MorningStar1399

Chaos

A N A S T A S I Y R O M A N O V A

^{G R A N D P R I N C E o f G L A V N Y A}

^{w i t h a p p e a r a n c e b y A R S E N I Y R O M A N O V A , _{P R I N C E o f G L A V N Y A}}

Anastasiy nodded at her request. “Of course,” he said, keeping his voice soft and gentle. He and Arseniy walked with her to the table, Anastasiy sitting and Arseniy remaining standing so not to make her feel completely boxed in. Hesitantly Anastasiy offered a hand in case she wanted it.

She seemed to calm herself down on her own, and Anastasiy smiled reassuringly. “I…I understand,” he said. “I am…same way, sometimes.”

He rested a hand against his chest. ”I am Anastasiy. This is brother, Arseniy.”

Arseniy nodded, lowering himself a bit as if in a slight bow. ”It is nice to meet you, Valentine.” His accent was not nearly as thick as his brother’s. He’d spent much more time working on his English and on hiding his accent.

Their Attire

S T A S I Y


FC: Clement Becq
Slight change: his hair is a bit longer

A R S E N I Y


FC: Timothée Chalamet

Chaos

B R I E L L E A R C H A M B A U L T - B A B I N E A U X

^{P R I N C E S S o f C O R N E E T B R U M E}

Her Attire

Shoes

FC: Emily Rudd

If there was one good thing about going to an amusement park, it was the chance to get cotton candy. Or maybe it was the chance to win teddy bears and other stuffed animals by playing carnival-esque games. Or maybe it was spinning teacups. Or maybe it was fried dough or apple crisps with caramel and ice cream or fried Oreos or the fact that she could be childlike for a while.

But no matter what, going to an amusement park was a good thing because it meant having fun, no matter how it was achieved. Thus Brielle put on a light blue dress with dancer shorts underneath for protection, lots of cute silver jewelry, and her newest art piece: sneakers painted with Van Gogh’s famous “Starry Night” on them. She grabbed a white sun hat and some sunglasses, adjusted the cute dinosaurs in her ears, and headed out to the cars.

Arriving at the amusement park made her smile widen. What would she do first? She might want to go on a roller coaster, but she also wanted to try winning prizes. She currently had no friends to hold her stuff while she went on rides, so…maybe it would be best she went on all the rides she wanted to go on first, then worried about food and prizes.

Chaos

E L I A S K O K I N O S

^{P R I N C E o f P Ó L E M O S}

^{w i t h a p p e a r a n c e b y D A F N I K O K I N O S , _{P R I N C E S S o f P Ó L E M O S}}

Their Attire

E L I A S


FC: Modified Gonçalo Teixeira
Slight change: his hair is actually almost shoulder-length

D A F N I


FC: Bianca Santos

Elias was entirely grateful his elder brother wouldn’t be present. Parties of any kind with Stefanos there had the tendency to get bloody or would leave the middle child incredibly tense and unable to enjoy himself as he waited for an attack that might never come. And this was to be a two-month long party, followed by a wedding. He was, however, incredibly grateful his younger sister was going to be there. Dafni got along well with Lea, and would get along well with others, too. Plus, her status as a multiple medalist (silver and gold) from the last three consecutive Olympics would likely fetch her plenty more attention.

Damn overachiever, Elias thought as he watched his sister walk into the common area of their shared suite. Unlike him, she was dressed casually in light denim shorts and a white short-sleeve shirt with skinny black stripes, sneakers, a plethora of bracelets on her left wrist, and a pair of gold-framed aviator-style sunglasses. On her arm was a denim jacket with a pin of Princess Leia’s face with the words “self rescuing princess” written across it. Dafni’s hair was in a ponytail, but the top of her head had been braided as if she started to make two loose French braids but gave up and put her hair in a ponytail, but kept the braided portion on her head.

“Pretty sure they won’t be allowing weapons at the amusement park, Daf,” he said in Pólemesian.

She frowned but pulled the fancy blade from her jacket and set it down on the table. “You don’t think they’ll notice the knife up my shorts, do you?

He gave her a look. “Trust your combat skills, Olympian.”

“Aye aye, captain,” she teased with a mock salute, removing the knife up her shorts.

“Hey, that is commander supreme to you, not captain.” Elias warned lightly, wagging his finger at her. “And I do not take my rank lightly.”

“Yes, anyone can tell you’ve more than earned your status, Mister ‘I-Wont-Dress-Casually-And-Look-Terribly-Frightening-To-All-Who-Come-Near-Me.’” She shook her head. “You’re about to stand out terribly.”

Elias sighed, looking at their reflection in the mirror. Her casual dress, and his white button-up shirt and black dress pants couldn’t have been more different. His hulking frame and her lithe athletic build were both on display in their attire (in her case, her rather revealing attire), and they knew it.

“May I suggest you change into jeans at least?” Dafni said, giving her brother a look.

He sighed, but ultimately changed into dark-wash jeans before returning to Dafni’s side.

“My little sister,” Elias said, arm wrapping around her waist supportively. “All grown up. When did she become this beautiful young woman?”

Dafni smiled, and patted her brother’s arm. “There, there, brother.” She snuck out her phone and opened up the camera. “Picture time?”

After taking more pictures than they likely needed to (some serious, some goofy-faced selfies, and there was definitely one Charlie’s Angels-style photo taken by one of their attendants), Elias and Dafni left their guest chambers and made their way to the cars.

One look at Elias and his resting glare and clenched jaw and no one wanted to ride with them, which led to Dafni taking even more pictures with him on the ride to the amusement park.

And almost immediately upon arrival Dafni wanted to go on a ride.

“Come on Elias, come with me on some roller coasters!” she begged, tugging at his arm.

He ultimately sighed. “Fine, but only to protect you.”

“Like I need protecting on a roller coaster, Elias.” Dafni rolled her eyes, but the two ultimately got in line for the first roller coaster she found interesting.

Chaos

A N A S T A S I Y R O M A N O V A

^{G R A N D P R I N C E o f G L A V N Y A}

^{w i t h a p p e a r a n c e b y A R S E N I Y R O M A N O V A , _{P R I N C E o f G L A V N Y A}}

Their Attire

S T A S I Y


FC: Clement Becq
Slight change: his hair is a bit longer

A R S E N I Y


FC: Timothée Chalamet

He honestly wished he had the ability to sneak off and bury himself in Tumblr or perhaps find a room in which he could practice ballet rather than pretend he was going to be king at some point and would therefore need to try to make friends to possibly make alliances in the future, or that he would need to prove to the world that Glavnya was to be taken just as seriously as any other country being represented that night. Yes, there were problems that they needed to address, but they would get there. Hopefully before his reign could begin.

”I should not be the future king,” Anastasiy had told his mother. ”That was Anatoly. He should be the one who will succeed Father.”

But the terrorist group The Niet and their five bullets said otherwise, and thus the late Grand Prince Anatoly Romanova and his pregnant wife Karina were dead.

A year in the grave and Anastasiy was still upset. This was his brother, and his brother knew that he didn’t want the throne. He just wanted to dance. But someone decided he was no longer going to dance, and thus for the last year he had been cramming extra lessons on diplomacy and politics. And now, at the two months leading up to this royal wedding, those crash-courses would be tested.

The entire world was about to be represented, it seemed, and Anastasiy had to try to leave a lasting positive impression on it.

And possibly gain future allies.

No pressure.

”What would you have done, Anatoly?” he asked the portrait of his brother sitting on the vanity in his guest quarters at the palace. ”Would you have been frightened, nervous, ready to tear yourself to shreds like I am?”

He looked at the confident smile, the mustache over his lips, the one Arseniy had threatened to shave off so many times, the blue eyes (the left of which held a fragment of brown), and the rings on his left hand, and Anastasiy knew.

”No, you would not have been nervous. You would have made friends with everyone and been the hit of the party. Hell, you might have even ended up being the one getting married in the end if you weren’t already.”

Anastasiy shook his head. ”But I’m not you. I was just supposed to be a ballet dancer. I wasn’t supposed to be future king.”

The grand prince eventually stood and looked at himself in the full-length mirror a few feet away from him. It was a day at an amusement park, which meant he was dressed somewhat casually. A short-sleeve button-up shirt with dark blue flowers on black stems on a beige base was mostly undone, exposing the white undershirt beneath. Many rings on his fingers. Black shorts that were possibly a bit too short for him to be wearing but as a dancer he didn’t really care if people stared at his toned legs. Black velvet shoes with gold dragonflies on top. Perhaps the shoes were a bit much, but he refused to wear plain shoes. He turned back to the vanity and picked up several long necklaces and put each one on carefully, making sure they did not get stuck in his dark curls.

There was a knock at his bedroom door. ”Anastasiy, you talking to yourself?” Arseniy, his younger brother. ”It’s time to go. You done?”

Anastasiy sighed. ”Da, yes, I will be right out.” He took a deep breath, one last look in the mirror, and the water bottle off his vanity before exiting the bedroom.

Arseniy was, decidedly, much more casual, in his entirely-untucked navy blue with a white flower patterned short-sleeve button-up, dark wash jeans, and black Converse. He gave his older brother one of his trademark grins, and Anastasiy nodded.

It was time to go.

The brothers walked with two bodyguards in black suits (there only because of the recent threats by The Niet as well as the actual attack on his late elder brother’s life) out to one of the waiting cars, and the four slipped inside, waiting for the procession to the amusement park to begin.

