PapaOso

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @princess Lottie, Victoria @Helo Callum, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

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The lovable bastard smirked as Charlotte giggled and bantered with Callum, her light-hearted mood was contagious to him. She’d been sipping on her drinks steadily, and he could see the alcohol loosening her up in ways he hadn’t seen before. The usual kindness in her eyes remained, but that barrier of caution seemed to be gone, replaced by a playful energy that was almost magnetic. He leaned back in his seat, watching as she teasingly suggested she might be Callum's sister. When she turned her gaze to him and claimed she’d already won the trophy for his suggested drinking contest, he couldn't help but grin.

“Oh, have you now?” His voice was low, teasing, his eyes dark with amusement as he leaned in slightly. “I’d be careful about making claims like that, Princess. I’m not one to be underestimated…Then again, perhaps neither are you.” He winked, letting his storm-gray eyes traveled over her face, studying the way her cheeks flushed as she sipped more of her drink.

Then, as Drake took to the piano and began his performance, Cassius’ gaze shifted to the stage. Drake introduced the next piece, and when he mentioned that the song had been composed by none other than Charlotte Vikena, his brows shot up. His attention snapped back to her, impressed but somehow unsurprised.

“Well, well… a legendary drinker and a composer. Is there anything you can’t do?” Cas teased, his voice carrying a note of admiration. He watched as her eyes darted around the room when Drake mentioned her name, a cheeky wave following as the attention turned toward her. She wasn’t shying away from the spotlight this time, and Cassius felt a swell of pride in her confidence.

He raised his glass. “To the talented Lady Vikena,” he exclaimed to their table, giving her another wink before downing the rest of his drink.

As the music played, Cassius found himself appreciating the beauty of the piece, though Cas could not help but wonder what it could have been if she had played it herself. However, as the last note of the song faded, things took a sudden turn. Drake stumbled, his words slurred, and the next thing Cassius knew, the birthday boy was tumbling off the stage, much to the gasps of the crowd. Cassius took it all in, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Drake’s mother, Victoria, who was already striding across the lawn with all the grace and fury of a storm. Cassius let out a low sigh as he watched the way she handled the situation.

“Does that one always make everything all about herself?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Victoria's hissed reprimands at Drake and the look on her face as she addressed Callum, who had gone to make sure Lord Edwards was alright, told him everything he needed to know about her. He couldn’t make out what exactly was said to the Prince, but honestly her expression was more than enough to understand that it wasn’t friendly.

The moment eventually settled and soon, Charlotte, her cheeks flushed and her eyes gleaming, turned back to him and Lorenzo, comparing Lorenzo to a ferret and suggesting that Cassius was more of a peacock. He couldn't help the laughter that escaped him. She was clearly tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, honestly so was he…which surprised him, but regardless, the way Lottie leaned closer, poking him in the chest with that mischievous grin, was too charming to ignore.

“A peacock, huh?” Cassius matched her energy in closing the distance, his voice dropping low, teasing her as his eyes locked onto hers. “So you’re saying I’m strutting around because I know I’m pretty?” His lips curled into a roguish grin. “Well, it’s nice to know you’re paying attention, Princess. Can’t say I’m surprised you find me beautiful.”

He held her gaze for a moment, the teasing edge in his voice softening slightly as he added, “But, if you think you’re the only one that can play this game you’re wrong.” He gave her a once over, studying her with his eyes inquisitively before continuing with confidence. “If I’m a peacock, Lottie…then that means that you are most definitely a swan. More than your share of elegance and grace, not to mention truly beautiful…but there's more to it than just that."

His expression shifted, becoming a bit more serious, though still laced with his signature charm and disarming smile. He took another sip of his cocktail and leaned even closer, this time his words were meant for her and her alone. He was so close, in fact, that the warmth of his breath could be felt on her neck. "Most people don’t realize just how fierce swans actually are. They're not just the most beautiful birds in the world, no, they will defend what they care about with everything they've got. That’s you, isn’t it? Underneath it all you’re the sweet girl everyone that matters can see…but that’s not all you are, is it Charlotte? I see more than that.”

He lingered in the moment before easing back into his seat, his eyes still locked on hers as if he could peer into her very core.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual Harassment, Objectification, and Degrading Behavior

TRIGGER WARNING

Sexual Harassment, Objectification, and Degrading Behavior

The content includes themes of manipulation, power abuse, and bizarre, degrading demands that might be distressing or uncomfortable for some readers.

Time: 10:30am
Location: King Edin’s Bedchamber

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"Someone grab a turkey leg! I need it to wave around like a scepter." Edin’s voice echoed down the hall just as the doors to his chamber were pulled almost closed.

The royal bedchamber was a chaotic display of decadence, transformed into a twisted theater for King Edin’s delusions. The air was thick with the heady scent of spilled brandy, perfume, and sweat, clinging to everything like a suffocating cloud. In the corner, a rack of elaborate gowns and accessories stood ready.

Beside the bed, a makeup artist stood silently, eyes cast downward, clutching a palette of powders, brushes, and paints. She had learned not to speak unless spoken to and to fulfill the king’s every whim without question.

He sprawled in the center of the grand bed, his crown perched crookedly on his head, eyes glazed with drunken delusion. His royal tunic had slipped halfway off his shoulder, revealing his soft, pale, hairy flesh, but he didn’t care. He was too far gone—drunk beyond reason, completely absorbed in his own twisted world of fantasy.

Surrounded by women, Edin’s smile twisted into something smug and self-satisfied. His fantasies had taken hold completely, and he no longer saw the women before him as simple courtesans. They were vessels for something greater, for the noblewomen he believed secretly loved him—every single one of them. To the king, courting season in Sorian should be a his spectacle, with the finest young gems of the realm vying for the privilege of his touch.

