild, the House of Lunathea focused on the raising of priests and priestesses meant to put the kingdom at ease with their abilities to soothe and protect the kingdom and its people, The House of Solaris’ purpose was to create far-reaching soldiers meant to eliminate threats before they were too close to home.

Once in the guild, Antaris seldom saw his childhood friends, even when he put forth the effort to make time for them. He dreaded the training and meditation he was required to do and it only became worse when he was eventually moved into the guild’s barracks. At the guild, he learned what he would be offered in normal elven schooling but with an additional focus on the study of magic and the blessings Solaris gifted upon the world. He was given time off but it was always staggered against everyone else. Still, he attempted to make friends as he always had but was somewhat of the oddball of the bunch. It’s not like he chose to be there. The training wasn’t as spectacular as he would have liked it to be. Learning to use magic was one thing, however, simply learning about magic was far less intriguing in Antaris’ young years. The curriculum made sense for the time. Avalia was at peace. The only threats consisted of large creatures that steered too close, bandits, and an occasional party of green-skins that sought to pillage neighboring villages. That was the case for a long time, a few hundred years to be exact… And then the Malthemoor Kingdom came in like a bat out of hell.

Antaris was both excited and wary of the war declared by his banished elf-kin. He’d get to actually do something that didn’t just amount to a simple flash in the dark but also knew his Kingdom hadn’t prepared for something like this. The idea of Malthemoor succeeding was a bit ridiculous until they took Roshmi City and the trading hubs on the seas. Deploying to distant battles in need of Sun Elf Kingdom soldiers never promised a safe return home, so every time Antaris was sent forth, he fought with everything he had. He even established a bit of a name for himself due to the magical wrath he unleashed on his foes. “The Beacon.”

His enemies always knew he was coming with his noticeable flashes of light in battle. It gave them a momentary advantage. They could prepare for his advancement. Unfortunately for them, the real problem was stopping Antaris once he reached them. A mage that truly weaponized his magic even if he wasn’t a master of all its capabilities.

Alas, the victor of the war was Malthemoor, and the word was spreading about their king wanting the heads of every notable Sun Elf soldier that fought against them. Antaris the Beacon being one of them. Antaris had been a powerful mage that fought dutifully for his kingdom, but this elf was not about to have his head chopped off as a reward for going above and beyond with his service. And so, he rid himself of his uniform and even cast away his name as he set on starting a new life. He traveled about, gallivanted foolishly, tried drugs out just because, started a business or so he says and even purchased a slave for sale to make life easier. However, it did not matter where he traveled or what he did, the dark elves were in power and it weighed down against the people of Avalia. Hope seemed lost, almost completely, until he was met by an old family friend that piqued his interest. A rebellion.

“Now that sounds like suicide! Is that really your plan? It’s cool but… definitely suicide… I’m in!”

Combat and Magic Stat Creation:

The below questions will ask you to name the number of years of experience with certain stats and to describe your athletic behavior. The GMs will present your character’s stats based on the information you provide below. Please try to keep this realistic. We will call you out if it sounds implausible. We may reach out to you for additional questions if need be.

Fitness Level:
⋆ Mister Luum wouldn’t be labeled as an athlete aside from his ability to move about. He isn’t physically strong but he’s surprisingly more agile than most due to not being equipped to resist too many attacks with his lack of armor. His physical stamina falls in the range of average but can mentally push himself when needed. Mister Luum has always seen his physical prowess as simply an accessory to his magical abilities. To him, his body is the base for the weapon that is his magic. Mobility is key to him

What are your character’s physical strengths?
⋆ His mobility for the most part.
⋆ Mister Luum is proficient at using a staff as a defensive weapon.

What are your character’s physical weaknesses?
⋆ Mister Luum is fit but not for strength in attacking with weapons or his fists. He could throw a punch, sure, but don’t expect it.
⋆ Mister Luum isn’t as durable as he wished he could be and relies on dodging or magical feats to endure or avoid attacks.

Years of Experience:

Weapon(s):
⋆ Mister Luum has used a staff with the House of Solaris for over 200 years, though its primary use is channeling magic.

Hand-to-Hand Combat: Mister Luum doesn’t fight with his hands.

Years of Magic Experience:

⋆ Offensive Photokinesis: 30 years of dedicated time with high progress
⋆ Illusions (includes invisibility): 20 years of dedicated time with low progress*
⋆ Shielding: 30 years of dedicated time

Best Abilities:

Light Magic (Offense Photokinesis)

Luum's Stats

Physical Stats

Strength: ⬤⬤◯◯◯

Ground Speed: ⬤⬤⬤◯◯

Stamina: ⬤⬤⬤⬤◯

Dexterity: ⬤⬤⬤⬤◯

Durability: ⬤⬤◯◯◯

---

Combat Stats

Staff Combat: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤

Hand to Hand Combat: ⬤⬤◯◯◯

---

Magic Stats

Offensive Photokinesis: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤

Illusions (includes invisibility): ⬤⬤⬤⬤◯

Shielding: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤

Avalia

King of Avalia, Kyros Zanithel

Kyros Zanithel ⋆ 802 ⋆ Male ⋆ Dark Elf

Appearance

Height:

6’3

Build:

Athletic and having a lean muscular body. His body seems to be geared toward functional fitness rather than just strength or speed.