Upon arrival, Anastasiy took a deep breath. So much activity all around. The bodyguards kept close but not too close, and for a moment Anastasiy felt that maybe, just maybe, this was a mistake.

And then…he glanced over at a girl not much bigger than his sister Galya, and likely not much older than her either. She seemed…terrified. The protector in him took over, and Anastasiy walked over carefully, not wanting to startle her. He lowered his neck some, and hunched his shoulders, all in an effort to make himself look smaller and less intimidating.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, accent thick. His voice was deep and unassuming. His face softened, trying to make what could at times be harsh features appear non-threatening.

Arseniy, realizing his brother was no longer beside him, walked over, but paused a moment. The girl his brother was talking to was his own betrothed, Edelessa of Luxième. It seemed Anastasiy recognized this the same moment Arseniy did, but changed nothing about his demeanor or actions. Arseniy himself swallowed before approaching.

”Everything alright?” Arseniy asked.

Royal Chaos Expanded Universe (TM): Character & Kingdom Sheets

Pólemos

Pólemos

The Pólemesian flag

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮
――――――――――

Kingdom of Pólemos || _{pron. poh-LEY-mohs} || Pólemos, Pólemesian, Polem (though this is not widely used as it was once a slur used back in the days of war and expansion)

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓮𝓷
――――――――――

King Stavros Kokinos, King of Pólemos _{pron. STAHV-rohs koh-KEE-nohs}
Age: 51 years
Notes:
--- is loved by his people
--- believed in expansion, but did not think the navy needed expanding
--- personally requested Princess Agatha when Pólemos demanded the province of Lea, having fallen in love with her at first sight
--- only really allows gender equality to keep peace; is himself somewhat misogynistic and elitist
Queen Agape Kokinos, Queen of Pólemos, _{pron. ah-GAH-peh koh-KEE-nohs} deceased
Age: 27 years (she would be 47 now)
Notes:
--- died in childbirth
--- she was renamed Agape, but was born Agatha, and was originally a princess of a neighboring country called Durham who was betrothed to Stavros at 16 to stave off war (as well as Pólemos being given the province Lea); they were married the following year when Stavros was 21
--- was beloved

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓼
――――――――――

Red, Bright Red, Black, and Gold, but most people wear white or light blues or pinks to deal with the heat || #A72D03, #D63903, #030303, #FFBE65

💎𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓲𝓼 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓕𝓸𝓻
――――――――――

strong military, somewhat weaker navy, the HEAT (even if the north and the mountains get snow), bathing, being predominantly polytheistic, tradition, ruins of a coliseum (ended in 1674 by Prince Elias Kokinos’ namesake, King Elias Mávros), Pólemesian wines (which are not to be trifled with)
They are highly traditional, but the tradition is far more open than one would think.

DEATH & MOURNING

— Pólemesians still believe dying in combat or dying in childbirth are the most honorable ways to die
— proper funeral rites include having one’s body burned and the ashes done with as either the deceased has requested or as the family wishes, whether that be stored in urns with the rest of the family or mixed with other ashes or spread in various places
— mourning/grieving lasts two months and is denoted by wearing darker colors; deep reds, dark blues, or black are the most popular colors
— when in mourning, it is still common to have a piece of the deceased’s hair braided into one’s own hair for two months; Stavros did this with his wife’s hair, as his sons were too young to do it with theirs

MILITARY

— all men must serve at least five years in the military, and you can start serving at the age of 18 (upped from 16 in 1949); most men have completed their mandatory service by 24
— if a draft is imposed, all able-bodied and able-minded men (and sometimes women, too) between the ages of 18 and 30 are asked to fight for their country; however, seeing as women are the only sex capable of repopulation, drafts typically do not include women unless a special regulation is added, which usually limits the age range as 18 to 24 (men are essentially viewed as expendable in this equation)
— women can choose to take on military careers/services if they so choose, and are trained just as hard as men; a woman in the military is oftentimes more skilled than the men in her company, and held to twice the regard
— as to be expected, the military is one of the noblest professions, with primary glory being reserved for the army, followed by the marines, then the navy, then the air force, then the coast guard and national guard

FASHION

— hair is still considered a sign of status; it is not at all surprising to see both men and women alike with long hair, and the royal family holds pride and even rankings in their hair length, with kings and crown princes being allowed to have the longest hair, with any other princes typically keeping it at shoulder-length (queens and princesses can have their hair at any length)
— their traditional style of dress is a mix between ancient Greek styles and ancient Roman styles (togas, chitons, peplos, etc); there is a large amount of mixing between traditional dress and modern dress
— — military uniforms are modern, except dress uniforms are traditional white chitons, red capes, gold armor, sandals, etc
— royalty will typically dress in traditional garments for formal events

RELIGION

— still worship the old (Greek) gods under the same names, but refer to them as the Pólemesian gods

💎𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽/𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓗𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂
――――――――――

— millennia old, dating back well into BC/BCE
— bloody expansion period in the early 1200s, with most territories and old reclaimed countries being given back to their people in the mid 1400s
— past royal family names include Thálamos _{pron. THAH-lah-mohs}, Syfirí _{pron/ sye-FEAR-ee}, Docheío _{pron doh-CHEY-oh}, and Mávros _{pron. MAV-ros}, and the current ruling house is Kokinos
— became a version constitutional monarchy with the Senate taking more power and giving the people more power as well in 1865
— 1949 marked massive strides for gender equality, including giving women the right to vote, equal pay, and access to legal and safe abortions (something that had been outright outlawed in 1865, after having been available in ancient times through the long-extinct plant silphium and other plants and herbs; while not classified as illegal back then, there were times when an abortion back then would have been illegal, as in when the landowning husband died without an heir and the wife was pregnant at the time of death)
— 1949 also marked massive strides for workers’ rights and child labor laws, including raising the age of adulthood to from 16 to 18; this also increased the legal drinking age
— 1987: the then-Prince Stavros Kokinos makes a bold move by convincing his father to demand a temporarily-weaker neighboring country, Durham, to hand over a province, but when they went to negotiate, Stavros came up with another idea: no battle, but marriage to their Princess Agatha the following year when he turned 21 and the province of Lea; it was agreed, and Lea now is considered a Pólemesian territory
— 1998: Queen Agape (formerly Princess Agatha) dies from complications during childbirth while giving birth to Princess Dafni

💎𝓒𝓪𝓹𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓵
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Agrios, Pólemos || home of the royal family and the Senate

💎𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼
――――――――――

“Fight, Protect, Survive”
“Blood and ash make fertile ground”
“Our Blood Will Burn”

💎𝓢𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓮
――――――――――

— functions a bit more like a court or council than it does an actual governing body, though it is responsible for important legislation reaching the monarch
— there are requirements to being eligible to run for a Senator position: you must be at least 24 years of age and not holding any other office of power (so no princes or other leaders)
— there used to be limits regarding being male or a landowner, but with better gender equality being established in 1949 and the abolition of slavery in 1738, those two rules were done away with
— there is a current limit of 200 Senators (upped from 50 in 1949, as well as the lifting of the male-only rule), and elections are held every two years; you can serve as many times as you wish but most fall out of favor after eight terms (16 years)

💎 𝓐𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬
――――――――――

Pinterest: Pólemos

Elias Kokinos of Pólemos

Prince Elias Kokinos of Pólemos

"Truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a long time, but it ain’t goin’ away."
_{— Elvis Presley}

💎𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮
――――――――――

Elias Kokinos _{pron. EH-lee-ahs koh-KEE-nohs} || Elias, HRH, YH, Commander, General, other titles

💎𝓣𝓲𝓽𝓵𝓮
――――――――――

Prince, Commander Supreme of Pólemos’ Army and Marines

💎𝓐𝓰𝓮
――――――――――

24 years

💎𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻
――――――――――

Male || he, him, they, them

💎𝓢𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂
――――――――――

Bisexual

💎𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮
――――――――――

HEIGHT: 6’2”
BUILD: more buff, though slightly less sculpted for better stamina and strength
HAIR: almost shoulder-length, usually hanging in somewhat messy waves (not quite curls) despite any effort to tame it
SKIN: a bit more tan
EYES: more of a green-hazel than blue-hazel, a startling sight and decidedly unusual if no one knew his mother’s eyes were the same color; when they aren’t angry, they’re usually sad
SCARS: one on his left cheek, two on his right cheek, one on his left upper arm/shoulder; seven on his chest, two on his abdomen, five on his thighs, three on his calves
NOTES: he looks the most like his mother out of his siblings; has sharp, defined canines

💎𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂
――――――――――

strong code of honor, heightened sense of right and wrong, short-tempered, meticulous, somewhat stubborn, tense, never relaxed, natural leader, compromising, rational, out of touch with his emotions, bottles emotions up until they burst, gets his hopes up too high but refuses to see that, holds people to their word, a man of his word, will not make a false promise, stronger than he realizes, hates not being in control, has long since accepted a lack of bodily autonomy, self-critical, quick with a comeback even if he doesn’t say them out loud, usually a man of few words, cold, distant, not the best at faking it, brutally honest or otherwise silent, will usually just say “yes sir” and mentally gripe about it the whole time, tends to distance himself from anything unimportant, incredible strategist, highly intelligent, not easily trusting, can be somewhat proud but is not above doing work that would be considered below his station, diplomatic when he needs to be, gentle at heart, has a soft spot for children, hides just how afraid he is through a cold and battle-hardened glare, hasn’t cried in at least six years (whenever he feels himself about to cry he typically slaps himself or causes himself some other kind of pain in order to keep himself from starting and somehow it works), bitter, cynical, romantic, willing to do what he believes is right even if it means defying orders, lonely but doesn’t really know it, tends to swallow more noticeably when nervous (true, most people do it, but it’s a tick that people can pick up on since no one can usually judge his emotions), strong sense of duty, strong sense of morality, loves his homeland even if his brother is probably going to turn it to shit, homesick for a time and place and people, can be somewhat wise at times (or at least he can sound that way), clever (especially with insults), may not like being forced to rely on others but is not entirely above asking for help when he needs it (though he prefers to try to do things by himself first), possesses deeply buried self-doubt, a feminist

