@HedgeHawk Are you still open for sheets? I would be super interested. I have a few different ideas so if you’re open to it, we can discuss on pm :)
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Same time, same place.
Cairo smiled carefully at the new girl in welcome, her mouth closed and slightly pointy. The other two started chatting lightly, slipping effortlessly into that sort of small talk that never came easily to Cairo, the girl. Cairo, the spy, however, could engage even the most guarded of her marks in conversation, flitting seamlessly from one topic to the next. But the girl herself, was more awkward then that. That’s why, when she was given an opening, a chance to introduce herself, her nervousness came out in short, clipped sentences. “Cairo.” She extended her hand to clasp the Asian chick’s one, her grip firm.
Before much more could be said, a boy breezed by them, displacing the other girls a little. Cairo, built as robustly as she was, barely shifted. He rang the doorbell, and the assembled group waited. Another boy had joined by the time the anticipation tinged silence has slowly morphed into tension. Finally, the door swung open to reveal a boy— no, man— boy-man standing in the doorway eating some cereal carelessly. He looked Indian, or Middle Eastern, with the lazy air characteristic of the many fresher boys who populated UK universities. He waved them in as he turned further into the building. Curious, Cairo stepped away from the sidewalk, and past the boy who’d pressed the doorbell, into the house proper. Her bags were placed neatly to one side of the living room. It was an open plan, modern space with the living room bleeding effortlessly into the kitchen. Not that it’s a hardship to make it look effortless since there are only two colours to speak of in this house, she thought to herself.
He gave a little spiel, with the barest of information actually revealed, in that same careless voice that matched the rest of his persona. At the announcement that they would be choosing their rooms for themselves, Cairo let out an internal sigh of frustration. Toss a couple of unfamiliar people into a group, and there was bound to be some tension. None of that community spirit has been created, nor the bonds of friendship so she thought it would be too much to ask to get them to decide on this in an orderly way. But she’d try. “Thanks, Rabindar. About the rooms,” with this she turned to face the rest of the students, “why don’t we all individually check them out and meet back here in 5 minutes to decide who gets what, based on if certain people have any preferences.” Although she didn’t know it, she looked pretty intimidating as she stared the rest of them down, her eyes icy, and her resting b*tch face firmly in place.
Location= London Heathrow. Time= REDACTED
Cairo smiled icily at the guard as she waved him towards the awaiting trolley, letting him drag the last of her oversized bags onto it. To him, and the cluster of various British guards at Heathrow, she looked like another entitled, rich diplomat’s daughter. What they didn’t know was under the shoes and clothes they thought were the only occupants of her bags was a veritable arsenal of weaponry. Her mother had managed to wrangle enough favours to extend some limited diplomatic privileges for Cairo this time. So, Cairo had to play the part.
Waving a hand imperiously forward, she sauntered towards the exit, searching for her ride. The itinerary The Academy had given her, and that she’s subsequently burned, had mentioned a car with French diplomatic plates. She scanned the car park before she saw a black car with the plates the itinerary had mentioned. The driver, in a pressed black suit, unfolded himself from the car and came up to greet her. “Miss Lalatovic,” he greeted as he pulled open the door and gestured inside, “Please.” She barely nodded as she slid inside. Just as the door was about to shut, she spoke, as if in afterthought. “Oh, tell the man to place the bags in the truck will you? And hurry! I haven’t much time.” With the driver’s agreement, the door shut and she breathed an internal sigh of relief. While this might have been an easy task, acting the part of a stuck up, entitled b*tch was never her favourite. But, needs must. She pulled out her phone, and slipped on her Airpods as she dialled up her dad.
“Hello *Tata!” She exclaimed as she smiled fondly. In the background she heard the howling of the wind. After a second of listening to the wind whistling past and crackling of the phone, her father’s voice came through clearly. “*Draga moja, have you landed safely?” And here her father slipped into Serbian, as the sound of the wind quieted down. “Are you in London now? How far from Oxford are you?”
“Yes Tata”, she replied in Serbian as well. “I’m sitting in the car that Mama procured. We haven’t started driving yet you idiot,” she added, fondly. “You’re the one who said to call, and I quote, ‘the second you land’” At the muffled sound of the driver’s door opening, her voice chilled considerably as she asked, “And where are you?”
