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princess female Member

STATUS: I wanna be a cowboy, baby 1 mo ago
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Current I wanna be a cowboy, baby
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I spit like awogarpa and I ain't afraid to step up to the plate. You'll see what happens next, Guillermo. You'll see.
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I love PapaOso
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Those aren't laces. Those are my toe nails.
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I spit like awogarpa and I ain't afraid to step up to the plate. You'll see what happens next, Guillermo. You'll see.
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In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 24 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
FLASHBACK

Felix & Marciano


Time: Late Evening of the 26th
Location: The Gentlemen's Grill and Cabaret
Mention: @Potter Olivia


The dim, smoke-filled air of The Gentlemen’s Grill and Cabaret was acrid with the thick aroma of cigars and aged whiskey, and the sound of mellow jazz cutting through the air. At a table tucked into a corner of the room, away from the main commotion, sat Felix Ivanov and Marciano Giordano. Felix leaned back in his chair, one leg draped over the other, a glass of amber liquid swirling lazily in his hand. His youthful features, framed by slightly wavy dark hair, bore a grin that had gotten him both out of and into trouble countless times. Across from him, Marciano sat upright, his posture impeccable, his dark suit tailored to perfection. His sharp eyes watched Felix with an unerring focus that only hinted at the complexity of his thoughts.

A server approached with their meals, setting down a bone-in ribeye steak for Felix and a plate of venison chops with red wine reduction for Marciano. The rich scents mingled with the ever-present haze of cigars. Felix wasted no time, slicing into his steak with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“So,” Marciano began, his voice low and steady as he reached for his glass. “I hear you had quite the… performance at the warehouse last night.” He took a sip, his gaze unwavering as he set the glass back down.

Felix’s grin widened, and he leaned forward as though about to share the punchline of a joke. “Performance? Oh, Marciano, don’t undersell me like that. It was a masterpiece. The flames, the chaos, the girl scrambling for her life—it was art.” He gestured broadly, nearly knocking over his whiskey in the process.“And as for that little fire starter? Let’s just say I scared the magic right out of her. Turns out, she’s got more than just attitude—she’s a bona fide witch bitch.” He leaned back with an air of triumph, casually swirling his whiskey as though he hadn’t just described an act of arson with the enthusiasm of a theater critic praising a masterpiece.

Marciano's brow lifted ever so slightly with a glimmer of intrigue. “A witch, you say?” He mused, “Interesting. But tell me, Felix—how good is she? Are we talking about someone who can make parlor tricks, or is she capable of something more… substantial?” He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as his expression shifted to one of calculated consideration. “Because if she’s truly talented, that little display of yours may have just handed us a very useful asset—or, at the very least, someone worth keeping a closer eye on.The question, Felix… do you think she can be controlled, or is she more trouble than she’s worth?”

“Controlled?” he echoed, tilting his head as if tasting the word. “That depends on your definition. If by controlled, you mean cowed into submission, then maybe with the proper torture techniques. She’s got fire—literally and figuratively. But if you mean... redirected? Manipulated? Played like a fiddle in one of those stuffy orchestras you like, then yeah, I think she’s ripe for the taking.”

Marciano regarded Felix silently for a moment, his sharp gaze giving nothing away. He tapped a finger against the side of his glass. “Interesting,” he murmured at last. “If she’s as raw as you say, she could be molded into a tool. But raw power without discipline can be as dangerous to us as it is to our enemies. You’ve made a mess with her, Felix. One that may yield opportunity—but one that could also burn us in the end.”

His tone hardened slightly as he continued. “If you think she can be steered, then prove it. Find her weaknesses. Test her limits. And most importantly…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a sharp edge. “Make sure she understands the cost of defiance. The Black Rose doesn’t tolerate loose ends.”

Felix’s grin only widened, his confidence unshaken. “Oh, don’t worry, Marciano. I’ve got this. By the time I’m done, she won’t know which way is up. I’ll make sure she dances to our tune—or burns trying to fight it.” He leaned back with a flourish, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to turning little witches into loyal pawns.”

Marciano didn’t raise his glass, but his cold gaze remained locked on Felix. “Just remember, Felix,” he said, his tone carrying an unspoken warning. “A pawn is only useful as long as it stays on the board. Don’t let your games cost us more than they’re worth.”

Felix laughed, a carefree sound that seemed almost out of place in the somber, smoke-filled room. “Relax, old man. You’ll see—I’m not just playing games. I’m setting the stage.” He raised his glass again, this time draining it in one smooth motion. “Trust me, Marciano. This is art.”