A consort knelt beside him, feeding him grapes one by one, as he slurred his words, barking commands at the women who shuffled around him like puppets, doing whatever ridiculous task he demanded.

“No, no, no!” he growled, waving his hand lazily. “You!” His bloodshot eyes fixed on a woman. “Put on the black wig… Yes, a wig! …And that gothic black gown! Darker! Gloomy!” He swirled his half-empty glass of brandy, spilling some on his already stained silk sheets. “Like a raven… a dark bird.” He s_hnorted to himself and leaned in, grabbing her chin. His grip tightened. “You’re too quiet, aren’t you?” His eyes were wide as he then spoke lowly to her, his grip on her chin tightening with every word. “Always watching, your face buried in a book, always too good for the rest of us. But I know better… You’re not sad. No, no… you’re something else.”

The woman scrambled to obey once he had freed her from his hold, picking a dark, raven-black wig from the collection and placing it over her head. She pulled a long, gothic gown from the rack and dressed herself quickly, avoiding Edin’s gaze as she completed the transformation.

Edin grinned, satisfied. “That’s more like it… “

He chuckled darkly before his eyes roamed to another woman, a redhead with trembling hands. “You,” he growled, his voice laced with cruel amusement. “Take off your shoes. No… step into the paint! Now!” He barked the order, waving his hand toward the tray of paint the artist had placed by the bed.

The woman hesitated, but Edin’s glare darkened. She stood there, frozen for a moment, before Edin barked again, “Move! Now! Walk across the room. Leave your mark. “

The redhead’s bare feet smeared the red paint across the floor as she walked, leaving dark, wet prints behind her. She wore a completely confused expression, despite the forced smile. Edin leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. ““Yes… Your father would hate this, wouldn’t he? But you don’t care. No, you’re here for me. Only me. You belong in this bed, at my feet, covered in paint like the whore you are.”

His eyes flicked to a blonde woman next, her hair cascading over her shoulders.“You,” he hissed, his voice dropping into something darker.“Your daddy just died, didn’t he? Poor little daddy’s girl—but now you’re the Varian whore, aren’t you? Left to be raised by those two lesbian cunts.” He laughed cruelly, the sound cutting through the room like a knife.“ “I can see it. You’ve got nothing left, but I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of… I always knew you wanted it.”

The blonde woman stiffened, her face pale as Edin’s words struck deep. She stepped forward, her hands trembling, but she did as he commanded, her eyes cast downward as she moved closer to him.

Without warning, Edin flopped back onto the bed and waved another woman over. “Rub oil on me! On my arms! My legs! Every inch of me must glisten!” he commanded with wild excitement. “I need to be shining, like the Gods intended!”

One of the courtesans scurried forward, oil in hand, nervously rubbing it into his arms and chest as he squirmed under her touch, basking in his own perceived glory. “Yes, yes… now rub it into my feet. I must have the best feet in the kingdom!” He burst into hysterical laughter, tossing his head back while smearing a dollop of whipped cream across his own chest. “I’m glorious! Lick that cream!”

After some time, his attention suddenly shifted again, this time to a brunette woman standing nearby.

He sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. “You, oh, you think you’re something special, don’t you? The diva,” he spat, suddenly accusing her, waving his hand dismissively. “A duchess. Act like it! No, be rude. Show me that attitude. You love being above everyone, don’t you? Announce it. Tell the world how much better you are than the rest of them.”

The brunette lifted her chin, her lips curling into a sneer as she adopted the haughty demeanor Edin demanded. “I am a duchess!” she declared, her voice cold and imperious. “And you are lucky to have me here. I don’t waste my time on anyone else.”

“Gooood,” Edin slurred, nodding with satisfaction.

But his mood shifted abruptly, his gaze swinging to a delicate blonde standing at the edge of the room. “You… the sweet one. The angelic countess. Oh, you’re always so sick, aren’t you? So fragile. Put on something soft… pale. You’re like an angel who could fall at any moment.” His voice grew more insidious. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you? Without me, you’d die. Cough for me, Liliane, cough!”

The blonde woman’s face paled, but she complied, slipping into a pale gown and coughing lightly, as if her breath were too weak to sustain her. Edin’s grin widened as he watched her, his ego swelling at the sight of her vulnerability.

And then, his eyes fell upon a dark-haired woman standing quietly in the corner, her hands nervously wringing her skirt. He licked his lips, his mind fully consumed by the delusion he had crafted for her, “You…” he slurred, pointing a shaky hand at a woman with dark hair. “Tie it back. With a ribbon. Make it neat, make it proper… Like her. “His voice lowered, thick with something darker, something twisted.

“You’re going to beg me now, aren’t you? Plead with me… tell me to spare your imbecile of stepfather. Cry…. I want to hear you cry!”His grin twisted as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper laced with sick delight, “You’ll have no one if I kill him. Only me.”

Her hands shook as she tied a dark ribbon in her hair, her fingers fumbling as she pulled her dark locks back. She approached him slowly, her voice trembling as she began to beg. “Please,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, “please, Your Majesty… spare him. He doesn’t understand...”

The words struck a nerve, triggering a flash of memory—the mother, in his bed, whispering similar words. He felt both disgust and a strange pull. As the woman’s sobs grew louder, her body trembling, Edin leaned in, watching her break apart before him. There was something almost satisfying about it—seeing her crumble like that. But it was also maddening. She was too much like her.

So Edin turned his attention. "Fetch me a bucket of milk!" he barked suddenly, eyes gleaming with a mad delight. "I want to bathe my hands in it. It makes them soft… like the hands of a king!"

As someone went to fetch him milk, he swiveled drunkenly to another woman with dark red hair.