💎𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼
――――――――――

+ going into the capital and meeting his people; they’re the only other people he smiles for, especially children
+ is a natural equestrian, and rather enjoys a chariot ride, especially at sunset, despite chariots being more for recreational and aesthetic use now that there are cars
+ reading; has even tried writing his own poetry and stories, but has only shared them with Dafni
+ good liquor, esp. Pólemesian wines (which are not to be trifled with)
+ music; plays the guitar, harp, piano, violin, cello, and flute to the surprise of everyone who learns this, and also has a rather nice singing voice; he often plays an instrument or sings to himself when he cannot sleep or has woken due to a nightmare/night terror
+ the word “asshole”
+ children
+ being, for the most part, not that famous despite being royalty and the brother of Dafni Kokinos

💎𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼
――――――――――

- his brother
- politics
- people who lie or break promises
- fighting when the person he is fighting cannot fight back or if it is an unfair fight (as in he’s stronger than his opponent)
- loud, obnoxious drunks
- the press
- people who can’t hold their liquor
- non-feminists/meninists

💎𝓑𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂
――――――――――

{ M: Please ignore this super crappy formatting. At some point I might fix it, but I just want to get this done and posted at this point and am otherwise feeling lazy. }

Elias has never gotten along with his older brother Stefanos, and tries to warn their father about his intentions for the throne. His warnings go unheeded, but Stefanos knows Elias dislikes him and would make a more popular king. It was always determined that Stefanos would become king, being the eldest after all, and Elias doesn’t mind not becoming king. What he worries about is the distinct possibility that Stefanos would be more totalitarian than previous ancestors, or would become more war-desiring than Stavros, their father. It is clear Elias disapproves of Stefanos’ ideas for leadership, and thus pursues politics in whatever way he can, going so far as to pursue becoming a senator, only to be told he couldn’t because he was a prince.

Elias is incredibly skilled in combat — hand-to-hand, wrestling, swordfighting, archery, marksmanship, staff-wielding, javelin/spear, etc, even a whip, and can use both hands with equal skill — and is a gifted strategist. He is very good with knots and ropes, and often uses knots to help release excess tension before sleep or meetings; this is something he picked up after military training

The only person who sees someone other than Elias the military commander is his sister, Dafni. She sees a happy man, one who isn’t afraid to play, to smile, to laugh. She’s able to get him to put down the sword and shield and get out the gentle, loving, romantic in him. Elias therefore is closest to his sister, and is concerned Stefanos may decide to kill her or otherwise dispose of her in order to make sure she doesn’t ask too many questions if Stefanos does something to get rid of his younger brother.

He is fluent in several languages, and where he lacks in political strength he makes up for in physical strength. He is often sparring, training, or otherwise practicing his fighting skills, but will also exercise his strategy skills by participating in sports, often training with Dafni. His only friends are soldiers, and most of them are stationed throughout the country or the sons and daughters of council members or senators.

Elias’ best friend is a general named Emilios, and it is often said Elias is so similar to the man that they are more brothers than Elias is to Stefanos.

There have been numerous instances where Elias has saved Stefanos from assassination; however, almost all these attacks were staged by Stefanos to actually attempt to kill Elias.

He used to be fairly promiscuous, like any young Pólemesian man would be, constantly flirting with men and women alike, but after the numerous attacks on his and Stefanos’ lives, he changed, no longer flirting or even dancing. He misses dancing, and used to be quite good at it; this skill and grace came in handy when sparring or otherwise fighting.

💎𝓕𝓒 + 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻 𝓒𝓸𝓭𝓮
――――――――――

an edited Gonçalo Teixeira || #DAA520

💎𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓶𝓮 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰
――――――――――

“Broken Crown” - Mumford & Sons
_{The pull on my flesh is just too strong
It stifles the choice and the air in my lungs
Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie
When I open my body and breathe alive}

💎𝓑𝓮𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓣𝓸
――――――――――

N/A

💎 𝓐𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬
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Pinterest: Elias Kokinos
aesthetic: elias kokinos
{ M: It takes you to the tag “aesthetic: elias kokinos” on my tumblr, so you don’t have to scroll through 40+ more images on this page. }

💎 𝓢𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼
――――――――――

Prince Stefanos Kokinos, brother _{pron. STEH-fah-nohs koh-KEE-nohs}
Age: 26 years
Notes:
--- commander of Pólemos’ fleets and Navy
--- is planning to kill the king and blame it on his brother; he’s just waiting for the right time
--- has been betrothed to Domitia of Lusitania [character by Amethyst]
Princess Dafni Kokinos, sister _{pron. DAF-nee koh-KEE-nohs} { FC: Bianca Santos }
Age: 20 years
Notes:
--- super athletic, especially good with a knife and sword
--- --- is an Olympian
--- honestly a babe, looks like a cinnamon roll but can totally kill you
--- “My country's women have actively participated in war and have been revered as warriors for thousands of years and you don't think that transfers into me as well?“

💎𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼
――――――――――

”I would rather die than let you win that easily.“

💎𝓢𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓜𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓪
――――――――――

Tumblr:
— Private/Personal: fuckzeus-notlikethat
Instagram:
— Public: eliaskokinos
— Private/Personal: aresfightme
Twitter:
— Public: eliaskokinos
— Private/Personal: notmavros
Facebook:
— Public: Prince Elias Kokinos
— Private/Personal: Anastasiy Dima
Vine:
— Public: eliasdoestricks (was mostly him showing off athletic skills and how good he is with weapons)
Snapchat:
— Private/Personal: notmavros
Pókemon Go:
— Private/Personal: NotMavros47 (Team Valor)

Royal Chaos Expanded Universe (TM): Character & Kingdom Sheets

Korolevstvo Glavnya

The Glavnyan Flag, which was readopted upon the Romanova reclamation in 1948

The Glavnyan Royal Family

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮
――――――――――

Kingdom of Glavnya || Glavnya, Glavnyan

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓮𝓷
――――――――――

Tsar Oleksander Nikita Grigory Romanova, King of Glavnya ^{pron. ohl-lehk-SAHN-der nih-KEE-tah GRIH-gohr-ee ROH-mahn-oh-va} {FC: Michael Gambon (circa The King’s Speech)}
Age: 53 years
Notes:
--- benevolent and loved
--- is a little intimidated by the hate his family had endured in the past and tries to do his best to make sure the people like him
Tsarina Zinovia Agnessa Serafina Romanova, Queen of Glavnya ^{pron. ZEE-noh-vya ag-NES-sah sehr-rah-FEE-nah ROH-mahn-oh-va} {FC: Jennifer Ehle (circa The King’s Speech)}
Age: 50 years
Notes:
--- married Oleksander when she was 18
--- soft-spoken
--- loves her children and husband more than anything in the world

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓼
――――――――――

Navy, Royal Blue, Goldenrod || #001f81, #4169E1, #DAA520

💎𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓲𝓼 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓕𝓸𝓻
――――――――――

Snow, vodka, fur, being near-impenetrable in winter, economic collapse then rebuilding, outlasting everyone in war, being so damn cold

💎𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽/𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓗𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂
――――――――――

— 1848: the people revolted in order to save themselves and their country, but still had some respect for their royals (namely the queen and her children), so they let them live and proposed a treaty with their renouncement of the throne for 100 years
— — past kings had used excessive military power to rule, but the last had been far too relaxed in comparison, letting things fall into ruin and slowly draining the treasury
— between 1848 and 1948, there were three attempts at new governments, from direct democracy to oligarchy to communism, but due to economic failures (and twice rebellion in conjunction with economic failure) each attempt collapsed
— 1948: Romanova reclamation of throne after former government collapsed and the agreement expired
— — the royal family’s reclamation went smoothly and Glavnya has seen great economic improvements; it seems the Romanovas have learned from their past mistakes
— 2017: true heir, Velikiy Tsarevich (Grand Prince) Anatoly Romanova, died in an assassination along with wife; public believes it to have been a simple car accident
— there have been terrorist groups making reappearances, and one, the Niet, that has claimed responsibility for the assassination of the grand prince; this information is being kept as quiet as possible while being dealt with as rationally and peacefully as possible

💎𝓒𝓪𝓹𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓵
――――――――――

Mir, Glavnya

💎𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼
――――――――――

“We Outlast Our Oppressors”
“Lest We Forget”

💎𝓐𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓬
――――――――――

Pinterest: Glavnya
Pinterest: Palaces
Pinterest: Crowns, Tiaras, Medals, & Honors