Hair Color:

Ashen

Hair Length

slightly past his shoulders

Eye Color:

Amber

Skin Tone:

Gray

Distinguishing features:

”None”

---

Psychology

Sexuality:

Heterosexual

Personality:

Treatment towards others

⋆ Introverted. Though his duty requires him to address his people often. Kyros must always take time to decompress by his lonesome.
⋆ Selfless.
⋆ Neither kind or mean, Kyros is fair.
⋆ Physically affectionate to no one.
⋆ Untrusting

Reaction in Situations
⋆ Remains calm.
⋆ Patient
⋆ Brave.
⋆ Nervousness is never shown, at least on the surface.
⋆ He often claims his decisions were made by “the gods” themselves or “the only way”.

⋆ Charisma level: He has the ability to influence others and meet people where they are. Kyros would much rather disarm someone with his words.
⋆ No sense of humor.
⋆ Sane

---

Background

Occupation

King of Avalia

Current Equipment: His sword “Umber” is always by his side but his equipment changes based on what he’s preparing for.
Current Location: Malthemoor
Current Companions: N/A

Brief History: To be born a dark elf, even a prince, amounted to little in the eyes of Avalians who did not share the blood of the tainted. Kyros had not been the strongest of his siblings, nor the sharpest. In fact, the elf’s only notable trait in childhood was simply his compassion toward others. The ability to connect. It was this overlooked trait of his that set him apart from the rest of his siblings. A trait his father eventually saw fitting for what was in store for their people. No matter how strong, a king cannot defeat the world. No matter how clever, a king cannot bring others to heed him. However, a king who has the hearts of those who follow him has the ability to conquer everything in his path.

Yet no one could have foreseen his ability to connect to something… No. Someone beyond the realm of mortals. A being considered a demigod from the most ancient of scriptures. Kyros’ chance encounter with the draconic demigod that lorded over the element of darkness might have ended differently with his peers or siblings. Perhaps it was not chance but rather, destiny. The young elf was barely 30 when he found himself facing her. Even as young as he was when meeting such a being, Kyros’ gentle persistence gave an impression that had not been felt in millennia past. And in time, Kyros connected with the ancient presence on a level deeper than even she may be reluctant to admit.

Even with his intimate contact with such a being ordered to be forbidden by his father, Kyros disobeyed. She was the embodiment of darkness after all. How could a dark elven prince resist? Surprisingly, it was not magic she taught him. It was the nature of his competitors… His enemies. And it was not long until his father saw it best for his son to know these enemies. To see their kingdoms, to know their people, to experience their cultures firsthand. It was all coincidental… It was perfect. Perhaps it truly was destiny.

So, Kyros explored Avalia. He learned of its cities, of its people, and of the pulse that beat through it so vivaciously. A pulse that lacked the touch of darkness. This absence had always remained the case but was not something that could not be changed. It required steep hardship, the dire price of war, and Kyros did not hesitate to pay it. Kyros’ first act for Malthemoor was to absorb all other dark elven settlements. This included what he considered the lesser kingdom located on the southern bay of Daka Island. Kyros tried to be merciful but their lack of submission led to the execution of their ruling family. Kyros needed his people united before he set his sights on the other kingdoms.

There was little warning as the declaration of war had been the first strike on the Roshmi Kingdom and the occupation of its far-faring northern islands. Though the Roshmi Kingdom had been blindsided by the Malthemoor Kingdom, the Demihuman kingdom and its lesser cities were met with nothing greater than conventional military might. No assassinations, psychological warfare, or disruption of the powers that controlled the Roshmi Kingdom. It was one army defending itself against another. King Zanithel could have sacked Roshmi Kingdom in more ways than one could choose to cut into a burstag steak but he chose against them all. This gambit… It could only be made a soft-hearted fool or an emotionally intelligent genius. To fight fairly… No no no. To win fairly. The Roshmi Kingdom, now Roshmi City, was taken the way it was to demonstrate just how serious the Malthemoor Kingdom was in their conquest, and have the newly captured demihuman settlements work to their advantage. Trade on both ground, air, and sea in the east was completely theirs. The largest amora port was now under their control. And lastly, the opportunity to enlist in aiding Malthemoor in their conquest was left on the table for those still itching to fight or even provide valuable intelligence on the other kingdoms Aquarian had not budged but that was expected. It was also planned for.

Kyros wished he could take every kingdom as he had Roshmi but that was not possible with the others. They were too stubborn. Too set in their ways. Like weeds in the vast garden he sought after, they had to be torn out with conviction. There couldn’t be mercy with them, as he knew how they’d fight… They would fight with everything they had. If compassion meant meeting someone where they were. He’d do just that.