“Yes, well you never listen to me so I thought why would you start not?” Her father’s familiar laugh travelled through her Airpods as she fought her instinctive reaction to laugh with him. “Ehh your mother and I are mountain climbing. She got some time off work so I thought why not? Oh! Lemme see if I can find her.” As her father's voice trailed away and she heard him moving to find her mother, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Even on an encrypted call, and on her highly secure phone, her dad insisted on playing the charade the bored husband of a high profile diplomatic wife.
In the interim, the car had rolled into gear and smoothly made its turn onto the road away from the crowded airport and towards Oxford. Finally the sound of her mother’s voice filled the phone as she too rattled off the same questions, the only difference being Cairo’s interrogation was in French this time. “*Ma petite chou! How was your flight? Did you find the car alright?”
“Yes Maman. Of course I did.” She added an exasperated sigh for good measure, knowing her mom knew she was faking. “The flight was fine. The ride from the airport to Oxford should take longer than getting her.” Rolling her eyes, she made eye contact with the driver. Gotcha! Despite the appearance of privacy, she knew he’d heard every word. Although she doubted there was much use to this charade, she’d rather keep the illusion of a slightly dysfunctional family as long as she could. It was one that had served her family well for many years, and she wasn’t about to let it slip now.
Information was power, and power wasn’t something she wanted to so carelessly give away. Who knew which agency he served or if he served one at all. It was always better to be safe than sorry, but her instincts told him that he served some agency. Which one, she didn’t know. But from his eyes to his mannerisms, it all pointed at training and forced carelessness. She pretended to hastily cut in with a quick, “Ok, well I have to go! I promised Jessica I’d call her.” With an affected insincere smile, she concluded her charade with a flourish. Hanging up, she tapped out a ‘k’ to her mom, knowing she’d get the message. Switching to Spotify, she put on ‘Drew Barrymore’, a song that had been stuck in her head for the last couple of days and turned to look out the window.
Location= Oxford. Time= REDACTED
From the change in pace, she knew that they’d just entered the city limits. From her years of training, she’d been taught to sleep and fall out of sleep in the blink of an eye. Any shift in rhythm would alert her. Giving it a couple more minutes, she made a big fuss of waking up and looking outside in surprise. Acting shocked that she had suddenly found herself in Oxford. God. She should have been a f*cking actress. At last, the car rolled to a stop outside a house, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It was, frankly, an ugly building. She preferred the older styles of houses, not the modern cr*p that passed for houses nowadays.
“Miss, we’ve arrived. Should I get the bags for you?” The driver had made a show of pressing the button for the intercom. She simply raised a brow before turning her attention to her phone. The driver clambered out, and pulled the door of the car open. She gracefully exited the car and looked at the house that would be hers for the next three years, if all went well. A girl was standing outside, with no bags in sight. She was really pretty, fitting Cairo’s type for sure. From the corner of her eye she saw the driver bring her bags around the back, and assumed that they’d hopefully be put in her room or something. Cairo went towards the doorway and nodded at the girl, unsure of what to say. Well this is awkward. I should probably say something. And yet, nothing came to mind.
*Tata=dad (as you probs guessed from context)
**Draga moja=my darling (f)
*(kept it in French ‘cause it sounds weird in English) Ma petite chou= my little cabbage (f)
* chou chou=cabbage cabbage (idk why French endearments are so weird)
I don't have a discord for this role play. IF someone would like to make one that is great, but sadly I don't have the skill set to confidently create one.
Yeah I can make one (I think...)
Edit: Made one: discord.gg/tRqaZbN
@World Traveler Oh ok that makes sense! Then the problem of conflicting loyalties doesn't come into play if they're only Verità agents. :) This is going to be so much fun!
Welcome aboard @Infernal Flame!
Happy to be aboard! Also asking this question here, instead of via pm, in case others have a similar query: Are they (meaning the parents and our future spylings) part of Verita or native intelligence corps? Or both?