Marciano’s brow arched slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Art, perhaps. But art has a cost, Felix. That warehouse may not have had crates of silks and spices but it was an asset all the same.”

Felix waved his fork dismissively, spearing a piece of steak and popping it into his mouth. He chewed leisurely, savoring the flavors before answering. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Marciano. What I did was far more valuable than any shipment of spices or silks. That warehouse was a statement—a message.”

Marciano set his utensils down and folded his hands in front of him. “A message,” he repeated skeptically. “And what exactly was this message? That we’re reckless? Wasteful? That we can’t even manage our own resources?”

Felix chuckled, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his whiskey. “That we’re untouchable. That anyone who crosses us ends up choking on smoke and ashes. Fear, my dear Marciano, is the currency we trade in. And last night? I made a hefty deposit.”

Marciano’s gaze darkened, though his expression remained composed. “Fear might buy silence, but it doesn’t pay the bills. And Marek isn’t one to forgive reckless indulgence, no matter how well it’s framed as ‘strategy.’ You’re playing a dangerous game, Felix.”

Felix set his glass down with a sharp clink, leaning forward with a grin that was equal parts charming and infuriating. “Danger is half the fun, Marciano. Besides, I’ve already got a plan to make up for the ‘losses.’ Trust me, by the time Marek hears about this, he’ll be too busy counting coins to care.”

Marciano studied Felix for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he picked up his glass and raised it in a toast. “I hope, for your sake, that you’re right. Because if this little stunt of yours backfires, it won’t just be Marek you’ll have to answer to.”

Felix smirked, leaning in closer. “Come on Marciano.. Ever heard of insurance? By now, the paperwork is already being processed for damages. The payout will be more than enough to fund a new warehouse, and with the right adjustments, it’ll be even better than the last one.” He clinked his glass against Marciano’s, his grin widening. “Now, let’s enjoy this overpriced cabaret before I come up with another brilliant idea.”

Marciano allowed himself a faint smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s. And Felix? Try not to burn anything else down tonight.”

Felix raised his glass in mock solemnity. “No promises, old man. No promises.”

In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 28 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 29 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Time: 11am
Location: Edin Theater
Mention: @Helo Callum @Silverpaw Wulfric @JJ Doe Morrigan
The herald's voice reverberated through the hall, commanding silence as he cleared his throat and belted, "Presenting their Majesties, King Edin and Queen Alibeth Danrose of Caesonia!"

The double doors swung open with dramatic slowness as heads turned. Many had wondered if the king and queen would attend, however not many believed they would. It was not often they made a showing, especially King Edin.

King Edin strode forward, his golden crown glinting intensely as always under the chandeliers. His embroidered cloak, edged in shimmering gold, swept the polished floor behind him. Queen Alibeth followed with graceful poise as her amber eyes flicked over the crowd.

Behind them marched an impressive amount of guards, spears upright as their loud steps moved in sync. The rhythmic clink of their boots resonated like a heartbeat in the hall. More guards stood at every exit, their eyes scanning the room constantly.

At the entrance, attendees were now facing much more scrutiny. Guards conducted thorough pat-downs, inspecting every cloak, purse, and pocket for concealed weapons. Even nobles were not spared from the procedure; the message was clear—no one would bypass security tonight.

The royal couple climbed the stairs to the viewing box. Heavy crimson velvet draped its edges, embroidered with golden filigree. The box was positioned high above the room, offering an unobstructed view of the stage while keeping the royal family far from potential danger. Stationed guards flanked every corner, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

Edin sank heavily into his seat, his crown tilting slightly as he leaned back, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest. Barely settled, he waved over a staff member with an urgency that seemed misplaced for the occasion. He muttered something low and intense, sending the servant scurrying away, before slouching further into his chair.

Alibeth took her seat beside him. She adjusted the folds of her gown, her sharp amber eyes flicking toward the three empty chairs beside them. “Plenty of room here for Wulfric, Callum, and Morrigan,” she remarked coolly. “Though I suppose Callum’s absence should hardly surprise us.”

It was then the staff member returned, balancing a tray with a golden bowl of freshly popped corn with a heavy aroma of much too butter. Edin snatched it eagerly, his fingers immediately plunging into the bowl. He shoveled a handful into his mouth, chewing loudly and unapologetically as the hushed murmurs of the crowd below floated up toward the royal box.

Edin made no response to his wife's comments, his focus entirely on his popcorn. The steady crunching grated on her nerves, but she kept her composure, though her grip tightened on the arms of her chair. Her gaze lingered on him, searching for some semblance of acknowledgment.