Saving the Sun Elf Kingdom last would have been fitting for any other Malthemoor king and his people would revel in the decision but Zanithel saw this kingdom fit to be struck down before anyone else. The Sun Elf kingdom was surrounded and Aldrakh was helping to keep their Dwarven and Fairy allies on one side of the great river that split the mainland in half. Kyros almost pitied those responsible for banishing his people. To see their kingdom fall apart from within as leaders took bribes while their soldiers fought so bravely on the battlefield. To cut such a malformed head from a fit and powerful body was difficult to witness, even if it spelled another victory for his people. Unlike the demihumans, Kyros was not gentle with his light magically inclined counterparts. He saw it fit to execute and imprison all military officers and proclaimed heroes. It was better to have martyrs for the weak, than leaders that could elevate them.

Kyros was sure the rest of the world stood still when the Sun Elf Kingdom fell. The forces that were barely keeping a foothold against the River Fairy Kingdom and Ironhold would now find reinforcements at their backs. By the time the latter felt Malthemoor’s might, east Avalia had been occupied by Malthemoor, including the Winter Fairy Village. Ironhold had never been successfully besieged but that’s because it truly was impossible for an army to get through its walls. This was a fact even Kyros accepted. He knew he couldn’t grip pride so tightly to his breast. One of his most notable officers, General Zarra pulled back her forces from Ironhold to prepare the next course of action. With dozens of barrels of black powder, dwarven weapons, and Ironhold military uniforms, Kyros incurred the wrath of Flamythera, a red dragon that shared the mountain range with the impregnable fortress. Flamythera attacked Ironhold’s gates with flames hot enough to melt the outer portions of the city and even went as far as to storm the inside of the fortress to return the same damage done to her lair. After causing a partial cave-in incinerating many of Ironhold’s frontline men, Kyros granted Flamthera the title “Herald of Ashes.” As soon as the vengeful dragon left Ironhold, Malthemoor marched in to overtake the battered shelter left behind. After taking Ironhold, Zarra was named the “Iron Breaker”

All that was left were the tenacious fairies. Burning the forests was a tactic Kyros would never take. Destroying it would kill any chance of subjugating the Forest Fairies. However, choosing to spare the forest, left the fairies with nigh-unlimited use of their chlorokinesis Malthemoor’s forces were devastated but continued. It took nearly a year to take the River Fairy Kingdom, but it was thanks to a decision made in the conquering of Roshmi. A demihuman scientist came forward with a method of harming the fairies to a point of surrender. A biological attack that Malthemoor could treat. Kyros did not hesitate to extort the kingdom as the urge to burn it down entirely crept into his mind.

Last to fall was the Aquarian Kingdom. It was not due to their might or even the lack of accessibility into their kingdom. Their true weakness was their indecisiveness. Their complacency in their security! Their nation was already under stress due to trade with other settlements being closed off to them. All it took was tainting their waters. Eliminating a large percentage of their food source to defeat them. No weapons were raised, and no blood spilled. Simply poison dropped.

With no other Kingdom or territory formidable enough to stop Malthemoor, they moved on to settle the new nation they had conquered. They paid Aldrakh for their participation in the war and Dugmaghord for remaining involved. Both orc settlements were left to retain their societies as they saw fit to an extent. Orcs without rites have been allowed to serve in the Avalian Army and receive a specialized rite.

With Avalian united under a single kingdom, all previous royal lineages were made defunct in status and relevance. As he was crowned Avalia’s king, he kept the goal of uniting Avalia in his forethought. Each settlement was overseen by dark elven officers with handpicked advisors native to that settlement. Dark elves would retain the power while the advisor informed the overseers of cultural customs and the societal inner workings of the respective settlement. This practice worked in all settlements until a River Kingdom insurgency loyal to the Millinia royal family rose against him. Kyros made sure the group and the family were snuffed out by any means necessary. Some were jailed, some were executed, and others grew to learn what it means to wield darkness. Just as they all would.

King Kyros Zanithel. A man prepared to make the world into something he can both love and be proud of. For in his heart of hearts, there is no other way. Darkness is peace. Darkness is freedom. Darkness is power.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Derby-King Outfit

Time: 3 p.m.
Location: Edin Theater
Interaction: @SausagePat Ruby, @Conscripts Dr. John Williamson
Mention:

---

Lorenzo’s eyes were again affixed to the theater stage, prepared to witness the rest of the play. I wonder what the duke will do. His daughter must be so embarrassed with such a silly entrance! Lorenzo smirked wishing he had a sweet snack to munch on while he sat with anticipation… and perhaps a bit of constipation as he came down from his opium high.

“Huh?” The utter escaped him as he noticed Dr. Williamson approach with the heaviest steps he’d heard all day. That was quite the feat considering being the host of a horse race earlier this afternoon. The doctor beelined to the young girl who had passed out right beside him and began to examine her. He watched the doctor check her pulse as he had. Okay. Lorenzo nodded silently at the doctor’s action, yet at the same time he wondered why he was even here. For one, this was not a hospital! Dr. Williamson was lacking the eir of professionalism that matched his reputation. Second, the girl was simply taking a nap in the theater, which is quite the normal thing! Who hasn’t gotten shut-eye in a theater?