The Ball
August 25th, Evening | Auleili Foa’i, Aruna Shirazi, Edgar Sarohardt
Talia gave another smile, resembling a grimace more than anything, before she unsubtly extricated herself from the clutches of the Thelian nobles who surrounded her. After she had created a towering pile of rich, foreign food on her plate, she retreated to a small table caged by empty seats. Appearing absorbed in her dinner, she took that time to assess the people in the room, easily identifying the warriors from the nobles. Her six fellow Nantegans were clearly distinguishable from the rest, with their bare skin and colorful festive dress. But saddled with the responsibility of leadership, and with a contingent of all-male and mostly unfamiliar warriors— with the unfortunate exception of Tama— Talia felt a great divide between herself and the rest of the Nantegan warriors. And she was sure Tama, one of the boys in her village who, to this day, disliked her growing role in the warrior class, would do his utmost best to further widen that divide.
Taking advantage of her momentary lapse in concentration, a pack of nobles descended on her, darting questions at her in an unsteady rhythm. Feeling very much like prey, and her attackers the predators, she tried to answer the increasingly catty and snide comments as diplomatically as possible. However, her patience soon ran out, quickly replaced by mounting disgust. Unlike the twisted Thelian and Alovians, lies did that lend themselves well to the tongues of Nantegans. Within her society, words meant what they said. They weren’t layered with fake compliments and hidden meaning. Unable to take it anymore, she abandoned her food and stood up, a quick excuse falling from her lips as she scanned the room for the escape route she had noted earlier. A skilled strategist, and an awkward guest at these foreign parties, she had already noted the pair of doors that appeared to lead to a balcony that currently was not teeming with people. Although she wasn’t sure if there would be anyone there, now that she was standing, she had to make a decision fast. Darting towards those double doors, she burst through them.
Although more polluted than her home, at least here the sight of the distant trees and the twinkling stars, the same ones that shone over her family that night, washed away the last of her disgust. Her attention shifted, after the fraction of a second it had taken her to look at the night sky, towards the lone figure standing at the balcony.
“Oh sorry! I hope I’m not disturbing you. ” She smiled a bit uncomfortable, as she took the measure of the person in front of her. She hadn’t really planned, nor wanted much company. Her companion, with an androgynous figure, seemed from the back as either male or female. The only thing Talia was certain was that they were from the Baldori tribe, distinguishable through the particular style of dress.
Aruna leaned against the balcony’s stone railing instead of sitting upon it as she had been earlier, taking a moment to mentally prepare for her return to the party. In all honesty, she would have preferred to stay out here for the rest of the evening but instead, here she was, trying to convince herself to at least give the festivities another try since there could be decent company somewhere. It was simply a matter of finding the few in the sea of unpleasant people. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the double doors behind her bursting open, the music and noise louder for just a moment before the rattling of doors slamming shut reached her ears. She gripped the stem of her empty glass a bit tighter and slowly turned to take in the appearance of the other woman that had unknowingly joined her.
Her dark hair was in a spiral of curls, slightly pulled up with flower accents tucked into each side which almost created a crown effect with the dangling shells between both sides. The woman’s face held a natural beauty that didn’t need much to enhance it but the most noticeable and striking feature was the swirl of tattoos along her chin. If all of that wasn’t an indication that the woman was here on behalf of the Nantegan people then the tribal style of her dress would have been a dead give away. Aruna took notice that she was probably one of the few she had been admiring earlier for being themselves while also trying to appease the others in the ballroom.
Aruna gave a small bow of her head to show respect and gave a light smile,”Not at all, I was simply taking a moment to enjoy the view.” she answered, deciding it was better not to add in the reason for enjoying view was to avoid everyone else. It would not make the young woman feel better about being on the balcony too and Aruna didn’t want to hurt the woman’s feelings. ”Would you care to join me? Or would you rather be left to your own devices?” she asked politely, ready to remove herself if needed.
For a moment, the music of the party grew louder again, and then subsided with a faint click to reveal a quiet, satisfied chuckling as the door out to the balcony closed. A man wearing a Thelannian Captain’s dress uniform, with a five o’clock shadow and a broad, stupid grin on his face was looking down at a very large, very full glass of wine in each hand. He was like a cat who’d just got the cream. Then, he looked up, and his face fell. His mouth opened as if to speak, he looked back over his shoulder for a moment like he could still escape, but decided against it and turned back to them, and then - sheepishly - he smiled.