Anastasiy Romanova of Glavnya

Velikiy Tsarevich Anastasiy Romanova of Glavnya

"Sometimes home
Can be
Another person"
_{— d.j.}

💎𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮
――――――――――

Anastasiy Dima Aleksei Romanova ^{pron. an-na-STAH-see DEE-mah ahl-LEHK-see ROH-mahn-oh-va} || HRH, YH, other titles, Anastasiy, Adar (pron. with long a, so A-dahr), the Sad-Eyed Prince, the Kind-Eyed Prince

💎𝓣𝓲𝓽𝓵𝓮
――――――――――

His Royal Highness, Crown Prince of Glavnya || Velikiy Tsarevich

💎𝓐𝓰𝓮
――――――――――

23 years

💎𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻
――――――――――

Male || he, him, they, them

💎𝓢𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂
――――――――――

Grey asexual panromantic

💎𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮
――――――――――

HEIGHT: 6’2”
BUILD: like that of a ballet dancer: defined musculature that isn’t the most impressive under most clothing, but between expert posture
HAIR: Long, curly, dark brown
EYES: blue, startlingly so
STYLE: formal, professional, on the preppy side, but does sometimes venture into the “artistic” side in private; also dabbles in androgyny and femininity
NOTES:

💎𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂
――――――――――

soft-spoken, graceful, gracious, polite, courteous, reserved, good listener, prefers to listen and watch to speaking, melancholy, poor self image, self-sacrificing, slow to anger, trustworthy, slow to act, hesitant, lonely, kind, generous, is prone to crying when he is alone, romantic, second-guesses himself all too much, loving, tender, gentle, rarely raises his voice, considered somewhat effeminate, anxious

💎𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼
――――――――――

+ playing piano & cello
+ dance, esp. ballet
+ music
+ poetry
+ reading
+ dressing well
+ looking his best
+ men’s and women’s fashion (and is quite partial to dressing androgynously or more femininely)
+ tea
+ rainy days
+ sunny days
+ clean uniforms
+ walks outside (especially with his dogs)
+ opera
+ his tutor

💎𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼
――――――――――

- disappointing his mother
- the fact that he has to become king
- drinking (as a dancer he must take care of his body)
- ruining his clothes
- messing up his appearance
- mathematics
- being lied to/cheated/played
- feeling manipulated
- the dark
- thunderstorms
- pressure
- coffee (he thinks it’s too bitter)
- the idea that all relationships must result in sex, or that all attraction must be sex-based

💎𝓑𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂
――――――――――

Being the second-born son of a line that only recently regained its status as reigning royalty should mean an uneventful life. And for Anastasiy Romanova, that was the case. He had time outside his royal education to study ballet, learn to sail, and fly planes. It was a charmed life.

However, when the Grand Prince Anatoly Romanova and his wife, Tsarina Karina Romanova nee Valushenka, were killed a year ago…that changed things.

The people believe Anatoly and Karina died in a car accident, but the truth is the two were assassinated. Headshots. A terrorist group called the Niet claimed responsibility for it, but the royal family managed to keep the story from airing.

Anastasiy was forced to end his ballet career in order to prepare as the new heir.

💎𝓕𝓒 + 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻 𝓒𝓸𝓭𝓮
――――――――――

Clement Becq || #B0C4DE

💎𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓶𝓮 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰
――――――――――

”Movement” - Hozier
_{”You are the rite of movement
Its reasonin' made lucid and cool
I know it's no improvement
When you move, I move
You're less Polunin leapin'
Or Fred Astaire in sequins
Honey, you, you're Atlas in his sleepin'
And when you move, I'm moved”}

💎𝓑𝓮𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓣𝓸
――――――――――

TBD; his being the successor is a recent development and thus a betrothal was not really considered until recently

💎 𝓐𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬
――――――――――

Pinterest: Anastasiy Romanova
aesthetic: anastasiy romanova
{ M: It takes you to the tag “aesthetic: anastasiy romanova” on my tumblr, so you don’t have to scroll through 40+ more images on this page. }

💎 𝓢𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼
――――――――――

Velikiy Tsarevich Anatoly Demyan Nazariy Romanova ^{pron. ah-NA-tol-lee DAY-mahn NAH-zahr-ee ROH-mahn-oh-va}, brother, deceased {FC: Henry Cavill}
Age: 30 years (he would be 31 now)
Notes:
--- was beloved and incredibly charismatic, the perfect definition of a “prince charming”
--- had been married to his wife, Karina Romanova nee Valushenka, for five years with no children
--- his wife was pregnant when they were assassinated (shot in the head while driving)

Tsarevich Arseniy Vadim Terenti Romanova ^{pron. AHR-sen-ee vah-DEEM tehr-EN-tee ROH-mahn-oh-va}, brother {FC: Timothée Chalamet}
Age: 20 years
Notes:
--- used to dance with Anastasiy, but quit when his brother had to
--- is currently betrothed to Edelessa of Luxième but they have not met
--- is here with his brother to meet his betrothed

Tsarevna Galya Mariya Asya Romanova ^{pron. GAHL-ya mah-REE-ah AH-sya ROH-mahn-oh-va}, sister {FC: Mackenzie Foy}
Age: 17 years
Notes:
--- is weak from chronic illness in her early youth

💎𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼
――――――――――

“I would rather be dancing“

💎𝓟𝓮𝓽𝓼
――――――――――

— miniature Australian shepherd, female, named Dunyasha (often called Dunya or Asha)
— cockapoo, male, blue/green heterochromia, named Ilya (often called Ilyusha)
— Russian blue cat, male, named Lyov
— Egyptian mau, female, named Lera

💎𝓢𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓜𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓪
――――――――――

Tumblr:
— Public: officialanastasiyromanova
— Private/Personal: dima-plies
Instagram:
— Public: officialanastasiyromanova
— Private/Personal: dima-plies
Twitter:
— Public: officialanastasiyromanova
Facebook:
— Public: Tsarevich Anastasiy Romanova (Official)
— Private/Personal: Anastasiy Dima
Vine:
— Public: anastasiyromanova (was entirely dance)
Snapchat:
— Private/Personal: dima-plies
Pókemon Go:
— Private/Personal: KindEyedPrince5 (Team Mystic)

Royal Chaos Expanded Universe (TM): Character & Kingdom Sheets

Royaume du Corne et Brume a Mergerrier

The Cornish flag, adopted in 1852, eighteen years after the changing of the country name

The Cornish Royal Family

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮
――――――――――

Kingdom of Corne at Brume of Mergerrier ^{pron. roy-AUM doo korn-EY eht BROOM ah mehr-GARE-ee-yare)}, often just called Corne de Brume or Corne; formerly known as the Empire du Mergerrier ^{pron. em-PEER doo mehr-GARE-ee-yare} | Cornish, Cornie, Mergerrie ^{pron. MEHR-gare-ee}, Mergerrien ^{pron. MEHR-gare-ee-en}

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓮𝓷
――――――――――

Reine Lucienne Mélisande Renée Archambault-Babineaux, Queen of Corne de Brume, ^{pron. LOO-SYEN meh-lih-SAHND reh-NAY AR-cham-BALT BAH-ben-noh} {FC: Nicole Kidman}
Age: 52 years
Notes:
--- is quite calculating, a bit impersonal, strives for more power, but is perfectly fine compromising so long as she gets a little something out of it
--- loves a good trophy husband, but is willing to make sacrifices with said husband
--- did love her first two husbands and does love her third, but has a rather unclear way of displaying her affections, even to her daughters

Prince Abel Frañsez Beauchêne, Roi-Consort/King-Consort of Corne et Brume ^{pron. ay-BELL frahn-SHEZ boo-SHEN} {FC: Tom Busson}
Age: 26 years, DECEASED (would be 54)
Notes:
--- very athletic, a former Olympic skier
--- died in a skiing accident only a few months after their coronation

Prince Christofeel Coenraad Aaldenberg, Roi-Consort/King-Consort of Corne et Brume, formerly Prins/Prince of Taal Bezem, Hertog/Duke of Vakantie ^{pron. kris-TAW-fehl KOON-rat AAL-dehn-berg} {FC: Matthew Goode}
Age: 42 years, DECEASED (would be 47)
Notes:
--- died of pneumonia while battling Hodgekin’s lymphoma
--- almost certainly gay, had two male lovers as allowed by his wife, whom he *did* love very much (he was actually bisexual but with a serious preference for men, with an 85% male preference and 15% female preference)
--- died with both his lovers and his wife at his bedside
--- beloved by all who met him, had a heart of gold, a smile of sunshine, and a painfully cheerful disposition
--- a family man, though his youngest daughter was his favorite

Prince Adrianus Cornelis Rietveld-Rademaker, Roi-Consort/King-Consort of Corne et Brume, formerly Heer/Lord of Vakantie ^{pron. ay-dree-AHN-uhs kore-NEH-lihs ree-YET-vehld RAH-deh-mah-kehr} {FC: Michiel Huisman}
Age: 37 years
Notes:
--- has been married to the queen for three years
--- was one of the two lovers to the previous king-consort, and comforted the widowed queen during his illness and after his death; they fell in love and were married (or at least he fell in love; her we’re not so sure; she may just like him because he’s young-ish and pretty)

💎𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓼
――――――――――

Floral White, Silver, Metallic Gold, Firebrick | #FFFAF0 #C0C0C0,#D4AF37, #B22222

💎𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓲𝓼 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓕𝓸𝓻
――――――――――