“Kalliope!” he barked, though it wasn’t her name. He pointed vaguely at the woman. “Dress like Kalliope. Put on the tight dress. She always looks perfect—makes everyone look, but I know she’s doing it for me.” His words were slurred beyond recognition, his vision blurring, but he grinned widely. “Yes, you want to turn heads, don’t you? But in the end, you only care about me.”

The woman rushed to slip into a form-fitting dress, her face a mask of discomfort as she tried to embody the vision Edin so desperately clung to. “You think you’re so deadly but you’re just a fragile woman in my grasp.”

But then Edin’s eyes fell on a strawberry blonde woman at the edge of the room. His face twisted with drunken excitement as he recalled the girl in the wheelchair. “You! You need bruise makeup!” He nearly shouted, pointing wildly. “ Artist! Give her bruises now! And you must wear pants. I heard she likes pants. You’re tough… but bruised. You’ve been hurt. But I can fix it… I’m the one who can make it all better…”

The artist applied the bruise makeup to the girl, shading her face and neck as she slipped into a pair of pants, her expression hardening as she stepped forward with a defiant look. Edin’s grin widened, his satisfaction complete.

Suddenly, his glass clattered to the floor, and he leaned back, arms outstretched, his body sinking into the bed’s plush pillows. He let out a deep, slurred sigh, completely absorbed in his grand delusion. As another consort applied whip cream into his mouth, he began to mumble something unintelligible, his thoughts drifting to another, more unattainable fantasy.

After a moment, he started up again. “…And you… you!” he slurred, pointing at a tall, auburn-haired woman who had yet to speak. “Put on the crown… and the royal robe. You’re her… the Queen. Not my queen, no… no… the other one.” His eyes glazed over, unfocused as he tried to picture Queen Rosa Camilia of Varian. “Strong… tall… thinks she’s better than me. But she’ll fall for me too. They all do. All of them.” He cackled, his voice tinged with desperation.

The consort reluctantly dressed in a royal robe and placed a crown on her head. She approached him stiffly, unsure how to act, but Edin was too far gone to notice.

He was deep in his delusion, convinced that every woman—whether noble or queen, commoner or consort—wanted him, adored him, needed him. The reality of his kingdom, of the crumbling control he had, faded from his mind as he let himself sink deeper into the fantasy.

"Take the velvet drapes from the window and wrap me in them. I want to feel like a king in a cocoon!" he shouted like a madman with a self-satisfied grin. "Yes, tuck me in tight. Make sure there’s no draft!"

“They all love me…” he muttered, his voice slurring as his eyes fluttered closed. “They… all love me… I’m the King. The only King…” As he drifted further into drunken oblivion, the room grew quieter. The consorts exchanged glances, unsure whether to stay or leave, as the powerful King Edin laid swaddled in the bed, snoring obnoxiously.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @princess Lottie, @Helo Callum, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

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As Cassius leaned back in his chair, his arm was still draped casually around Charlotte’s shoulders as Callum’s remarks hung in the air. He chuckled at the Prince’s sudden arrival, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Ah, Your Highness. I do not yet know you well, but I might have guessed that shots would bring you running.”

His charming eyes sparkled with mischief as he raised his glass to acknowledge Callum, though his attention lingered for a moment on the odd expression Callum wore as he stared at Charlotte.

Hmm. Interesting. Cassius wasn’t blind to the curiosity—and perhaps something more—that flickered in Callum’s eyes. Not that it mattered. Everyone had their secrets, and Cassius wasn’t one to judge based on idle glances. But the brief moment of curiosity made him wonder just what it was about Charlotte that seemed to draw out such a gaze from the man.

His smirk widened at Callum’s apology for the "bastard" comment. Cassius waved it off with a dismissive hand, having never been offended by the satire.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Your Highness. ‘Bastard’ is hardly an insult in my world. In fact, I’d say it’s a term of endearment for someone like me.”

His gaze darkened slightly, though the smirk never left his face.

“And as for my father—” he paused, letting the weight of that word settle between them, “—let’s just say that so far it seems we share similar tastes in wine… and little else.”

The tension broke when the waiter appeared with a tray of cocktails and shots, and Callum seized the opportunity to raise a toast. Cassius watched with a bemused expression as the prince lifted his glass toward both him and Lottie, insinuating that the two of them were an item.

A couple? Cassius thought, hiding his amusement behind a sip of his drink. He glanced down at Charlotte, her blush deepening as she instinctively raised her glass in response. The sight was enough to make him grin. There was something oddly endearing about the way she flushed at the slightest provocation, even when she clearly disagreed with the assumption. Cassius leaned closer to her, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper as she began her objection.

“Well, Princess, it seems we’ve fooled him. Who knew two days of you even tolerating me would make us look so… believable?”

He winked at her, enjoying the playful tension, but his amusement was short-lived when he felt her stiffen beneath his arm. His banter faded as he noticed the distant look in her eyes. Charlotte had frozen mid-toast, her hand hovering in the air as if she’d forgotten where she was. It was subtle, but Cassius was attuned enough to recognize when someone was slipping away, trapped in some memory or emotion far beyond the present moment.

His grip on her shoulder tightened ever so slightly, not enough to be alarming, but enough to hopefully ground her. His eyes softened, watching her carefully. There you are… somewhere far away. But were? He studied her face, noting the tension in her features, the way her gaze seemed to drift beyond the room.

Cassius had seen that look before—mostly on the battlefield, or rather in the aftermath of one. It was a look he would see in the eyes of comrades who had stared too long into the abyss. He didn’t know where she had gone, but Charlotte, for the moment at least, was gone. When her gaze finally flickered back to the present, her shoulders slumped slightly as if she had returned from a long journey.