If that wasn’t bad enough, the doctor started to shake her by her shoulders. What the- What the hell is this man doing?! Lorenzo furrowed his brows, now quite disagreeable with the doctor’s actions. Lorenzo began to set Kier down on the ground and pat the obedient ferret on the head before he witnessed an atrocity. Dr. Williamson had begun slapping the young woman in the face!

“That’s quite enough!” Lorenzo roared as he moved to push Dr. Williamson away from the girl as hard as he could. “I don’t care if we’ve had healthy interactions before or that you are the grand doctor you claim to be! I will not sit here and watch you physically assault this sleeping woman, Dr. Williamson!”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Derby-King Outfit

Time: 3 p.m.
Location: Edin Theater
Interaction: @SausagePat Ruby
Mention:

---

Lorenzo remained seated as the young woman shouted back at him, pouring her heart out about how much it took to make the large hat on her head. With the two being at the very front of the theater, most eyes were on their altercation. If it were possible for Lorenzo to feel the stares of the audience it would be incredibly overwhelming. It was a gift that he couldn't, as he could remain focused on the girl in front of him. He wanted to feel for her in a way. He truly did understand her plight. However, this was how life worked at times. You could put every fiber of your being into something you want to be successful and still fail. It could be your own ineptitude but it usually just came down to something out of your control.

His face went from its stern disposition to a softer expression. Perhaps it was sympathy or even empathy for her. Whichever it was, he thought it best not to rile the girl up any more than he had. He was going to give her a response in kind but the girl seemed to bounce back and almost accept being the possible runner-up of the hat contest. Well, that was fast. That's a good thing, right?

And then the strangest thing happened. She took the vacant seat next to him and… went to sleep? Lorenzo raised a brow at her, wondering if she could have been taking the same drugs he had. It wouldn't be impossible. He placed two fingers against the side of her neck. The warmth and presence of a pulse were enough for him to remain calm. As a kind gesture, Lorenzo took her hat off her head and placed it on her lap so it wouldn't fall off her head and become ruined. With that, he sighed.

“And the day is far from over, Kier.” He continued petting his ferret just as he was before.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Derby-King Outfit

Time: 3 p.m.
Location: Edin Theater
Interaction: @SausagePat Ruby
Mention:

---

With the first act of the humorous play concluded, Lorenzo took some time to think about today’s events and how they had transpired while he pet Kier lying comfortably on his lap. Woke up in a bed of my favorite tulips… Then the altercation at the park… I didn’t even get to have a single waffle… The horse race went well, I think… Then there was the- Lorenzo’s reminiscing was cut off by the approach of a face that was starting to become far too familiar. He was beginning to look up at her when he noticed a glob of drool fall and land on his left shoe. My shoe… Charlotte gifted these to me last spring and now… Lorenzo frowned as he simply stared at the bubbled clear and slightly viscous liquid just sitting on the toe of one of his favorite shoes. However, that did not keep him from listening to the young woman rant about her not winning the hat contest. He thought of letting this all pass, maybe saying some kind words to set the woman at ease. There was plenty he could do to de-escalate the situation.

“...That horse hat? A complete cliche!”

But that was the last straw. Kier’s petting had ceased almost immediately.

“Complete cliche?” His eyes finally met hers, fiercer than mostly anyone’s ever seen. “Complete cliche?! What’s a complete cliche is thinking you can make a hat from scratch look like the rest except bigger! Sure, your hat may have gotten close to securing second place, but let me tell you, dear girl. Let me tell you! That ‘horse hat’ was many many many leagues above the rest! You… You don’t even know how difficult of a decision that was for me. I had Lyra Carris, a woman that not many others can compare to! I denied her and her hat that I can only describe as passion incarnate! Not only that but poor Crystal. A young woman that I consider my own daughter at times. A delicate orchid that managed to attend after her home was desecrated just this morning! But my appreciation for art would not allow me to be biased and sadly so…” Lorenzo’s eyes winced as he felt a minor twinge of heartache. “I’m sorry that you did not win, but if you cannot see why that young woman won the contest, then I’m afraid you’ll never know what it means for a perfectly bloomed flower to stand out amongst the others in its bed.” Lorenzo’s tone had softened some but he remained stern.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

---

Wulfric arrived at the race track just in time to catch the finale. While the crowd was busy being enthralled by the last, intense segment of the race, he casually ascended the stands to the top row. There, he observed the galloping horses with interest. It was an exciting ending.

Curious about the victor, he took out the spyglass to observe her more easily.

Might as well use the item for its mundane function as well.

But while he was at it, he did a few sweeps of the crowd, taking note of anything intriguing.

After the conclusion of the race, some time was wasted for the hat contest. Bored, he watched those gathered with his little trinket.