The ocean, having once been a naval superpower, the collapse caused by the Mad Prince Harry and bad imperialist practices, being super white (the people and all the white stone), white stone, marble, stupidly long place names and people names, wind farms, nuclear power plants, hydroelectric dams, usually being cold and windy and often sunless and grey, tulips, a mountain range at their southernmost border

💎𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽/𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓗𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂
――――――――――

1763: Mergerrier loses its last territories, including Maris, as the Mad Prince Harry destroys his own empire
1782: the Mad Prince Harry dies, last of his name
1798: His cousin, then Duke Deniel Archambault is recovered, and he ascends the throne of what is left of Mergerrier
1802: His only daughter marries and the family name becomes Archambault-Babineaux
1834: In order to reestablish themselves in the geopolitical world, the current monarch renamed Mergerrier to Corne et Brume a Mergerrier
1873: established crucial trade agreements with certain nations
1920: Women’s Suffrage reaches a peak and by the end of the year women receive the right to vote
1945: Corne et Brume becomes better than its old self, with an economic high surpassing that of the height of living before the reign of Mad Prince Harry, last achieved in 1752
1962: Legalizes abortion and grants countless women’s rights (although primarily reproductive) including one year paid maternity leave for mothers, access to early birth control, and ease of filing for divorces
February 1989: Princess Lucienne Archambault-Babineaux marries, an Olympic skier Abel Beauchêne
December 1989: Princess Magdalene Archambault-Babineaux is born to Princess Lucienne and Prince Abel
October 1990: Lucienne Archambault-Babineaux and her husband Abel Beauchêne are crowned queen and king-consort, making their daughter Magdalene the future queen
January 1991: Prince Abel Beauchêne dies in a skiing accident
May 1992: Queen Lucienne Archambault-Babineaux remarries, a Duke Christofeel Aaldenberg
June 1993: Princess Maylis Archambault-Babineaux is born to Queen Lucienne and Prince Christofeel
April 1999: Princess Brielle Archambault-Babineaux is born to Queen Lucienne and Prince Christofeel
October 2012: Prince Christofeel Aaldenberg is diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma
August 2014: Prince Christofeel Aaldenberg dies of pneumonia while battling Hodgkin’s lymphoma
July 2015: Princess Magdalene Archambault-Babineaux marries Lord Prince Ignaas Hubrecht
March 2016: Queen Lucienne Archambault-Babineaux remarries, a Lord Adrianus Rietveld-Rademaker, friend (and rumored lover) of her late husband
August 2017: Prince Mattéo Archambault-Babineaux is born to Princess Magdalene and Prince Ignaas
March 2019: Princess Maylis Archambault-Babineaux is officially engaged to Count Adélard Bonheur of Ovale of Corne et Brume

💎𝓒𝓪𝓹𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓵
――――――――――

Brume, Corne et Brume

💎𝓐𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬
――――――――――

Pinterest: Cornet et Brume
Pinterest: Palaces
Pinterest: Crowns & Tiaras

💎𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼
――――――――――

“The Warriors Who Rise From The Sea” | “les guerriers qui sortent de la mer”

“Fog Unto The Breach” | “brouillard à la brèche”

“When the serpent bleeds gold” | “quand le serpent saigne de l'or”

“Sowing white stones in soiled/bloodied earth will not make marble” | “semer des pierres blanches dans une terre souillée/sanglante ne fera pas de marbre”

“Yse” | pron. yeese, essentially means “yes” or “whatever” and is often sarcastic or insulting in nature

Brielle Archambault-Babineaux of Corne et Brume

Princesse Brielle Archambault-Babineaux of Corne et Brume

"And a softness came from the starlight and filled me to the bone"
_{— W.B. Yeats, The Wandering of Oisin}

💎𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮
――――――――――

Brielle Méline-Clare Élodie Archambault-Babineaux ^{pron bree-YELL meh-LEEN CLARE EH-low-dee AR-cham-BALT BAH-ben-oh} | HRH, YH, other titles, Brielle, Brie

💎𝓣𝓲𝓽𝓵𝓮
――――――――――

Her Royal Highness, Princess of Corne et Brume, Duchess of Westbrook & Berges Foncés | Princesse, Duchesse

💎𝓐𝓰𝓮
――――――――――

20 years

💎𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻
――――――――――

Female | she, her, they, them

💎𝓢𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂
――――――――――

Pansexual (but doesn’t actively label herself as such)

💎𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮
――――――――――

HEIGHT: 5’5”
BUILD: thin, lithe, fairy-like
HAIR: naturally dark brown, currently dyed a dark blonde, long, wavy
EYES: blue, though they look green sometimes
STYLE: all over the place — long flowing dresses, messy overalls, preppy skirts and cute hats, boho, sparkles, what have you; usually is colorfully dressed but is not afraid to wear all black or neutrals
NOTES: an abundance of soft freckles on her face and darker freckles on her body

💎𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂
――――――――――

lively, innocent, happy, hopelessly optimistic, naive, curious, adventurous, possesses a childlike confidence as though she has never been spoiled by the outside world’s pressures, easygoing, is down to go with the flow but has no problem making decisions for the group based on her whims, whimsy, full of moxie, artistic, creative, can be both energetic and quiet, can get fidgety when bored, has the patience of a saint until she doesn’t anymore, easily excitable, compassionate, will cry during most movies

💎𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼
――――――――――

+ playing piano
+ going on adventures in the woods around the palace(s)
+ music
+ reading and being read to (especially by her father)
+ flowy dresses
+ art
+ painting (she will paint on *any* surface)
+ tea
+ rainy days
+ sunny days
+ thunderstorms (although she *is* also frightened of them)
+ flowers
+ gardening
+ the night sky
+ having fun
+ animals
+ super sweet lattes with whipped cream (iced and frozen ones are even better)
+ watching movies
+ fashion (even when sometimes it doesn’t seem like it)

💎𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼
――――――――――

- coffee (unless it’s a super sweet latte with whipped cream)
- being told to act her age (it often gets met with her sticking her tongue out at the person, especially her mother)
- societal pressures
- her mother constantly telling her to be more mature
- being brushed aside
- peas
- people trying to force her into feeling guilty about something
- most meat (it’s a taste thing, not an animal thing)
- boredom
- textbooks
- thunderstorms (as cool as she thinks they are, they also terrify her)

💎𝓑𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂
――――――――――

Brielle has led a fairly blessed and uneventful life. She was the second-born child of the queen’s second husband, making her third in line for the throne. With few worries regarding if she’d ever rule (her eldest sister Magdalene was perfect for the role as queen), she got to do mostly as she pleased.

Her father, the roi-consort Prince Christofeel Aaldenberg, was her go-to companion. An avid gardener, he taught her the ins and outs of plants and managing a garden starting when she was four and first showed an interest in the pretty flowers, even starting her on her own personal balcony garden when she was eight. He taught her how to ride a horse, and would sit in her bed with her and read her story after story in all the most animated voices. Those were some of Brie’s favorite memories, being cuddled up beside her father as he read to her.

With her sister Maylis she learned how to paint. When she got her first Instagram account she learned that paint didn’t just have to go on a canvas, and thus started to decorate her planters, candle holders, rocks, tree bark, her hands, and when he’d allow it, her father’s face and neck and hands and arms.

Ever the curious one, Brielle loved to go on adventures through the forests surrounding the winter and summer palaces. She would explore, collect rocks and flowers, climb trees, and generally do some unprincess-like things. Her mother did not approve, but her father encouraged it, even joining her on some of her first explorations when she was younger.

Things didn’t get truly interesting until 2012. Prince Christofeel noticed some swelling and a general feeling of unwell, and thus spoke with his doctor. After testing, it was confirmed. The roi-consort was dying. Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The diagnosis shocked everyone, but Christofeel put on a brave face and smiled throughout all of it. If he could remain positive between the chemo and the radiation, then others could, too.

His favorite daughter spent as much time with him as she could. On days when he rested in bed a lot, she would take books and ask him to read to her. When he got too weak to continue reading to her, she started to read to him instead.

Prince Christofeel died in 2014 when he came down with pneumonia and wasn’t quite strong enough to fight it. It was said he died with the three loves of his life around him: his wife and his two lovers. Brielle was just outside the door, wishing she could be in there with him.