Charlotte cleared her throat, her attempt at recovery almost painfully awkward as she raised her glass to the group with forced brightness.

“Right! A toast!” she exclaimed.

Cassius didn’t let the moment linger. He kept his arm around her, offering her a small, knowing smile.

“Well, well,” he drawled, raising his own glass with exaggerated enthusiasm. “To wonderful company and to Lord Drake, indeed.” He tipped his head toward Charlotte with a smirk. “And to your impressive ability to down an entire cocktail like an absolute legend.”

He grinned as her eyes widened in realization; the empty glass still clutched in her hand.

“I’ve never seen someone drink with such… gusto, my lady.” The teasing note in his voice was unmistakable, but it was softened by a hint of admiration. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to keep up with me.”

Cassius downed his own cocktail in one smooth motion, setting the empty glass on the table with a sharp clink.

“But, I suppose if anyone here is going to match me drink for drink, I’d be honored if it were you.”

He leaned in a little closer, voice lowering to something more private.

“Though, if you keep that pace, I’ll be the one carrying you out of here by the end of this little shindig.”

Cassius gave her shoulder another light squeeze, offering her a moment of reprieve before he turned his attention back to the group. With a swift, fluid motion, he reached for another cocktail from the tray and took a long sip, savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat.

“Now,” he said, his voice more animated as he addressed the group, “If we’re all done with the toasts and pleasantries, how about we get to the real fun? Because as much as I enjoy the conversation…” He grabbed one of the shots that had been delivered along with the cocktails and swirled it gently in his hand, watching the liquid catch the light. “I’m far more interested in finding out which of you can actually hold your liquor.”

His challenge hung in the air, playful and provocative. Cassius’s smirk returned, that signature roguish grin that seemed to invite trouble. But even as he shifted the energy of the table, his arm remained around Charlotte, his touch steady and reassuring.

He downed the second cocktail with a flourish, setting the glass aside as his gaze swept the table. His attention briefly flicked to Lorenzo, a subtle reminder that the man was still very much a part of this tense little gathering, despite the earlier spat. But for now, Cassius was content to let the moment breathe, the sting of his earlier words fading beneath the alcohol and the company. In fact, the drinks had already begun to loosen him up… quite a bit, in fact.

“Well then,” he said, his voice light and teasing as his eyes flicked between Callum and Charlotte. There was somehow already the slightest hint of slurring in his words, an effect of the extra special cocktails they had been provided. “Shall we see who can keep up?”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Duke Gideon Edwards

Time: 10am
Location: Drake Edwards Birthday Party at the Edwards Estate Backyard
Mentions/Interactions: @Tpartywithzombi Ariella, @CitrusArms Stratya

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Gideon approached with a calm, paternal grace, watching Ariella’s gleeful exchange with Captain Stratya. Despite his initial worry, seeing his daughter’s flushed cheeks and the slight wobble in her stance made him relax somewhat. It wasn’t ideal, of course...his daughter was clearly drunk...but there was something reassuring about her carefree, unfiltered state. And to be fair, if he had been forced to stay in the dungeon for a night like his poor daughter, he’d need a stiff drink himself.

He smiled down at her as she jumped in surprise, clearly not expecting him.

"Father..." Ariella gasped, placing a hand over her chest as if to calm her racing heart. Her laugh, light and unrestrained, made him chuckle softly.

"You startled me…I was just talking to the captain here about chocolate and mead."

Gideon raised an eyebrow, both amused and intrigued.

"Chocolate and mead, is it?" His voice was warm, filled with the affectionate humor of a father who relished in his daughter’s presence.

Stratya, however, responded in her heavy accent.

"'Aye, aye, t' choc'la’e’s reyt fine, i’tis. I was jus' sayin’ I’ll ‘ave tae try an’ pu’ a choc’la’e swirrl in m’ nex’ batch o’ sweet brreads..."

Gideon blinked, trying his best to keep up with what Stratya was saying. Her accent was one he had trouble with despite his best efforts. It was to the point where it might as well have been another language entirely. His mind sifted through the syllables like trying to catch leaves in a storm...something about bread and... mead? Chocolate?

He nodded along anyway, a kind smile plastered on his face as he made a mental note not to ask too many questions. He didn’t want to offend the knight, and honestly, he found the whole situation rather amusing. His daughter, freshly released from the dungeon, chatting merrily about sweets while clearly intoxicated, and here he was pretending he understood a word of what was being said, all the while they were all gathered at a party for his very own son. What better way to spend the day.

"Ah, yes. Sounds delicious." He replied, his tone easy and warm. He wasn’t sure if that was the right response, but it seemed polite enough.

As Stratya continued, Gideon’s attention flickered back to Ariella, whose cheeks were glowing from more than just the alcohol. Her animated expression, the way she leaned forward with a playful grin, reminded him of the little girl who used to climb trees and tear through the garden barefoot. That untamed spirit of hers had always been both a joy and a challenge, and it seemed even now, despite her recent troublemaking, it was alive and well. How proud he was to see that spark in her continue to burn bright, it was something he adored about his daughter, despite the complications it sometimes came with.

His lips twitched into a fond smile as he reached for one of the colorful cocktails a passing server offered, glancing at the vibrant drink for a moment before taking a sip. The flavor was unexpectedly incredible, and smoother than he had anticipated. So good in fact, that he took another…even larger swig of the beverage, and then one more to finish off the glass. He paused, brow furrowing slightly as the alcohol hit his senses more sharply and way more quickly than it should have. Strange. He could hold his liquor well enough, but this was... something else. It mattered not, as what could he do about it now other than be careful. Perhaps just one more? Surely that would be fine.