When the event concluded, Lorenzo Vikena – the man he’d been wanting to speak to – took his leave from the announcer’s box. Wulfric followed, stopping the man once he was close enough.

He ensured the location they spoke in was, if not entirely private, at least less exposed compared to where Lorenzo had done his announcing from.

“Duke Vikena,” he greeted, cooly polite. “I see that at the very least, you can manage some entertainment,” he commented. It was mildly sarcastic, and backhanded, but a compliment nonetheless. However, Wulfric didn’t bother acting as if he liked the other man. He was sure the duke already knew he wasn’t particularly fond of him. Even so, he could certainly act with the required professionality.

Unfortunately, the duke hadn't returned the same professionalism to the prince. Lorenzo had nearly finished his flask filled with the milk of the poppy and a sweet rum he had enjoyed mixing it with. If his slightly flushed face wasn't an indicator, the stupid pie-eating grin on his face surely was. To add to Lorenzo's disposition was the silent Kier clinging comfortably on his shoulder, staring at Wulfric with his blank beady eyes.

“Prince Wulfric! A pleasure to have you here, your grace. I didn't take you as a fan of such an event but then again, who can resist something so grand?” Lorenzo simply bowed his head, minding the ferret as he didn't wish to topple the small creature from his shoulder as he did the Alidasht royals.

Oh, this was such a mistake. How the hell was he supposed to have anything approaching a serious conversation with Lorenzo, now? Apparently, the duke was not only drunk, but - if his dilated pupils were to go by - under the influence of some other drugs, too.

Wonderful…Just wonderful.

“If it is so grand, then why are you acting like a common alleyway addict?” Wulfric couldn’t resist snarking. It was questionable just how much the supposed nobleman could comprehend in his state, however. “Is this how you think a man in your position should act?” He didn’t mean only because of his status. “You realize just how precarious your situation is, I hope,” he added, but Lorenzo kept up his stupid smile despite the verbal daggers.

“Dear prince, dear prince… Don't you see? My… hmm… My state! My state is not the product of this grand event. Rather, this grand event is the product of my state!” Lorenzo chuckled before motioning his hand toward the race track, the air filled with joyous laughter and jolly voices. “I think our kingdom has accomplished something exceptional this afternoon, all thanks to our king's choice of making me the host of such an event. I don't think even you can deny that, my splendid prince!” He took a step closer to Wulfric, the stench of rum from his breath striking the prince's senses. “Yessss?”

The prince shook his head, as much in denial as it was in disbelief. That this drunkard thought he could argue with him… “Stand back,” Wulfric ordered frostily, because Lorenzo was much too comfortable about getting into his personal space. He stared at the duke with the full expectation that he would move. Fortunately, the duke had, which might have been the wisest decision he had made since engaging with Wulfric. However, the stupid smile remained securely pasted on Lorenzo's expression.

Wulfric then set to reproving the older man. “I don’t know if you honestly believe what you are saying or if you are fooling yourself,” he sneered. Quite possibly, the duke was simply drugged out of his wits. “Events like this are popular in and of themselves. As for your contributions,” Wulfric exhaled sharply. “What you did under influence, you can do just as well if not better while sober.” He let that sink in.

“Don’t try to use the race as an excuse or justification for your habit of overindulgence,” Wulfric said sternly. “If you are a drunken mess, that is because you can’t pull yourself together,” he accused. “Yess?” he mimicked mockingly. A fitting final blow to whatever ego the duke had managed to save after so many embarrassments.

The stupid smile had died in that moment as Lorenzo absorbed Wulfric's informal reprimand. It was the truth in his words that struck him deeper than expected. The duke was used to ridicule from the likes of Count Damien, Duchess Victoria, and King Danrose, and even his late wife, yet this was different… yet familiar. In the span of two days, two young royals had addressed him with fierce criticism that was unlike the raving insults from his peers. First, Mayet Kadir and now Wulfric Danrose. Failing because you are simply awful is one thing, but failing knowing you were capable of doing better was a wound of regret that lingered and festered in the confines of one's mind.

It was also a good way to sober Lorenzo, if only a tad. He clasped his hands in front of him with the look of a boy who had disappointed his parents.

“Y-you're right… prince. My apologies. I-I could have presented myself better,” he slightly bowed his head once again.

Wulfric’s irritation dissipated as he observed the duke’s contrite reaction. “Yes, you could have,” he stated. His tone was still cold, but matter-of-fact, and much more neutral than it had been at any prior point in their meeting. “And you can,” he stressed intently. His piercing gaze was affixed on Lorenzo as he studied the older man. The silent observation was a tad over-long and perhaps unsettling. He took in the man’s posture and expression, judging his sincerity. Eventually, he must have deemed it satisfactory, as he gave a curt nod. However, his next words revealed that the duke was not yet off the hook.

“So? What will you do differently?” Wulfric prompted expectantly.

Lorenzo peered up whilst still bowing slightly, not expecting such a question.