To her surprise, her mother remarried only two years later, a year after her oldest sister married. Brie knew the man to be a friend of her father’s, and thought he was nice, but felt it was much too soon to have a stepfather. Still, she didn’t complain. She just went about her life with that same cheer of her father’s, her bright positivity and optimism being the way she kept him alive. Sure, her mother seems to disapprove of her as much as her father had loved her, but…

💎𝓕𝓒 + 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻 𝓒𝓸𝓭𝓮
――――――――――

Emily Rudd | #FFDAB9

💎𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓶𝓮 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰
――――――――――

“Feeling Good” - Michael Bublé

“Birds flying high
You know how I feel
Sun in the sky
You know how I feel
Reeds driftin' on by
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good”

💎𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼
――――――――――

“If the world isn’t smiling at you, maybe you should try smiling at the world“
”The sun is smiling so I’m smiling, and when the sun isn’t smiling I’m smiling even more to make up for it”

💎𝓐𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬
――――――――――

Pinterest

💎𝓢𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓜𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓪
――――――――――

Tumblr:
— Public: princesse-brielle-ab-officielle
— Private/Personal: majestueux-papillon-violet
Instagram:
— Public: princessebrielle.ab.officielle
— Private/Personal: majestueux.papillon.violet
Twitter:
— Public: princessebrielleabofficielle
Facebook:
— Public: Princess Brielle Archambault-Babineaux (Officielle)
— Private/Personal: Brielle Aaldenberg
Snapchat:
— Private/Personal: majestueux-papillon-violet
Pókemon Go:
— Private/Personal: MajestueuxPaVi (Team Mystic)

💎𝓢𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼
――――――――――

Princesse Héritière/Crown Princess Magdalene Antoinette Orianne Archambault-Babineaux of Corne et Brume ^{pron. mag-dah-LEHN ahn-ton-ET or-ee-AN AR-chahm-balt BAH-ben-oh} {^{FC: Emilia Clarke}}
Age: 30 years
Notes:
--- married with a child
Princesse/Princess Maylis Osanne Sabine Archambault-Babineaux of Corne et Brume, Duchesse/Duchess of Champagne & Burke, sister ^{pron. may-LEES o-SAHN sah-BEEN AR-cham-BALT BAH-ben-oh} {FC: Anna Christine Speckhart}
Age: 26 years
Notes:
--- smart but odd
--- interested in the macabre and witchcraft, though the latter is something she only shares with her little sister
Prince Ignaas Étienne Hubrecht of Corne et Brume, formerly Heer/Lord of Verdrietig of Vaal Bezem, husband of Magdalene ^{pron. EEG-nahs eh-TYEN hyoo-BREKT} {FC: Wouter Peelen}
Age: 32 years
Notes:
--- a sailor & former naval officer, discharged due to injury (much of his left side was badly burned in an explosion and he can barely use his left arm)
Comte/Count Adélard Gilles Bonheur of Ovale of Corne et Brume, fiancé of Maylis ^{pron. AH-deh-LARD ZHEEL-ays bon-HEWER} {FC: Nicolas Simoes}
Age: 30 years
Notes:
--- an avid entomologist, has given Brielle and Maylis pinned butterflies that he assures them all died of natural causes
Prince Mattéo Niels Olivier Archambault-Babineaux of Corne et Brume, son of Magdalene ^{pron. mah-TAY-oh NEELS oh-LIV-ee-ay R-cham-BALT BAH-ben-oh} {FC: N/A}
Age: 1 year
Notes:
---

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

R H I A , A L E J A N D R O , & E L I A S

---

“Doesn't he though?" Rhia commented, giving first Elias and then Alejandro a wicked grin. "I think he does it on purpose," she teased, knowing Alejandro put a great deal of effort into his appearance.

— —

Alejandro laughed at Rhia and Elias’ comments, and part of him was slightly surprised to see a hint of the Elias he had once known show through his otherwise stoic facade. “Oh, but you flatter me,” he replied mischievously, giving them a nonchalant look. “I merely, ah, dress to my tastes. Which, as I am sure you are both well aware of, are quite...colorful.” He threw the two of them a cheeky grin.

He then turned to Dafni, beaming. “And you, of course, look even more incredible. Though you have my sincerest thanks. Flowers are quite nice, no? Even on chitons.” Another cheeky grin. “I am doing quite well. There is gorgeous decor, good food, and good company. I do hope that you and Prince Elias are doing well, too?”

Alejandro felt Elias’ eyes on him as he talked to Dafni. He gave the other prince a sidelong glance, a nigh-on imperceptible arch of an eyebrow-as if to say, well?

— —

Elias nodded. “In other words, it’s on purpose.”

Dafni looked at her brother, expecting a smirk or something, but instead being met with his serious straight-line.

Elias closed his eyes at the chiton comment. He could remember the looks he got when requesting that fabric, then leaving it in Alejandro’s room for him to figure out. The Pólemesian prince had always assumed Dafni had taught him, though it seemed a bit strange a thought now. Alejandro was clever. He could have figured it out on his own.

But seeing him in it…dear gods.

Dafni smiled. “We are doing well, yes.”

Elias nodded, catching that look. “Yes,” he simply said, leaving it at that.

— —

“I think chitons are less about the fabric and more about the legs,” Rhia commented, bringing to mind the various times she’d seen Elias in one. “That and what you can get away with for the pins.” The last time she’d been to Polémos she’d had fun with the latter. “Actually, Alejandro, I bet you could pull off a chiton. It’s not an easy look, but you’re good at pulling off...well, just about anything.”

— —

“I am glad to hear it,” he said to Dafni. “Is this your first time in Aciras? How do you like it so far?”

Alejandro then turned to Rhia, beaming. “Now, now, you are much too kind,” he said, giving her a dazzling smile. “As for a chiton, well...Prince Elias was kind enough to help me find one in floral print, when I visited Pólemos a couple years ago.” He winked. “Chitons, I believe, are one of the most excellent forms of clothing on this planet. With high heels as a close second, of course.”

— —

“Oh no, heels come in first. Back me up here, Dafni - there are many patterns which allow a person to show a little leg, but there is nothing quite like a good heeled shoe.” Rhia leaned into her words with a passion. She didn’t always wear heels, but a good pair of heels could make or break an outfit.

— —

Dafni laughed. “I’m an athlete. I live in sandals and sneakers. Tennis shoes, some people call them. But I dunno, I’ve seen Alejandro here in heels but I do not remember the chiton incident.” She gave her brother a look. “You wouldn’t happen to have proof this occured, would you?”

Her brother cleared his throat. “Uh, no, no I do not. Not on me, at least.”

Dafni frowned slightly. “Hmm, pity.” She looked at Alejandro again. “And as for your question, Alejandro, yes, this is my first time in Aciras. Elias’ too, I do believe. You know, you promised me we’d go see fashion shows at some point, and yet you never invited me to any. And yet, I sent you a ticket to my very first Olympics like you asked. Had to convince my father that one extra guard was not necessary considering we had Elias with us, and you’ve had the good fortune as well as the misfortune of seeing him in action.”

Elias cleared his throat again, shaking his head. “Not now, Dafni,” he said in Pólemesian. She merely shrugged it off. He saw no good in bringing up the first assassination attempt on his brother’s life, the one that gave him two of the three scars on his face.

— —

Alejandro let out a huff of laughter. “Well, you have a point,” he said to Rhia, grinning, “though I suppose the…versatility of chitons is what makes them appeal to me, personally.” And the fact that they are very easy to remove, I suppose, he added silently.

He shot Dafni a sheepish smile. “Well, I would love to see a fashion show with you, but unfortunately fashion month has already passed. Come to Portaya one day, yes?” He furrowed his brow, slightly. “I don’t know if you would rather see the Spring/Summer shows or the Fall/Winter ones. Women’s Fall/Winter is usually during early spring, so maybe you would prefer that? The weather would be warming up.” He winked cheerfully at her, breezing over the last bit of Dafni’s reply, as well as Elias’ subsequent lapse into Pólemesian. “Let me know when you’re free.”

— —

“I say choose based on how much skin you like seeing,” Rhia advised. “Winter tends to feature more jackets and coats, longer sleeves, pullovers, stuff like that.” She flashed a self-conscious smile, but she knew those she talked to well enough to be comfortable continuing. “I like the ladies’ shows better, to be honest. Sure, the lads are hot enough, but you can do so much more with women’s clothing — and the models are gorgeous.” It was an open secret that she swung both ways, but she wasn’t always comfortable confirming it.

“If it’s your first time in Aciras, I can show you around a little,” she offered. “Or rope Lea into it. We’re cousins, and I know she won’t mind. Beneath all the talk of clothes she’s got some interesting depths. She’s got an animal sanctuary that’s actually a lot of fun, if you don’t mind getting a little dirty. Or you can look from a distance, I suppose.”

— —

Dafni pouted. “Mmm, well, I have no use for long sleeves in a country that only sees cold weather in the mountains towards the north, so I suppose it would be best if I saw the Spring/Summer stuff. Besides, Pólemos is hardly one to shirk away from a little…bodily exposure.”

“Almost nudity,” Elias deadpanned.

His sister rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Besides, colder weather could be fun considering I’ve…never actually seen snow. Though it is a little odd to show summery stuff when it’s cold outside, don’t you think?”

The talk of animals made Dafni turn her attention even more towards Rhia. “Animals?” She laughed lightly. “I’m an Olympian and I’ve completed military training. I think a little dirt won’t hurt me.” She nudged her brother, almost spilling her tea. “You should join us.”

Elias blinked. “Only to protect you.”

“Since when have I needed protecting? I can hold my own. Besides, you need to lighten up. Maybe holding a baby goat or something will cheer you up.”

He merely shook his head. “I am fine watching.”

Dafni made a hand gesture as if brushing him away. “Ignore him. He’s been almost boorish these last few years. I’d blame Prince Sunshine over here but I know it isn’t his fault.”

— —

Alejandro gave the two siblings and amused look. “The point of the couture shows is to display what the fashion houses will have for the upcoming season,” he explained. “So Fall/Winter shows are in early spring, because they’re showing pieces designed for the, well, fall and winter of that year. And Spring/Summer shows are in autumn, because the pieces are meant for the spring and summer of the following year.”

At the mention of Lea and animals, Alejandro laughed out loud. “Darlingest Lea is a big fan of animals, yes,” he said-the understatement of the year. Alejandro himself knew that he was one who would be more than happy to simply watch from a distance...animals had a habit of mussing one’s hair and ripping one’s clothing, to say the least.

And then...Alejandro would have stiffened at Dafni’s next words, had he been the type to react to things the way a normal, sane, not ridiculously sparkly and/or outrageous person would. Princess Dafni is on very dangerous ground, here, he thought to himself, darkly. It would be wise if we did not linger on that...topic.