“Erm. Sorry. These aren’t both for me.” Edgar said, a little too specific a denial to be true. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here. Not that I mind, of course, you both seem…” his speech wandered off for a moment as he took a better look at the pair of them, and his smile became more genuine, “well, you both seem perfectly charming. If you don’t mind the company yourselves, of course.” Edgar finished, taking a sip of the chill, sweet, white wine in the left glass.
Her attention turned away from the woman before her to the man that had decided to join them on the balcony. The large goofy grin of satisfaction on his ruggedly handsome face almost made her want to smile in return. Instead, her gaze locked on the two large glasses of wine in each of his hands and inwardly cursed herself. Why in the heavens had she not thought of that!?! Oh right, she had been dealing with that unpleasant woman. It just made her more frustrated with the situation that had befallen her earlier. She didn’t have to wait long for that frustration to fall away though and she actually had to place a hand on her lips not to laugh. The second his gaze landed on the two of them, his expression was simply priceless. It seems he had thought he was alone or was hoping for such.
Aruna felt her lips curve into a small smile as she watched him glance over his shoulder for a moment. It made her curious if he planned to flee from them but when he turned to focus on them once more with a sheepish smile instead of the full blown one as earlier, she figured he had made a choice. It was his first statement that had her raising a brow, it had come to quick which meant that it was most likely the exact opposite. Not that she would ever blame him, it was pretty genius if she said so herself. It was the genuine smile and smooth flattery that made her oh so tempted to tease him a bit and if her plan worked then how was she supposed to resist. ”I wouldn’t mind pleasant company such as you. I have to say though, if one of those glasses really isn’t for yourself and hasn’t been claimed by another, I would be happy to take the other off of your hands.”
Edgar’s grin widened, in that stiff, frustrated, adorable sort of way that a smile might tighten when someone realised they’ve been caught doing something they ought not to have been. For another moment, he looked back at the party - less like he was considering an option and more like faux regret - before slowly striding into the conversation proper.
Internally; Fuck. My wine.
”Of course, my good,” there was a slight pause and a faint wrinkle crossing Edgar brow as he tried to find some confidence in ascertaining his new drinking partner’s sex, and completely failed to, “sir.” He finished with no more than half a second’s delay. Baldori women usually wore less. He pressed the glass deftly into his- her? His? - hand, their calloused skin meeting for a brief moment. Whoever he was, he had delicate hands, even if his skin was rough.
”Please forgive my manners, my name is Edgar.” The smile relaxed again, no more obvious than a microexpression but a world of difference to the landscape of his face.
Talia pre-emptively raised her arms as she noticed the man in front of her shift to leave. “Oh no no no! You don’t have to leave. If anything I can go if you want some peace. But otherwise, I’d love to join you!” After taking stock of the clothing she realised that the person she was talking to was, in fact, a man, despite his feminine features. While none of the Nantegan men had this build, she had seen some Alovian men resemble him in build and stature. She made her way towards the balcony, and pressed her palms towards the balcony rail as she took in the view. Just as she angled her head towards her companion, prepared to try her best at small talk the doors banged open again.
Silhouetted against the light from the ball was a tall, well-built man dressed in what, Talia guessed, was a uniform of some kind. It differed from what she’d seen Alovian uniforms while pointed at the fact that he was probably Thelian. He was clutching two glasses of wine and looking, for all intents, like he was running away from the ball. Talia suppressed a smirk. The three of them were warriors, uncomfortable and unused to the gilded life at court. And she was sure that the two people in her company were volunteers for the quest as well. “By all means, join us. We are all escaping from the party I presume.” She watched the Thelian relinquish his wine glass to the Baldori with a slight sense of mourning, although he cheerfully bounced back into the conversation. “Pleased to meet you Edgar. I’m Talia. Are you joining the Royal Plea as well?”
The man’s reaction to her teasing almost made her feel a bit guilty, almost. She couldn’t feel completely horrible about it since there was that glimmer of hope if he agreed to the offer. In all honesty, she was actually doubtful it would work but a woman could dream at least. It was that thought process that had her pleasantly surprised when the words ‘of course’ left his lips and from there, admittedly, she hadn’t been paying much attention to the rest of his words. She usually might have smirked or been amused by the hesitation at trying to be polite about her ‘gender’ but that was all lost. Instead, her features lit up into a dazzling smile and her eyes glittered with happiness as she looked to the deliciously beautiful wine being offered.