“Um…” He cleared his throat as he adjusted his posture to properly face Wulfric. It also afforded him an additional fraction of a second to think up what to say. “Well, I guess it's as simple as not indulging in my recreational substances before an event like this one… But- I…I just find it difficult.” Lorenzo's gaze dropped as he took a deliberate breath. “No one can begin to understand what I feel and why I choose to numb that feeling… I can only promise that I will try, your highness.”

“Understand?” Wulfric hissed as anger sparked in his gaze. But he grit his teeth against it, and smoothed out his expression. Calm, he thought, warning himself. There was absolutely no need to let this become personal.

Besides, it would be hypocritical for him to preach on proper conduct if he couldn’t even control himself, now, wouldn’t it?

“Trying is nothing without the determination to succeed,” he warned. “You should make a promise to yourself that you will, then do that. No matter how difficult.”

A promise… to myself?

“And no, of course the world will not cater to you,” he scoffed. “I don’t know why you expect anyone else to care about your suffering. No one will. Nay-” he tossed his head to the side in sharp negation as something occurred to him.

“There is someone who does. Your daughter,” Wulfric emphasized, sharpened gaze boring into the duke’s. “You haven’t forgotten her, have you?” he challenged. “While you’re drowning yourself in - what, alcohol and opium?” He’d had a lurking suspicion regarding the ‘substances’ ever since he’d been exposed to Vikena’s stench. “While you are doing that, what about her?” He’d told himself he wouldn’t let this affect him personally, but it did rub him the wrong way.

“Lottie…Heavens… I-” There was a crack in his voice as the realization hit him. He gulped hard in an attempt to hold back the overwhelming urge to burst into tears. Not here. Not now. His jaw clenched as he felt his throat tighten. To know his actions were destroying the only person he loved. For Lorenzo it was like Emina all over again. No, it was worse! Charlotte did not choose him and his embarrassments. His shame. Charlotte had simply inherited the nightmare that had ended her mother's life.

“I didn't-” He choked up once more, this time with a familiar tingling in his eyes. Lorenzo was on the verge. Another wave of pain or perhaps a simple wincing of the eyes would break him. I can't! I mustn't! I WON'T!

“I didn't think of anyone but myself. Perhaps… I'll kill her too as the selfish creature that I am. No one deserves this. Me. The girl would be better off if I…” His eyes were still low as he sighed.

“Kill…” Wulfric repeated, bewildered at Lorenzo’s wild mood swings. “Is that what this is all about? You believe your late wife committed suicide because of you,” he surmised. The prince shook his head, disbelieving. “What utter nonsense.” He looked at the duke sternly, voice firm.

“If she had thought you the source of all her misfortune, she might as well have killed you rather than herself. She had the means, no doubt,” he huffed. Lorenzo finally met his gaze upon hearing his logical argument. “That she chose to end her life was her own decision. I don’t know why she did that-” he had a guess, however. He’d always thought his father’s careless public diatribe had affected the late duchess terribly. Then, in a moment of great desperation, she’d done something that couldn’t be undone. “But she was responsible for her own actions,” he stated.

“And, do you know what is truly selfish?” he stared down at Lorenzo. This time, Wulfric was the one to voluntarily take a step forward. He extended his arm, and his index finger forcefully poked at the duke’s chest. “Thinking that killing yourself is the solution. And that you would justify this as ‘for’ her…But your true reason would be to escape your own pain.” The prince shook his head. “When I asked if you have forgotten your daughter, what I meant was this: Just as you have lost your wife, she has lost her mother,” there was another poke to emphasize his point. Lorenzo's mouth was agape. The continuous poking at his chest was… unexpected.

“Yet now you believe you ought to abandon her too? Just what are you thinking, man?” There was a third, final poke before Wulfric retracted his arm. He waved it a bit wildly, because he didn’t know how the hell they’d come to this point in the conversation. “For Gods’ sakes, did you not see how desperate she was to protect you last evening?” He still did not think she should have been the one protecting her father rather than the other way around. But at the very least, he would not deny her the agency to do so.

“Are you so absorbed in your self-pity that you cannot recognize your importance to her?” He’d thought the man dysfunctional as a duke, not as a father. “If she is precious to you, then live, and strive to do better. For her sake, if not for your own.”

“B-but…” The duke gulped down the imaginary frog in his throat. “But don't you think I've been doing just that?!” He cried out as the tears finally burst free from his eyes. “Everything I do is simply wrong! Always wrong! I never wanted to topple the Alidasht royals! I didn't choose violence this morning at the park! And I just thought if I could come here to this damned horse race without feeling the grand embarrassments of these past two days, that I could pull it off! And if I didn't, I'd just be the intoxicated fool of a duke that ruined yet another of your father's events! There's something wrong with me…” His voice lowered. “And I just don't know what's right anymore. All I can do is try… Try and pray I'm doing right…” Lorenzo wiped his tears on his sleeve. “But you're not wrong, and I apologize for shouting like that. I-I just find it frustrating that I fail to simply do good for those I care for.”