And so Alejandro steered the conversation in a different direction. “What are the animals like in Pólemos?” he asked, casual-as-can-be. “I’d imagine they are quite different from those in the area surrounding Lynston.”

— —

Dafni nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I dunno,” she said honestly. “I hardly even think about them, the animals around us. There are lots of stray cats and dogs in Agrios, not that I don’t wish I could find them homes. But there are a lot of birds. We hear them all the time in the olive groves. Believe it or not, flamingos are natives. Big ol’ pink things. They’re great. Stupid, but great. Maybe that’s why I never understand the hype over lawn flamingos. I see too many of them at home.”

— —

Rhia picked up on darker undercurrent in the conversation, but she skimmed past it with practiced ease. “Flamingos, huh? You know, if Alejandro wasn’t such a peacock, I could see him as a flamingo. Bright, vibrant...noisy.” Laughter danced in her eyes. “Elias, I think you’re more...hmm. Ah! I know. A moose!”

Elias suddenly looked at her with murder in his eyes. “Take that back.”

Dafni laughed.

“Shan’t!” Rhia’s expression told him she was only half-serious. “Consider the following: moose are huge creatures. They look all stern, but mostly harmless—”

“Oh I assure you, Rhia, I am plenty capable of harm,” Elias interrupted sternly.

“—but they’re actually quite dangerous if you rile them. Just like you.” Rhia’s expression softened. “Are you really so bothered by the comparison? Moose are majestic. Have you never seen one?”

Dafni couldn’t stop laughing, and Elias gave her a look. “No I have never seen a moose.”

“I can’t help but picture antlers over your head now oh my gods,” Dafni wheezed.

Elias narrowed his eyes at her. “I think I’d prefer a wolf comparison.”

“Wolves run in packs, Elias. And they’re not serious enough,” Rhia interjected.

“But Elimoose!” Dafni exclaimed.

Elias groaned, setting his plate and cup down on the nearest horizontal surface and holding his face in his hands.

Dafni laughed and laughed. “Elimoose! Elimoose!” she teased, earning her quite the glare and a string of Pólemesian curses.

“Alright, Dafni, take it easy.” Rhia hadn’t realized the sister would take her comparison and run with it, though perhaps she should have. She’d always thought a younger sister would be less wild than her brothers.

Dafni forced herself to breathe, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, that’s hilarious. You’d better be grateful Stefanos isn’t here to use that one against you.”

Elias gave her a look but picked up his plate and put a random piece of food in his mouth to keep himself from talking.

— —

Elimoose, is it? Alejandro thought to himself, idly, chuckling as Dafni, Elias, and Rhia argued over what animal Elias would be. Elias’ reaction, however, was not at all how he would have reacted five years ago.

Alejandro leaned back in his seat, slightly, taking a sip of tea. “Well, I for one am perfectly fine with being a peacock. Or a flamingo,” he said with a laugh, even as he surreptitiously studied Elias as the other prince started eating again. In that moment, Alejandro could feel the weight of all the words that had yet to be said hanging between them, but he brushed it aside. They would have plenty of time, later.

— —

“Well, I know that I am a bloody unicorn,” Rhia declared with a smile. “Bright, majestic, and with the ability to stab anyone as needs it. Also attracted to lovely ladies. Fits me to a t.”

Dafni nodded. “That’s fair. I’d fit that too, except I think I’m more of a pegasus. I mean, they seem so much more playful. Unicorns tend to be serious or make people think serious things. Pegasi, though, are energetic and athletic and who wouldn’t want to fly?”

— —

Alejandro had been searching for an opening to confront Elias about...about, well, what needed to be confronted, when Lea Lynton gave him the perfect opportunity.

She turned towards their little half-circle, a wide grin on her face. “Did someone say unicorns? Oh my gosh I love love love unicorns,” said Lea. “Pegasi are so cool, too. Have either of you played Robot Unicorn Attack 2? That is the prettiest unicorn game in existence.”

As Lea chattered away, Alejandro glanced at Elias, again. He leaned towards him, lowering his voice slightly. “You know, Prince Elias,” he began, musingly, “I seem to recall seeing a moose display in one of the libraries, the last time I visited.” He let his trademark grin flash across his face, though his eyes were uncharacteristically somber. “Care to join me as I, ah, re-familiarize myself with it?” His voice was light, playful, but even Alejandro could hear the tense undercurrent in his own words.

— —

Elias gave Alejandro a look. “Seriously? More moose?” He sighed, but finished his tea and the last bit of food on his plate before setting both the plate and cup down and standing. He adjusted his jacket and nodded. “Let’s go then.”

He rested a hand on Dafni’s shoulder. “Excuse me, sister, but I will return.”

Dafni nodded and said a quiet, “Yeah, of course,” as she focused on Lea’s babbling.

She’d be fine. Elias looked at Alejandro and nodded once more. The two exited the room, Alejandro in the lead, Elias in tow. Quite opposite most of the last time they’d seen each other almost five years ago.

(Collab between @Morningstar1399, @shylarah, @ayzrules)

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

A N A S T A S I Y & V A L E N T I N E

collab between @MorningStar1399 &@shylarah

When the song ended, Anastasiy was facing the door when he bowed as if to an audience. However, it was as he stood up again that he realized something.

He had company.

There, hiding herself behind the door frame with a camera in her hand, was a young girl. Well, young might not have been the best word, but she looked Galya’s age, and to an older brother his younger sister was young. Thus, this girl, who actually reminded him of Galya in a way (shyness and appearance at least), seemed young to him.

Anastasiy didn’t want to frighten her, but he was also afraid of butchering his words in English. Still, it was better to attempt than pretend he hadn’t noticed her.

“Forgive me, miss, I…did not know room was being used. I can leave if you would like.” He paused. “You…are princess, no? Maybe saw you at ball. Only briefly. I...did not talk to many people and left early. Too many people. Made me nervous.”

He made his way over to his bag, sitting on the floor to turn off his music and stretch out his legs after dancing so much. It was probably best he stopped anyway. He needed to get ready for brunch still.

Anastasiy looked at the camera in her hands and offered a small smile. “That is nice camera. My sister, Galya, likes taking pictures. I…cannot think of English word for name of hobby. Forgive me, my speaking English is not very good. Am better at writing and reading it.”

— —

Valentine’s eyes widened when the man addressed her, and she took an unintended step back. She considered just leaving, but the man seemed awkward himself. This was a low-pressure opportunity to work on her own pitiful social skills. She should take it.

She couldn’t quite manage a response to the question of her identity, but she did enter the room properly. “I-I...I’m sorry. No, the room’s not in use.” She spoke quietly, in a tone that would be hard to hear in a crowded room. Nor did she speak quickly, her phrases shaped as much by the spaces between them as by her tone and gentle accent. “You don’t have to leave.” Val could never displace someone else, not when they’d been there first. The thought made her hold her camera a bit tighter.

“Photography, it’s called. Um...your English is fine, though.” That was all she could manage to say, and she could feel the heat of a blush rising in her cheeks. Val ducked her head, letting her hair fall in front of her face.

— —

She was sweet. Shy, and definitely uncomfortable, but sweet. Anastasiy couldn’t help but smile warmly as she spoke, continuing to stretch his feet and ankles. “Is okay, I should probably leave anyway, after I stretch. I have to get ready for brunch. My country needs all the…what is it called, um, pee-are? Whatever that means. My brother said it a lot before he…died. Um.” He swallowed. “But Glavnya needs trade relationships in order to boost economy again, or something else. Really boring. I would rather be dancing again.”

Anastasiy sighed, pausing a moment and looking slightly stressed, before turning his head to look at the girl again. “You remind me of my sister, little bit. Small, young, shy. I too. I...I mean, me too. And thank you for compliment, my…English is not as good as siblings’, dead or alive.”

It was a painful thought, Anatoly’s death, and he hoped this sweet little thing didn’t know what that felt like. But he looked at her again, at her eyes, and a bit he’d learned while in ballet school, about one of the countries who’d contributed to ballet’s development, stuck in his head. Luxième had, in very recent history, somewhat torn itself apart, but their royal family was known for distinctively bright blue eyes. Their only heir was a young girl about Galya’s age. He remembered his sister talking about it once, about how she wouldn’t want all that pressure on her.

And to think I naively hoped she didn’t know what death and loss felt like.

Anastasiy blinked, looking away slightly, then back at the camera, then at her face again. If only his French or even Luxemi was better and existed outside his usage for ballet. But looking at her, he decided suddenly switching the language might startle her and thus was grateful he couldn’t speak her mother tongue.

“I…my name is Anastasiy…by what name may I call you?” Maybe not a good question, but it was a way to verify his discovery, no? And if she tried to bolt he would attempt to calm her by saying he didn’t need to know, just wanted to be polite.

— —

Valentine couldn’t help it. She flinched when he mentioned his dead brother, both times. It took a long moment before she found her voice again after that. She needed to change the subject back to something safe. Names were safer, but she needed more than that.

“Valentine.” A short pause, then, “I watched you dancing. How long? I mean, how long have you been studying dance?”

— —

Anastasiy smiled. He was fairly certain the Luxemi princess had not been named Valentine, but he was still fairly certain of her identity for whatever outrageous reason. “It is nice to meet you, Valentine.”