There was an undeniable affection in his eyes as he turned back to his daughter with now flushed cheeks that matched her own. A quiet pride lingered in his expression that softened the edges of his smile. His daughter, for all her antics, was the light of his life, and he was simply grateful that she still found joy in cutting it up with her old man.

Leaning closer to her, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself, my dear." He said, his voice full of warmth despite the slight teasing.

"But perhaps you should slow down with those drinks, hmm?” He winked.

He cast a glance back at Stratya, who was still talking...about what, he couldn’t be sure. But her enthusiasm was unmistakable. Whatever the topic, she was clearly passionate about it. He gave her another smile, nodding along with what he hoped was an appropriate amount of interest, while internally trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

For all of the misfortune in not being able to understand the Captain, he found her quite admirable and honestly endearing. Of course, he had also heard just how competent she was at her job, and given the nature of the world lately…he had to admit he was happy to know that she was here. It’s good to have someone like her around at an event like this. Everyone was that much safer with the addition of her presence.

His eyes briefly moved to the ground below as he acknowledged internally how much more enjoyable the company of these two were than those at his table. Noticing his daughters bare feet, Gideon couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath.

“Shoes never were your favorite, were they?” He mused, shaking his head slightly. His tone was teasing, but there was an unmistakable undertone of affection. He was proud of her, for better or worse, and he wouldn’t have changed a thing about her wild spirit.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

The Help

Location: Edwards Estate Backyard
Time: Morning
Mentions: EVERYONE AT THE PARTY @Rodiak Nahir/Zarai @Tpartywithzombi Ariella @Silverpaw Wulfric @princess Charlotte, @PapaOso Bastard @Helo Callum/Rohit @CitrusArms Stratya @Funnyguy Lorenzo @Lava Alckon Drake/Farim @Potter Olivia @JJ Doe Ryn

The clatter of trays and the hum of idle conversation filled the air as the servants flitted back and forth across the lawn, weaving between the finely dressed guests. Amid the sea of flowing gowns and tailored suits, three young waitresses found brief moments to huddle near the refreshments table, their arms laden with empty glasses and half-eaten plates.

“I swear, if she makes one more comment about how uneven the napkins are folded, I’ll scream,” the first servant, a brunette with tired eyes, grumbled under her breath. She shifted a tray of champagne glasses, her back aching from all of the bending and carrying. “It’s like she thinks we’re her personal slaves, not just staff.”

“You’re telling me,” the second woman, a fiery redhead, muttered as she arranged another platter of hors d'oeuvres. “Duchess Victoria is always like this. ‘Do this, do that. Not fast enough. Not good enough.’” Her voice pitched higher, mimicking the Duchess's haughty tone. “She doesn’t even look at us half the time, like we’re beneath her precious gaze.”

“She’s a bitch, is what she is,” the third, a petite blonde, said with a smirk. “Remember that time she made me redo the entire dessert table because the color of the plates didn’t match her dress? She didn’t even notice when I changed it!”

The three women shared a quiet laugh, but their amusement quickly faded as the reality of the situation set back in. Their eyes darted back to the party, where Victoria was gliding among the guests, her chin held high, surveying the event with the same cold superiority she always did.

“I’m so sick of her,” the brunette muttered darkly. “We work our asses off for what? A few silver coins and her acting like we’re dirt beneath her heels.”

“Yeah, while she throws around her jewels and diamonds, pretending she’s some queen,” the redhead added, her voice dripping with disdain. “Meanwhile, we’re lucky if we get leftovers.”

The blonde bit her lip, glancing toward the table of drinks where trays of expensive wines and liquors were being passed around. An idea flickered in her eyes, and she leaned in closer to her companions, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You know… we could do something about it.”

The other two looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?” the brunette asked.

“I mean,” the blonde said, a sly grin creeping onto her face, “we could give her and all these rich assholes a little surprise. In their drinks.”

The redhead raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on…”

“We just… mix things up a little. Make the drinks a little stronger. Or maybe… a lot stronger. ” The blonde’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she glanced toward the untouched bottles of liquor.

"Won't they be able to tell?" the redhead asked curiously.

“Not with the tricks I have up my sleeve, trust me...I have my ways. the blonde promised with a wink.

The brunette let out a low whistle, catching on. “Oh, I like the sound of that. Imagine Duchess Victoria stumbling around, making a fool of herself. It’d be poetic justice.”

“Not just her,” the redhead added with a wicked grin. “All of them. Let’s make them all regret treating us like dirt.”

As they straightened up, trays once again in hand, the blonde gave one final glance toward the liquor table, a secret smile playing on her lips.

“Let’s get to work.”

WARNING ALL PREMADE COCKTAILS HAVE HIGH INCREASED INTOXICATION EFFECTS! GO TO BAR FOR FRESH COCKTAIL OR DRINK WINE/BEER/ETC IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO PARTICIPATE

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Duke Gideon Edwards & Duchess Victoria Edwards

Time: 10am
Location: Drake Edwards Birthday Party at the Edwards Estate Backyard
Mentions/Interactions:@FunnyGuy Lorenzo @Helo Callum @PapaOso Cassius @princess Charlotte @Tpartywithzombi Ariella

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The sun bathed the sprawling lawn of the Edwards estate in warmth, highlighting the luxurious decorations Duchess Victoria had painstakingly arranged for Drake's birthday. Tables draped in fine linen were filling with guests, and now that the drama of the previous moment had become smoke beginning to settle…the air grew slightly less tense.