The feel of large calloused hands against her own brought her focus back to the man before her, a fleeting thought of how dainty and delicate her hand felt against his fluttered mind before smiled warmly at him. She appreciated the fact he had relinquished such a treasure even when he had been regretful to do so. He could have easily refused and that said a lot about his character in her eyes. “Thank you.”, she said softly, taking a sip and humming in delight at the sweet taste. She listened to both of her new companions introduce themselves as she drank. She was not one to be rude, so she decided to introduce herself before they dug into the discussion of the journey they all may be taking together. “It is a pleasure to meet you both. My name is Arun.”
Edgar smiled at them both, a warm kind of smile, coloured a little - no doubt - by the wine he had already drank.
”Talia, one of the Nantego if I’m not incorrect? It is a profound honour to finally meet a representative of your people in person, and an even greater pleasure that it should be you in particular.” Edgar said, his voice smooth and low, like whisky and smoke. “I will be joining the Plea, yes. I must say, the company is turning out better than expected.” He grinned, turning to look between Arun and Talia.
”Ah, so that’s where I know you from. Arun, the Blade Dancer. I’ve heard a great many stories, sir.” Edgar’s grin became lascivious.
”It is almost difficult to imagine that you could be so dominant a force on the field, with hands so delicate and gentle. It’s a good thing I have heard stories, or I might have required a demonstration of your skills.”
Aruna absentmindedly dragged her finger along the rim of her glass as she drifted into thought, letting it pleasantly hum the only note it could produce until she decided to take another sip or when the rim became too dry to do so. It was nice to know that at least two of her companions on this possibly long journey were decent company and seemed to have good heads on their shoulders. She was curious to how their actions would speak for them. Personality showed a lot about a person but it was choices that ultimately gave you true insight to who they were. You can charm people with all the flattery in the world, have pretty words but at the end of the day still not be able to put actions to match. She had no doubts in their fighting skills, it would be suicide to volunteer otherwise but it would be interesting to know more about the two of them.
Her finger stilled as Edgar spoke her name, stopping the noise she had unknowingly been making and glanced over at him through hood lashes, the corner of her lip curling into a soft smirk that could almost be a tease of a smile. “Oh?” , she questioned before taking a sip and waiting to see if he would either elaborate if the the stories had been worth hearing or false as often some are. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised by receiving flirtatious flattery and by the gods if it wasn’t tempting to have some fun and dish it right back. ”Hmm, a pity that you took the stories for their word. It would have been a pleasure to demonstrate exactly how skilled my hands are, no matter how delicate and gentle they may be. Perhaps when there is a moment’s rest in our journey you might demonstrate what those hands of yours can do.” Aruna practically purred before turning her attention onto Talia.
”Hm. Delicious.” Edgar murmured in return as he took a sip of wine - ostensibly remarking on the flavour, but making direct eye contact with Arun nonetheless.
”Though I must say, I am most curious to see your fighting in action, Talia. I have never been able to meet a Nantego tribe member until now. I have heard stories of the warriors that grace your lands and I greatly admire them.”, she added gently.
She hid the smile that threatened to appear on her face through sheer force of will as she watched Edgar and Aruna flirt with each other. The Nantegans were very direct people, with very little time spent on coded flirted messages. In fact, listening to the two of them made Talia feel like she was intruding on a very private moment. After a moment, the two of them shifted their attention back onto her and she jumped in to fill the silence. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both! I’m very surprised you’ve heard of me” she exclaimed as she directed her incredulity at Edgar. Her people were notoriously quite private, rarely sharing information and stories with foreigners unprompted. [color=278723]“What type of work do you do Edgar? I can’t place the uniform. And I can’t wait to learn from you as well,” she said as she turned towards Aruna. “I’d love to exchange some fighting styles as I’ve always been curious of the Baldori. They are so graceful with their swords, a feat I have never been able to master unfortunately, ” she added ruefully as she shook her head slightly.
”My work? Well, I command a sort of-”
Just as Talia went to add more, the sounds of screams shattered the bubble the three of them had found themselves in. Instinctively, Talia went for the 2 pins placed in her hair. As she pulled them out, her hair unfurled from the large bun in the back and revealed two stiletto daggers. All of this was done in seconds as she crossed the balcony and threw open the doors to the ballroom.