The park? Wulfric sighed because there was apparently a recent incident of Lorenzo’s he was yet unaware of. He merely waved off the apology, because he felt that they were finally getting somewhere. That, and he was frankly tired; he ignored the unbecoming crying outright.

“Did I not say that you do fine when it comes to entertainment?” he questioned rhetorically. “You did ‘pull it off’, so to say…but you were also dangerously intoxicated. Why is it either all or nothing with you?” Was it a mental illness? Sheer ineptitude? A magical affliction? The causes could be multifaceted for all he knew. It also struck him that Lorenzo was acting rather like a child seeking parental guidance, or a faithful beseeching the gods, or just a man looking for some kind of a ‘master’. No wonder the likes of Calbert Damien were drawn to him.

“You should assess yourself honestly, and as objectively as possible. You cannot do this by running away from your issues.” He decided to offer some advice the duke was so obviously desperate for. “Whenever something goes wrong, you need to identify the causes. Face your weaknesses, then overcome them. Identify your strengths, and use them.” Why did something so obvious need to be said? And was Lorenzo truly expecting someone else to break it down for him? If so– “Hell, hire an advisor,” he interjected. “Or rely on your daughter; she’s much more socially sensible.”

“Advisor?” Lorenzo frowned at the suggestion as he felt adding more to his failed equation of a life could complicate things. I don't think I need that- Wait?! Edin… has an advisor. Yes, Arnold. Arnold Plannington! With his eyes slightly reddened from the crying, he raised an eyebrow at Wulfric. “That could work. However, it would need to be someone I actually listen to but I think you may be onto something... In fact, I think I already have an idea on a great selection pool.” Lorenzo's eyes were wide with realization as if experiencing a grand epiphany. “Many thanks, your highness. Your genius truly precedes you. To experience it firsthand is remarkable. You'll be a fine king, I think.” And just like that, Lorenzo was all smiles again.

Wulfric simply stared for one long moment as Lorenzo went from crying and wanting to kill himself back to grinning foolishly. Something wrong indeed. The prince felt that he’d been merely wasting time and words with the duke. Thus, his demeanour also shifted; he seemed stony and unimpressed, a denigrating tilt to his expression.

“Yet an advisor will be all the more disastrous if you cannot learn to think for yourself,” Wulfric warned frostily. Out of all the things he’d said to Lorenzo, this was the one he latched onto? To have someone else do it all for him. Just who was he so eager to let influence him and his duchy?

“In fact, since you are so confident in your selection,” he sneered, “you will present your final candidate to me. If I deem your judgement poor, I shall assign someone instead.” However, he was thinking that he might not set someone to Lorenzo, but instead of him. An official regent? An ‘advisor’? A new duke? Maybe, with the help of his daughter, something sensible could be done. Either way, Wulfric was now even more firm in his opinion that Lorenzo was ill-fitting for his position, and that any future inadvertent damage he could cause should be prevented somehow.

Finally, he moved onto a different matter; the one he’d come to address in the first place. “In a few hours, you will be attending dinner with His Majesty The Sultan, and his family. Make yourself presentable, arrive on time, and be mindful of your conduct. If - and only if - you can procure appropriate gifts, bring them. Apologize to each and every one of them for your actions. Promise that it will not happen again, and ensure that it does not.” Wulfric paused for a moment to judge if Lorenzo was even taking this in. It was especially difficult to tell given his fixed unblinking state and that smile that was just uneasy to look at from him.

“I doubt they will care if you make a fool of yourself. But if they think even for a moment that you are making a fool out of them- Well, I do not have to tell you that this should be avoided, I hope.”

“Oh, of course!” Lorenzo gave several animated nods. “I was already planning to do every bit of that. After attending the theater, I'll make all the preparations needed to ensure I undo my past transgressions to the Alidasht peoples. Great minds really do think alike, huh?” Lorenzo scratched his chin for effect.

Wulfric grimaced at that proverb. “Do not think to compare yourself to me.” The very notion was repulsive. “Ensure that you act as a duke should, and do not cause further offence.” With that parting comment, the prince took his leave.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Derby-King Outfit

Time:1 p.m.
Location: Race Track
Interaction: Hat Contest Contestants!
Mention:

---

Ruby Davis, Crystal Damien, General Lyra Carris
1 p.m.

Lorenzo had scanned the crowd in front of him, giving every single bombastic hat a few seconds of his attention. Unlike the horse race, this competition would be judged by him and only him. Considering the duke's judgment, especially under the influence of the contents of his flask, this would surely be interesting. Size, color, style, and creativity were all players in this game, and by the gods did nearly every hat have combinations of all.