Duke Gideon swirled the cocktail in his hand as his eyes took in the craftmanship of the beverage. Taking a sip, he relished its taste, letting the rich flavors linger on his palate. Victoria sat beside him; her eyes alight with mischief as she aimed a teasing remark at Count Calbert Damien. "It seems your son has quite the taste, doesn’t he, Calbert?" she cooed, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Fancying Lady Charlotte, of all people. I do hope the boy knows what he’s getting himself into. Poor girls always seemed a bit... unhinged to me. And we all know what they say about women of her type. I mean just look to the newspapers…if what they say about her is true, is she even worth your son’s time, Calbert?"

Gideon stiffened slightly; his gaze fixed on the pair in question. The conversation around him became naught but a distant hum as he looked to Cassius, who had his arm draped casually around Charlotte. The man’s posture was effortlessly confident, while Charlotte, with that striking dark hair and quiet grace, seemed to brighten at his presence. Despite Victoria's dismissive words, Gideon saw something in Charlotte that Victoria refused to acknowledge…a resilience, a strength. She was, after all, Walter’s daughter.

He studied Cassius more carefully. The man’s brash charm and the way he commanded attention was strikingly familiar. It was something Walter himself had too, though Walter’s confidence had been more tempered, less raw. For better or worse, the similarities were unmistakable. Gideon sighed quietly, unsure of how to feel. A Vikena and a Damien… That’ll be the day.

Victoria’s voice broke his thoughts. "I mean, Charlotte always had a knack for drawing attention, didn't she? It’s just a shame it’s never for the right reasons. And Lorenzo! Don’t get me started on that fool again, but that was quite the display… I fear the lessons he is instilling in Charlotte with outbursts like that will only make her even more intolerable.” Her words came out brimming with disdain as she reached for her own drink and took quite the sip. “Oh and speaking of drawing attention…Seems like Callum is going to fit right in at the table with those Vikena freaks. Don’t worry, Calbert, your son will surely see what we see in no time."

Gideon’s jaw tightened, though he said nothing, unwilling to ignite another pointless argument on the matter. Instead, his attention shifted, as out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar figure approaching. Ariella.

His heart clenched.

He had been so worried about her. After all, spending the night in the royal dungeon was no small matter, and her latest rebellion had left Gideon in a storm of concern.

"Excuse me," he murmured to Victoria, who was too absorbed in her conversation to even notice his departure.

Gideon strode across the lawn toward his daughter, his tall frame cutting a path through the festivities. His voice was low but filled with fatherly concern when he reached her.

"Ariella…" he said, his hand resting gently on her shoulder, "Are you alright, my sweet?"

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @FunnyGuy Lorenzo, @princess Lottie

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“Cassius, a word?

The man’s tone was enough to convey exactly what was about to happen, but it wasn’t only the tone that Cassius picked up on, it was the Duke’s body language, his expression, and the subtle cues of rage that were bubbling juuuust beneath the surface. Predictable, really. It was a pity considering the way he found Lorenzo’s defense against Cas’s own father to be rather brave and poignant just moments ago. All the same, Cassius turned to the man with practiced politeness and listened to what he had to say.

He had been here before. Another father, one of many he had encountered over the years, giving him the speech. It didn’t take long for the corners of his lips to slowly begin curling into the arrogant smirk he was renowned for. The wolfish nature of his grin only expanded as Lorenzo’s little request shifted into a not-so-well-veiled threat.

The audacity of Lorenzo was amusing, at first, but this…this was more akin to hilarity. To question his intentions was one thing, but the man had displayed the sheer impudence to threaten him moments after insulting his honor and his family name. Plus, what had he done to conjure such a harsh response? Nothing. His arm around Lady Vikena’s waist had been nothing more than a gesture of reassurance among the chaos that Lorenzo himself had caused.

But fine. If the man insisted on painting him as the villain…

“Are you finished?” He said, his tone unhurried, almost bored. He casually reached out, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from Lorenzo’s shoulder, an excuse to lean in just a bit closer to the man as to ensure his words were for him alone. “I’m truly not sure what I’ve done to earn such ire, your grace, but you are fortunate that I am a man forgiving of such…outbursts. Insults, threats…all in the span a moment, really. Is that how a man of your status…a father...should conduct himself?” A bemused, haughty little laugh accompanied his words as he let them hang in the air long enough for them to settle before he continued. “How amusing, the thought of a street-rat bastard such as myself lecturing a Duke in the art of decorum. I mean look at you…”

Cas’s eyes glanced up and down at Lorenzo’s attire. He moved his hands to straighten the lapels of the man’s audacious and honestly ridiculous jacket. “What comes next, are you going to strike me? No? Then I suggest you pull yourself together and act like a real father for a moment.” Leaning down further, Cassius dropped his voice to a full-fledged whisper. “And to suggest that your own daughter may be nothing more than an hors d'oeuvre. How belittling. Plus, maybe I don’t want just a little taste? Maybe what I want is the full meal?”

It was at that fortuitous moment that a waiter arrived with a tray full of cocktails. “Wonderful!” Cas exclaimed with excitement. “This table is in desperate need of some drinks, wouldn’t you say so Duke Vikena?” He leaned away from Lorenzo to watch the waiter place a finely made cocktail down upon each of the table's placemats. Cassius then addressed the woman. “In fact, love, why don’t you go grab us some shots as well?”

As the waiter was departing, Cas could see Lottie returning from her greeting the nearby group. Standing, he pulled her seat out for her sweetly with a little bow and as they sat together, he turned his charming gaze to Lorenzo and smiled at the Duke as his arm found itself around the shoulders of Charlotte Vikena, pulling her closer once again.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @FunnyGuy Lorenzo, @princess Lottie, @Helo Callum, @Lava Alckon Drake

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And there it was, as if the universe itself had a grand flair for theatrics…The drama.