The Ballroom was in utter chaos. The previously calm, uptight atmosphere was transformed as blood stained the gleaming marble floors and the nobles pushed against the walls, screams and yells crashing together. In seconds, Talia had taken stock of the room; noting the clear division between the warriors. A guard came up to her, handing her back her atlatl. Talia suppressed a laugh that bubbled in her chest, in part at that fact that she had essentially been handed a stick to defend herself with, although it was a nicely decorated stick, but also due to panic. How had she managed to wade into the middle of a civil war? She hadn’t even really wanted to go on this quest in the first place! She was just supposed to lead her people, not die on this pointless quest, come back and lead her people. Not fall in the middle of a civil war where she didn’t care what happened to either side! Well, if she was going to survive now, she might as well pick a side. And she picked the side of the guard who gave her back her atlatl because why not.
Shoving her atlatl roughly into the waistband of her skirt, she crouched down slightly as she got behind a soldier who had a decent sword. Like a viper, she thrust her dagger into his neck and grabbed his sword with her other hand. Twisting it from his grip, she pulled it out of his hands just as he slid to the ground, gurgling blood. With 3 blades, and only two hands she hastily used one of the daggers to pin a portion of her hair back from her face before she spied one of her new friends about to get a very rude surprise.
Edgar had been somewhat less subtle in his approach. He followed Talia, the hairs on the back of his neck gradually raising up like the heckles of a dog’s back, and his face gradually morphed from mild confusion to suspicion an anger - until the doors were thrown open, and it was at last confirmed.
The blood, the violence, the weapons drawn and ready, it was more than enough for Edgar - but most of all, more than anything, it was the sheer fucking treason.
”Traitors!” He roared, exploding in anger, throwing the wine out of the glass and swashing the delicate crystal on a table as he passed, leaving naught but a brutal spike of transparent razor in his hand as he shifted his grip on it and charged into the fray, seeing red.
They didn’t have time to finish their conversation, screams and cries of distress cutting them off. Aruna followed swiftly after the two, her body slipping into a defensive posture as they moved just in case they were attacked upon entrance. The sight she was greeted with didn’t please her, in fact, anger coursed through her veins at the actions taken within the ballroom. She hadn’t needed to see the events as they unfolded to understand exactly what had happened and she could only guess that the Alovians that had attended would be in trouble if not defended. Her eyes hardened, narrowing into a glare as she scanned the room as if a hawk searching for its prey while her hand slide to the dinner knife on the table beside her. She had been calculating on who would be the best one to attack and extract a sword from when movement near her side made her snap, ready to shed their blood when the sight of her own sword made her pause. She took the offering, nodding her head in thanks before dashing forward without hesitation.
She no longer needed to pick and choose her enemy which meant that the first to meet her gaze and dared to challenge her would be her target. The guard a ways before her took stance, ready for her to attack and to have the shield take the assumed oncoming blow. She didn’t let that deter her or slow her pace as she took up more speed. Instead of attacking up front, she used the polished marble to her advantage and slid at the last moment right between her opponents legs, making sure to dig her sword into their inner thigh as she went. Aruna rolled up onto her shoulder, using the momentum to spring up onto her feet and just in time to block another sword as another guard had come to defend their comrade. She went to jab at him with the dinner knife in her free hand, forcing the defending guard to jump back to avoid it. He went in for another swing of his sword which she avoid by moving into a hook kick, slamming her foot to his face and taking the disorienting moment to stab straight through his chest.
Her original target had not been forgotten though and she quickly removed herself from the corpse, moving into a back bend as she heard the heavy steps behind her. Aruna barely dodged a stab to the back by doing so but now she was in a bit of an awkward position. She was about to pull her feet off the ground as if she was going to do a handstand but with her knees so she could push her feet back as to shove her attacker away but she found that wasn’t necessary.
Talia noticed a Aruna fighting with two different soldiers, and made her way closer just as she saw two things simultaneously happen. Firstly, Aruna defeated her opponent with some of the most incredible moves Talia had ever seen, and secondly, the other soldier was attempting to literally stab her in the back. Before the soldier could make that thought a reality, Talia quickly thrust her sword through his right side. He turned shocked eyes towards her, clearly not expecting the attack. She grimaced as she pulled the sword out and turned to face Aruna as the soldier staggered back a few steps before sinking to the ground.