“Psst. Kier, I think I may have narrowed it down to a few,” Lorenzo chuckled as he scratched his chin. “Our beloved Crystal. She is simply flaunting her favorite color in a hat that is both large and beautiful. Ooh, I can't be biased Kier. I can't. Then there's General Carris almost clashing against Crystal's. Passionate crimson flowers nested in black feathers and matching ribbons. This woman is someone who likes to win it all. And finally… that girl from the park. I… I don't know what to think of her, however, her hat is a prime candidate. The flowers and feathers decorated on top overshadow the hat itself. No one and I mean no one can scan this crowd without laying eyes on it. This is difficult indeed. Maybe I can have three winners? No, I have to choose one. I have to-”

Lorenzo abruptly paused as his eyes widened. We're his eyes deceiving him? They could have been because how did he miss such an intricate detail?! Simple in color with a dash of vibrance! The shape and style were unmatched and unique! He clutched the megaphone and brought it up to announce the winner.

“Contestants of the hat competition! You have clearly brought your best and finest hats! Yes, yes, yes! But there can only be one winner, and I have finally found them!” Lorenzo made a dramatic pause while keeping his face stern. The man appeared as if he was announcing the next heir to the throne with how seriously he took this.

“The winner of the hat contest is… YOUUUU!” He pointed toward Crystal Damien but his finger was slightly off as it aimed at someone sitting in her vicinity. “I do not know your name young woman but you with the hat depicting a regal steed on your head! YOU HAVE WON THE HAT CONTEST! Your hat shall be recorded and displayed for all to see for years to come!”

---

Time: 3 p.m.
Location: Edin Theater
Interaction:
Mention:

---

3 p.m.

Lorenzo choosing to attend the afternoon play had been planned since this morning, yet he almost felt like he should have simply gone home. The hosting of the horse race and hat competition had been unbelievably draining, and then there was his run-in with Prince Wulfric Danrose that took more out of him than he expected.

Easily taking a front-row seat due to his status, Lorenzo sat with his arms crossed in front of him while Kier rested on his lap. He heard word this play would be a comedy, so he hoped it would get a good laugh out of him. Perhaps this is exactly what he needed. Surely, it would distract him from remembering Wulfric's sharp words.

As he watched the play, he did find it quite funny. Chuckling as books erupted from Violet's dress, and surprisingly even when the Duke character arrived. Now this is what I needed!

Young Justice

Location: The Bank
Interactions: The Team

---

A sigh escaped Viktor as he watched Talos hurry up one of the stairwells after Metamorph's order which was cut off oddly at the end. I can embarrass you later… He turned his attention to Zatara and the hostages. “Something's wrong, I can feel it. But what do I do?” He muttered, his scowl hidden behind his visor. He knew something was wrong with Kila, and until there was anything else communicated he had to place Kila's last order as the priority. It was what he had been trained to do. Still, he wouldn't ignore what he heard following that order.

“Zatara, I don't wish to be redundant but please remain vigilant. We're not in the clear just yet.” Turning from him, ran to the opposite stairwell with the rifle still in hand. Coincidentally, he climbed up the stairs three at a time as well.

“A-squad, B-squad, this is Iceburn, of C-squad. I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is, the hostages on this floor are safe.”

Viktor stopped in his tracks halfway up the second flight of stairs as he listened in.

“The bad news is that Metamorph has gone, uh, AWOL? As in, have no idea where he is. And he apparently… is approaching with violent intent. And I got a goon down here with two broken arms which seems like a little much. So. Yeah. For now, I’m gonna guide these hostages out of here and…meet up with whoever’s closest?”

What is he doing?! He momentarily tightened his grip on the rifle before he decided to patch in on comms.

“Iceburn. The path to the first floor through the stairwells is clear. Meet up with Zatara.”

“Cybergirl. Attempt to locate Metamorph using the building's surveillance.”

“Mirage. you will be the first to act on anything Cybergirl reports.”

“Nymph, Stormcaller. Clear the fifth floor. Remain wary of the ones using the elevator.”

“Team. We can do this. Over and out.”

With that all relayed, Viktor climbed up the remaining steps to the second floor, hugging the wall beside the door. He could hear footsteps pacing about on the other side. One up but several people are breathing. Easy. Viktor pushed through the door with the rifle at the low-ready. One of the bank robbers was just turning to face the abrupt sound of Viktor's entrance. Without hesitation, Viktor fired the hardening agent at the right side of the man's torso before seamlessly firing another burst at his mouth. Viktor proceeded forward but not without continuing to fire at the robber's legs and the rest of his front torso including his weapon.

“Pathetic.” Viktor was only a foot away now. The robber tried to swing with his free arm but Viktor simply took a swift step back, allowing the momentum of the desperate motion to send the man toppling over. His muffled yells and squirming on the ground were mostly ignored except for the gray boot that was firmly planted on his back.

“Talos. I took one down on the other side of the second floor. We should be clear here. Inform any hostages on your end to head down to Zatara and make your way to the fourth floor.” Viktor dropped his weapon. Turned to the hostages who were still huddled on the floor.

“All of you. Head downstairs to the lobby. There's a celebrity magician there that will ensure you're safe. Go!” His order was taken seriously by the hostages who were quick to get up and run to the doors of the stairwell without question. Firing the rifle at the robber's free hand to pin him on the ground, Viktor followed the hostages to the stairwell. This won't be like last time. I'll ensure it