Throughout it all Cassius remained unperturbed, completely unbothered. To him, being labeled a bastard was merely water off a duck’s feathers. The man had been called worse, much worse, in his time, and honestly he was humored by the boldness of Lorenzo, or perhaps the stupidity, whichever was more accurate. The way the man so blatantly disrespected his name in such a public display was almost too good to be true. Initially, Cassius was impressed by the audacity, but his curiosity quickly shifted to his father…he was eager to see how the old man would react.

Cas simply stood there with his patented smile, watching the events unfold like a play before him. However, even before his father could get up from his chair, his attention shifted to Charlotte. She, clearly, was not as indifferent about it all as himself. He could almost feel the discomfort radiating from her as her eyes studied Lorenzo with concern. She tried to deescalate the situation, feigning ill as she urged Loreno to sit with her.

While others around him also attempted to calm the situation, their efforts proved futile. Much of the chaos became mere background noise to Cassius as he pondered ways to alleviate Charlotte’s discomfort. He had numerous strategies in mind, but he knew himself well enough to understand that most of them would only exacerbate the situation. His contemplation was abruptly interrupted by another man vigorously declaring him a bastard, nearly eliciting an audible chuckle from Cassius. The sheer chaos of it all was, in a strange way, quite delightful. The man extended his hand in greeting, and Cassius shook it with a smirk, his amusement evident in his expression. Immediately he could tell, even from that briefest of interactions, that he would like this man

Before he was able to properly respond, the dramatic way that his father slid from his chair to confront the Duke drew his attention. The confrontation only added to the entertainment and spectacle of this debacle, yet despite that fact that the man’s words themselves were not disrespectful of her…the tone in which his father used to speak about Charlotte stirred something within Cassius. For the first time since this chaotic little fiasco began, Cas’s brows furrowed ever so slightly, and his smirk fell into a more neutral expression.

Despite his initial recklessness causing the commotion in the first place, Lorenzo’s defense of himself and Charlotte was admirable. As Lorenzo moved to leave, Drake, the birthday boy himself approached to make introductions. Cassius matched the man’s enthusiasm as he shook his hand and greeted him in kind.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Lord Edwards. And don’t worry too much my good sir, it takes more than just some careless words to antagonize me. Plus, the Duke apologized so all is well in my book. I just hope the whole thing hasn’t put a damper on your celebration.” His charm was effervescent as his words flowed, and he paused to consider the man’s offer before continuing. “I’d love the chance to grab a drink with you at some point, but for the moment I need to ensure that Lady Vikena gets somewhere she can cool off a bit. I don’t believe she’s feeling well.”

As Cassius continued speaking to Drake, his arm slipped effortlessly around Charlotte’s waist, drawing her closer. With a smirk, he added, “Feel free to join us if you get a moment.” His gaze then moved to Callum. “And you, stranger... consider yourself invited.” There was a slight pause as his smile turned playful. “In fact, I insist on your presence.” Sealing the invitation, Cassius flashed the man a teasing wink.

His neutral expression then returned for the briefest of moments as Cassius found himself turning to look his father in the eyes just as he gave Charlotte’s waist a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Shifting his attention fully to her, his voice dropped to a soft, calming murmur that existed just above a whisper. “What do you say, Lottie…shall we escape this circus for a moment and get back to the fun we’ve been having all morning?”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @princess Charlotte, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

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As Cassius dismounted from Tempestes, he extended his hand to Charlotte with a natural ease and offered her a charming smile. She took it, her touch warm and delicate, and for a moment, he found himself lingering in that simple contact as she did not release his hand immediately. He certainly had no reason to complain.

He followed her gaze as it swept over the Edwards' estate. It was far grander than the places he'd called home over the years, and even more impressive than the mind-blowingly beautiful Damien estate he was only just beginning to get used to.

Charlotte’s admiration for the place was evident in the wonder that painted her expression as she explored it with her eyes, and that spark in her gaze told Cassius more than words ever could. It was as if she was drinking in every detail; the marble statues standing sentinel along the walkway, the vibrant gardens bursting with color, the way the sunlight danced off the fountain's crystal-clear water…almost like each element was weaving its way into her very soul.

"The Edwards have always had a flair for the dramatic..." Charlotte remarked, her tone light, drawing him back from his thoughts. He smirked at her words, the corners of his mouth lifting in response to her observation. She was insightful, something he was growing to appreciate about her. She understood the grandeur, but there was no detectable trace of envy or insecurity in her tone, only an appreciation of what it was.

“It’s quite stunning.” Cassius exclaimed simply as he handed the reins of Tempestes to the stable hand and watched as Charlotte retrieved a gift from the saddlebag. She turned to him with that playful smile that always seemed to soften the edges of his mind. "Onward!" she commanded with a gentle lift of her fist. He chuckled, the sound a touch softer than usual, as if her infectious energy had already worked its magic on him. Plus, she simply looked adorable as she did so.

As they walked toward the yard, the sounds of the party reached his ears, a soft melody intertwining with the hum of conversation. Cassius wasn't a stranger to gatherings like this, but they usually involved more drunkards and ne'er-do-wells and fewer distinguished guests. He felt the weight of eyes on them as they moved through the crowd, his presence, especially so close to her, undoubtedly drawing attention. But it was Charlotte who held his focus, her graceful demeanor an easy draw for his eyes and thoughts.

"So many guests, and it's still early... Lord Drake is very beloved," Charlotte said softly, her voice carrying a note of admiration. He glanced at her, the way her eyes lit up as she took in the scene around them. It wasn't just the admiration in her voice that caught his attention, it was the way she saw these people, the way she always saw something good in them, and in places, and even in moments. It was a perspective so different from his own in many ways, so untainted by the bitterness and cynicism he carried so deep. But it was just so her.