“Those are some killer moves, Arun. Literally.” She grinned at her new team member as, unbeknownst to her, blood dripped from the dagger pinned to her hair and onto the left side of her face.
Aruna flipped back onto her hands, a small smile on her lips. ”You haven’t seen anything yet but that aside, thank you for saving me from that sticky situation, Talia. Let’s stay close, watch each other’s backs.” she said, wiping the blood on her face but seeming to only to cause it to smear instead.
@Lyla Please take your time! We all understand that real life is important and we're all willing to wait. I'm glad that you're taking care of yourself and your health first! Like @Akayaofthemoon said, I'd be more than happy to help you in any way you need. So don't hesitate to let me know! <3
Taupo Tribe
August 25th, Evening | Auleili Foa’i, Nantegan people
She squinted slightly in the dark of the jungle, waiting for her eyes to adjust after hours spent facing the blazing bonfire. The roaring of the war drums, that had sounded from sun-up and continued unabated, dimmed as she left the communal field and picked her way towards the forest. Smiling and thanking those she came across, all with a prayer of safety for the leader of the Nantegan delegation, Talia came to stop just beyond the border of her home and the greater jungle. The chattering voices, the sounds of many *hapūs celebrating slowly fell away as she closed her eyes and knelt on the soft ground. Placing both hands flat on the earth she took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Just as the buzz of energy had fallen away, so too did her fears and apprehension. They would leave tomorrow. And tomorrow she became officially responsible for the lives of every single Nantegan representative. Tomorrow she became the leader, the face of Nantego. Tomorrow the honor and the strength of her people depended on her. But today, right now, she was scared. The responsibility, the worry, the nervousness weighed down her shoulders.
All too soon the quiet, almost meditative state she had been lost in snapped as she heard the muffled footsteps slowly approach. A gentle hand pressed between her shoulder-blades, carefully navigating around the massive tufts of grass comprising her ceremonial garb. “It’s time, my love.” Her mother’s understanding tone almost caused tears to prick at the corners of her eyes as the rest of the world came streaming back in. She allowed her head to fall forward, sending a prayer to the Mother Tree, as she pushed her tears of relief back before she quickly whirled around. Talia pressed her nose and forehead against her mother’s in the traditional greeting of her people before she pulled back with a wide smile. “Mama! You made it back!” As a Chosen, her mother had been sent on a week long pilgrimage to the Mother Tree, to ask for guidance and safe passage for the Nantegan delegation. However, Talia had been unsure as to whether her mother would make it back before she left. She had held onto the fact that her mother had at least seen her naming ceremony, the name that would go on to represent her to the rest of the *iwi for as long as people spoke of her.
“Of course I would. I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” Linking her arm through her mothers, the two women made their way back towards the bonfire and the party that raged around it. People from different hapūs met up with old friends and acquaintances, uncertain as to when they would next meet. At her appearance, a low hum of noise rose as other members of the delegation broke away from their groups and made their way towards the dance area, set to the left of the bonfire. Saying goodbye to her mother, who had joined her family at the head of the crowd, she grabbed her ceremonial spear and took her place at the head of the formation. She waited until she heard the sounds of the others shifting into place settle before she thrust out her spear, a booming cry on her tongue.
“*Kikiki! Kakaka!” she screamed into the night sky, silencing the crowd gathered before her. She bared her teeth and tongue in a snarl, the warriors behind her following suit. Like this they waited, intermittently letting out snarls and cries as they let the anticipation thrum through the air as the rest of the iwi hurried back. Suddenly, the war drums burst into a rapid rhythm, sending the warriors into a fury. At her command, they leapt and cried, calling for death and life in equal measure. With each step, with each cry, with each slash through the air, Talia let the ancient dance lend her strength and fury. All the previous trepidation and worry fled, to be replaced with the strength of all the warriors that had performed this dance. Her people before her added to her cries, fueling the fire that burned inside every single warrior behind her. They could feel their people, rooting for them and lending their strength. At last, her voice hoarse, her legs trembling, she bent on one knee, thrusting her spear before her.