Her question led him to a long exhale. “How long…well, I…I am not anymore studying, or rather am not studying anymore, since last year throne was left to me after…the accident, but…I started at age of five for birthday present—as birthday present—and will be twenty-five in November…so twenty years? Almost twenty years? I still practice because I miss it and wish I could dance instead of one day be tsar—instead of one day becoming tsar, forgive me again, but…” Anastasiy shrugged. “My people need me. Is pitiful answer, but is only answer am given when try to ask if can dance instead of rule.” He shook his head.

He looked at her camera again and thought of another change of topic (he didn’t like the thought of ruling and he figured neither did she). “Maybe one day I can see pictures of me dancing?” He held up a hand. “Not right now. I wait until you are ready. But maybe one day? I do not need to see all pictures, just ones of me dancing.” He shrugged. “Maybe I offer to buy prints of them from you, like professional…um…picture-taker person, um…”

Anastasiy looked down and started to mutter to himself. “Let us see, photography, um, y-ending, so um…constonant, no, no, consonant, da...” He looked up at her, brow furrowed and lips pursed in nerves and confusion. “Um, is it photographer? Photographier? No, is photographer, da? Right?”

— —

His people need him.

Not hers, they just wanted to have someone there. It didn’t matter who. The Athenians and the Senate handled governing. With a wrench of thought Valentine put the matter aside. She didn’t want to think about it.

Wait, he wanted to see her pictures? She instinctively pulled the camera closer to her. She was good enough for tumblr, for a freelance dabbler. But a professional? Anastasiy’s confusion over the word distracted her enough to relax her white-knuckled grip. She nodded a confirmation, even as her thoughts kept whirring. She’d watched him dancing. It was only fair to have her share in return. Wasn’t it?

She looked down at her camera and pushed the buttons to bring up the picture roll. “I-I guess you can see.” A pause as she pulled the strap over her head. “I took some of the palace too.” Val held the camera out. “The arrow buttons move between pictures.”

— —

Anastasiy shook his head. “If you do not want me to see them just yet, I wait until you are ready.” He gave her a smile, but hesitantly held out his hand. “Are you sure you are ready now?”

When the camera remained held out, he smiled and took it carefully in his much larger hands. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He looked down at the buttons and nodded. “My sister has camera like this. She takes pictures mostly of birds.” He clicked through the pictures slowly, going back when he reached the castle shots and off of his. It felt like prying, looking at any others than the ones he’d asked to look at.

“These are very nice,” he said, nodding as he held the camera out for her to take back. “I like them. You are very good.” He smiled and nodded again as if in reassurance of the compliments.

— —

“I like birds,” Valentine ventured, glad to finally have something safe to talk about. She doubted his sister had a camera exactly the same as hers, as it was the sort of camera only someone who was serious about their photography would invest in. The folk in Athens got her photography things when they didn’t know what else to get her, part of why she had such good equipment. The rest was because of a friendship with an employee at her local store who gave her good rates for unopened items even from other places, among other things.

She reclaimed her camera swiftly when it was offered, feeling a sense of relief even though she knew it had been perfectly safe in Anastasiy’s hands. She wasn’t so sure about his compliments, though she mustered a small smile, given that she’d taken the photos just to take them. She could get a better shot composition if it was earlier in the morning, or if she’d been brave enough to venture past the doorway to take the pictures.

— —

Anastasiy nodded, and removed his ballet slippers, rubbing the soles of his feet with his thumbs. There was still tape around his toes, but he wasn’t about to take that off in front of her. He’d do it in the shower later.

He picked up his phone and nearly panicked when he saw the time. “Oh…oh dear,” he said, however contrary to his internal panic he kept his voice calm so not to startle Valentine. “I am going to be late to brunch. I had better go get ready. Cannot miss it even though I want to. My parents are expecting me to behave admirably and get it out that Glavnya is…coming back into world.”

Anastasiy sighed, but put on his other flats before putting his dance shoes back in his dance bag. He stood slowly, and offered his hand for a handshake. “It was nice to meet you, Valentine,” he said. “Maybe we can become friends before time runs out?” He offered a hopeful smile.

— —

Valentine had little to add when Anastasiy said he needed to go. She wasn’t sure she intended to attend the brunch herself, but she wouldn’t make someone else late. The offer of a handshake was met with wide eyes, but she pried her hand free of her camera long enough to accept it.

A soft sound from outside the room caught her attention. “Is that a violin?”

— —

Anastasiy gave her hand a gentle shake so not to frighten her off, but his head picked up at her question. His ears studied the sound, and it made him smile. He knew that sound, or at least he thought he did. It sounded too low in pitch to be a violin, but he was also far away.

“I…I think it may be a cello, but I am not sure. It sounds far away. Shall we see what it really is?” Anastasiy cocked his head, putting his bag over his shoulder and offering a smile. She wouldn’t have to investigate alone if she was truly curious, and he figured that, behind her shy nature, she was a curious one. Why not indulge it a little?

— —

“No...you’re probably right.” Definitely too low to be a violin. She’d spoken without thinking. Valentine rather liked the idea of having someone else with her in seeking out an unknown person, but... “Y-you said...you’ll be late.”

— —

Anastasiy shrugged. “I will already be late no matter what. Besides, I…I play cello. Maybe it will be nice meeting other cellist or maybe violinist or violist or someone else to play accompaniment or melody.” He shrugged. “So…shall we?”

— —

Valentine still hesitated, but at last she nodded. However, instead of saying anything further she just made for the door. The strains of music were soft, but she’d followed quiet things before. It was how you found the animals in nature photography, when you didn’t hope they’d just come to you.

At first, she paused at each intersection long enough to make sure she knew which direction the music came from before continuing on. Soon she didn’t need to, as the source drew closer. Once they’d found the room, however, Val turned shy. She slowed down, hoping Anastasiy would continue ahead and let her trail behind -- not that she could say as much.

— —

He followed her, watching the way she moved, her feet barely making a sound, much like his. For a moment, he wondered if that was…no, best not think of things like that. It would be better not to make assumptions about her, either. Thus, he followed along a few paces behind her, always giving her more space if he felt she needed it. When she stopped in front of the room it seemed the music was coming from, he decided to enter first, letting her enter behind him if she wanted.

The girl with the cello looked awfully young, but maybe she wasn’t much younger or older than Galya or Valentine. He wasn’t sure. Whoever she was, she was very good at playing the cello.

He glanced over at Valentine and offered a small smile as he stood in the doorway to watch the girl play. He didn’t dare interrupt—he knew how much he hated it and could only imagine how much other musicians did, too—but waited patiently, enjoying the concerto. When she was finished, he smiled and offered applause.

“You are very good,” he said. “I am sorry if am interrupting, but I, too, play. Cello, that is. And…and piano. Maybe…maybe I could practice with you later? Have to get ready for brunch—lost track of time practicing ballet—but…um…” He shrugged, looking over at Valentine, who was lingering near the door, not yet brave enough to come in. She shrugged back. If there was just the two of them, maybe she’d come. She’d have to see.

interacting with @Amethyst

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

E L I A S K O K I N O S

^{P R I N C E o f P Ó L E M O S}

^{w i t h a p p e a r a n c e b y D A F N I K O K I N O S , _{P R I N C E S S o f P Ó L E M O S}}

interacting with @shylarah & @ayzrules

Elias turned when he heard Rhia’s voice and the closest thing to a smile he usually let appear on his face did. “Why, Rhia.” He stood, taking his plate and cup and moving to sit with the small group, Dafni following and sitting between her brother and Alejandro. “You will have to forgive me—between Alejandro’s fashion and his hair I was blinded. The man knows how to make an impression.” He managed to give Alejandro a small smile and a wink before his usual serious expression returned.

Dafni, however, smiled at Alejandro’s compliment. “Why thank you, Alejandro, though I don’t think you need to call me ‘princess’ anymore. We’re friends now.” She gave his outfit another cursory look and smiled. “I must say you look incredible as always. Loving the flowers—as always.” She laughed. “How are you doing?”

Elias looked over, studying Alejandro’s clothes first. The shirt fit well, the jeans, too, and damn him for wearing heels yet again. Well, he looked incredible as always. He remembered just how well a chiton fit, too. However, he let himself look at Alejandro’s face, maintaining a mask as he stuck a cream puff in his mouth. Five years had done a bit to slim his face, making that jawline even sharper and those cheekbones more deadly. But it was the earrings that got him. Hadn’t Alejandro worn those while in Pólemos?

He thought of the gifts they had exchanged that last morning, waking up in twisted sheets. Alejandro had set in his hand one of the earrings he’d been wearing the day before: a large cross with more decorations than he could have thought to add. Then again, that usually summed up anything the Castilyan wore. Usually it sat in his bedside table drawer, but this morning he’d slipped it in his pocket almost accidentally.

Almost.

He knew he’d see Alejandro, and thus wanted to see if he could show him beneath the table. I still remember, it would say. I still care.

But he couldn’t take it out in front of all these people, hence why he’d initially tried to draw Alejandro elsewhere, slightly more private. For now, though, it would stay in his pocket and he’d remain his usual stoic, military-trained impassive self. It was safest, if not for him, for Alejandro.

Elias’ Attire & FC

Sans tie; this is the actual length of his hair

Slight change: his hair is actually almost shoulder-length (see attire)

The Earring

Dafni’s Attire & FC

The shirt sits the way the leftmost version does

FC: Bianca Santos