As he continued to process her words, Cassius's grin faltered for the briefest moment. For some reason, Drake’s name on her lips tasted bitter, a sharp edge cutting through the easy charm he wore so well. He quickly smoothed his expression, but the feeling lingered like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch, and a single...slightly petty, thought crossed his mind. dRaKe iS vErY bElOvEd. Cas thought to himself with a sly grin.

When she mentioned his father, Cassius felt a familiar but brief tension coil in his chest. Calbert Damien stood among other nobles at the table and Charlotte led them over. “Father…Countess.” He said in greeting to Calbert and Liliane, his patented smirk playing on his lips.

The Duke of Soralia greeted Charlotte with genuine affection, which warmed his heart considering how the man’s wife didn’t even seem to acknowledge her presence. "You’re always welcome here, Lady Lottie." Duke Gideon said, his voice rich with warmth. Cassius noted how Charlotte seemed to brighten at his words, her smile softening into something genuine. It was more than clear that they held one another in high regard. He then stepped up to the Duke and Duchess with a subtle bow.

“I’m glad we can finally be formally introduced.” His words were absolutely brimming with charm as he spoke. “Cassius Vael, or rather Damien. Lovely to meet you both.”

With that, he watched as Lottie moved to the next person at the table. His eyes lingered on her as she spoke with her stepfather. She moved through this world with such grace, navigating the intricate social dynamics in a way that only further endeared her to him. Her kindness was not a facade; it was as much a part of her as her striking blue eyes or her inquisitive nature.

As she spoke, Cassius found himself captivated by the way she interacted with others and how she bridged the gap between formality and warmth. It wasn’t her words alone, but also the way she leaned in just a little, as if the person she was speaking to was the only one who mattered in that moment. There was a sincerity in her gaze that made even the most guarded souls drop their defenses, and Cassius found himself marveling at it, wondering how she managed to turn every encounter into something so... real. She seemed to have the gift of making people feel seen and valued, and it wasn’t a manipulation or tactic...It’s just how she was. There was a strength in her gentleness, a power in her kindness, and he couldn’t help but smile when he was around her.

For the briefest of moments, something about that realization gave him pause. However, he brushed it away as quickly as it came. Stepping forward, he properly introduced himself to Lorenzo with swagger and panache.

“It’s not every day that a man like me gets to meet a Duke, let alone two at one table.” He jested. Cassius leaned in, a mischievous gleam in his storm-gray eyes, his voice dropping to a soft whisper that was laced with playful reverence. “But between you and me…” He murmured, his words like velvet. “There's no contest. The award for the most impressive Duke at this gathering…well, it’s a foregone conclusion, my good sir. That ensemble of yours? Simply flawless. Every detail, immaculate.” His eyes flicked over the Duke’s attire, appreciating the rich fabric, the finely tailored lines, and odd yet wonderful shade of pink as if he was savoring a fine wine. After giving the Duke a moment to drink in the compliments before continuing. “I’m Cassius Damien, your Grace. It’s an honor to meet you”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

⛮ Milo St. Claire ⛮

Time: 8:00 am

Location:The Most Luxurious Suite Imaginable

Mention: N/A

Mr. St. Claire awoke to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the heavy velvet drapes of his lavish Victorian-era suite. The golden rays kissed the intricate patterns on the ceiling, casting delicate shadows that danced upon the walls. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, fluttered open to the sight of the women around him, their forms draped lazily over the satin sheets. Each one lay in a state of blissful repose and relative undress, their skin glowing in the morning light as their breathing synchronized with the gentle rise and fall of Milo's chest.

A small, knowing smile played on his lips as he stretched, his muscles flexing beneath the warmth of the bedding. The sheets slipped off his body as he shifted, revealing the sculpted contours of his chest and abdomen, the result of years of meticulous care and discipline. The women stirred slightly at his movement, but Milo was already slipping out of bed, his bare feet padding softly on the plush carpet.

Milo reached for the silk robe draped over a nearby chair, its fabric as smooth and luxurious as his very touch. He let it fall around his shoulders, the material cascading down his muscular frame, clinging just enough to accentuate his physique before he loosely tied it at his waist. Confidently, he made his way to the washroom.

The room greeted him with the soft scent of lavender and rosewater, a testament to his fastidious nature. A large, ornate mirror dominated one wall, its gilded frame catching the light in a manner that made the entire room feel like a work of art. Milo approached the water basin, hazel eyes glinting with the usual warmth that had earned him the moniker "Mr. Sunshine."

He cupped his hands under the cool water, splashing it over his face in a ritual that had become second nature. As the droplets trickled down his skin, his gaze lifted to the mirror. What he saw there was not his perfect face as would be expected, but instead the reflection staring back at him was... wrong.

The distortion was subtle at first, a slight ripple that made the lines of his face appear fluid, almost melting into one another. He blinked, expecting the anomaly to pass, but it only deepened. The once-kind eyes darkened, and his chiseled features warped as if the mirror had become a portal to a world where everything familiar was twisted into something uncanny.

Milo’s breath caught in his throat as he stood locked in a silent stare with whatever his eyes were seeing there in the mirror. The moments stretched out, each second laden with a growing tension that felt out of place in the otherwise serene morning. The smile he’d worn just moments ago was gone, replaced by an expression that was hard to decipher… anger perhaps, or simply just intensity.

Then, with a blink of his eyes after a long time of not doing so, the distortion faded, leaving his reflection as it should have always been; perfect, composed, untroubled. Yet, Milo found himself unable to tear his gaze away, the afterimage of that warped visage lingering in his mind.

He let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing as he forced himself to look away from the mirror. With a final glance at the water basin, he turned and left the washroom, his expression shifting back to one of serenity and confidence as he made his way back to the bed where the women, now awake, were waiting for him.