“Kikiki! Kakaka!” Her voice rang in the still of the night, the war drums finally falling silent. She rose as her uncle made his way towards her, the warriors silent at her back. He placed his hands on her arms as he pressed his nose against hers before turning to face the gathered group.
“My people! Here stand our warriors, the best of the best. Each hapu has given to this cause their pride and their future. I know many among us were wary of the quest, unwilling to lend more Nantegan souls to the Alovian cause. But the threat of war stirs between the hearts of our allies and their enemy. And all too soon the Alovians may call upon us. But my people, these brave warriors have taken up the challenge. When they succeed in their mission, we shall remain at peace. Free to tend to our farms, our families, our hapūs. And as a bonus, none of you— save my poor hapu— should have to see me beyond our gatherings every 5 years.” A rippling of laughter made its way across the people, with a few from Talia’s hapu groaning in fake despair. “So let us unite now, as we send the blessings of the Mother with our warriors.” Starting the chant, the Chief stepped aside, returning the attention of the people towards the assembled warriors.
*tribes/towns comprised of multiple families (sub-tribe)
*confederation of tribes that can act similar to a nation, in this case Nantego
*Ka Mate- A haka, or war dance.
The Ballroom
August 31st, Evening
The rich scent of the frangipani that adorned her outfit and laced through her hair comforted Talia as she entered the Thelian ball. Reminding her of home, it offered a little comfort as she entered unfamiliar land. As she had been warned, the sight of the Nantego delegation had shocked and alarmed the gathered Thelian nobility. The sight of their bared golden skin more than was allowed in high society, and inked tattoos clearly distinguished them from the rest of the satin and silk adorned men and women. Masking her unease Talia confidently strode towards the Thelian king. Despite the reason behind their presence, and their status as guests of honour, Talia observed the guards surrounding the Thelian king grow tense, their hands subtly moving towards their empty sheaths before encountering air, instead of the hilt of their swords. Inwardly she breathed a sigh of annoyance as she had simply planned on extending a quick greeting before moving towards the appetising tables of food. However, she felt the eyes, ears and mouths of her fellow guests following the small procession of Nantegans. Wishing desperately that her uncle was here for his ease in awkward social situations she bowed her head slightly before the king, who had straightened in interest.
“King Charles. We thank you for your invitation and kind hospitality before our journey. We promise to do what we can to return the Queen to you.” She stopped with a smile, unsure of what else was required. The Nantegan people were unused to the rigid structure of Thelian and Alovian high society and found the duplicitous nature of their courts jarring and inhospitable. And so, she spoke only of what she meant, in the Nantegan way. No mention of honour, duty or a love for the Queen. The Nantegan delegation was here to stop a war from brewing, and hopefully, to save the lives of their people who would be called upon to join Alovia. But Talia was at least cognizant of the fact that that particular reasoning would not translate well to the others. The King nodded at her, thanking her and inviting them to partake in the party. Taking that as a sign of dismissal, Talia once more inclined her head before she led her party away from the King.
After instructing her party to refrain from causing any problems, she allowed them to mingle and join the rest of the party. For Talia herself, she made her way to a relatively uncrowded section of the food table. Smiling slightly at anyone who caught her eye, she quickly turned her attention to the food. Pretending to be completely engrossed in the options before her, she mentally lamented her position once more. Rifling through the options before her she remembered her last morning at home. She has said goodbye to her family, for possibly the last time. The image of her mother, uncle, aunt and cousins standing in the threshold of their house saying their goodbyes was forever seared into her brain. She wasn’t naive enough to believe with absolute certainty that she, or the people under her charge, would make it back alive.
And so she’d spent the last few hours at home soaking in and committing to memory every moment of her life. Playing with her cousins, learning from her aunt, shadowing her uncle, talking with her mother, training with the warriors, and hunting with her friends. Twenty-six years of memories were held in that place, and she feared never returning. Her hand quickly soothed the surface of her necklace before letting go. Symbolising safe passage, prosperity and luck, she allowed herself to take heart in her gift and rid herself of the doubts that had been periodically plaguing her. She was the Kaieke of the Tohorā, or the Rider of the Whale. And she would guide her people safely home.
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