With a sigh, she leaned forward and picked up the performance pamphlet laid neatly beside her. “Anastasia is listed last on page one,” she said, flipping through the pages, “I do hope she’s prepared. It would be... unfortunate if she planned to embarrass us.”

Still, no answer came. She cast him a sidelong glance, her expression hardening as his hand dived into the bowl again. The butter on his fingers glistened in the light, and he seemed entirely absorbed in the snack, pausing only to mutter under his breath about the need for salt.

Finally, with an audible crunch, he swallowed and leaned back in his seat. His eyes drifted lazily toward Alibeth. “Anastasia’s performing?” he asked, feigning surprise, “Well, that’ll certainly be... something.”

Alibeth’s gaze sharpened, but before she could speak Prince Auguste arrived. Her expression softened as their son greeted them respectfully and sat down, and she took his hand affectionately.

Edin merely shrugged, tossing another handful of popcorn into his mouth.



In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 29 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

ATTENTION ALL PLAYERS

Interaction: @Helo @Tae @ReusableSword @Rodiak @JJ Doe @Conscripts @Infinite Cosmos @Potter @Tpartywithzombi @samreaper @Silverpaw @Inertia @FunnyGuy @SausagePat @Lava Alckon @CitrusArms @PapaOso @Apex Sunburn


ALL CHARACTERS WILL RECEIVE THE FOLLOWING FLIERS

AT SOME POINT DURING THE DAY

MANY HAVE ALREADY BEEN RECEIVING THE BANQUET FLIER

EVERY DAY FOR THE PAST TWO DAYS EVERY TIME THEY STEP OUTSIDE

AS WELL AS IN THE MAIL


In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



Time: 11am
Location: The Edin Theater
Mention: @JJ Doe Fritz
Attire:Dress, Hair, Necklace, Headpiece



The Edin Theater was alive, its golden chandeliers casting light over the gathered crowd. Crimson curtains framed the stage and gold ornate carvings danced along the walls in the light. The space hummed with chatter as guests poured in, blending seamlessly into the vibrant melody of a violin that filled the air.

Anastasia swayed in her seat, a smile playing on her lips as she enjoyed the music. She broke off a piece of her warm pretzel, savoring the soft buttery pretzel as her gaze swept across the growing crowd.

There was a magnificent turnout, much more than she would have expected. Her eyes flicked toward the grand doors as another group entered, her heart skipping slightly. She had been scanning the arrivals, hoping for a glimpse of Fritz. Where is he? she thought with playful impatience

She popped another bite of pretzel into her mouth, "Perhaps he’ll appear out of thin air, and do more magic tricks," she mused quietly to herself.

The violin’s tune shifted into a lively crescendo, drawing a ripple of applause from the audience. Anastasia clapped politely along with the others, the corners of her lips twitching upward. The music, the murmurs, and the energy in the room were so exciting. This was everything she and Fritz had hoped for.

Before she could take another bite of her pretzel, a small voice piped up beside her, startling her from her thoughts. "Princess Anastasia!"

She turned her head to find a small group of young girls standing near her, their wide eyes filled with awe. They were dressed in their finest, likely the best garments their families could provide, but what struck Anastasia most was the sheer admiration shining on their faces.

"You're even prettier in person!" one of them exclaimed, clasping her hands together as if seeing her was a dream come true.

"Thank you," Anastasia replied warmly, her cheeks tinting slightly as she set her pretzel aside.

Another girl stepped forward, bouncing slightly on her toes. "We came here to see you, Princess! We want to be just like you when we grow up!"

The others nodded fervently, their words tumbling out in a rush. "We heard that you're not scared of anything, even a train coming toward you on the tracks! You’re so brave!"

Anastasia blinked, momentarily stunned. She then visibly softened, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "Oh, my sweet girls," she said, leaning forward to meet their eyes. "You’re far too kind. But you must know, it’s not always as glamorous as it seems. Being brave takes a lot of mistakes and… pretzels," she added with a playful grin, drawing giggles from the group.

As she spoke, the princess became more aware of the shifting atmosphere around her. Heads were turning in her direction, whispers spreading like wildfire through the room. The theater seemed to pause to acknowledge her presence. She felt their eyes all on her at once—some filled with awe, others with curiosity or judgment.

One of the little girls tugged gently at her sleeve. "Princess, do you think we could grow up to be important too?"

Anastasia stared at her for a moment, her smile almost faltering. Still, it held, even if only by a thin string. "You’re already important," she said firmly, "And one day, I have no doubt you’ll grow to be even more amazing than I could ever dream of being."

The girls’ faces lit up with joy and subsequently, they thanked her profusely before scurrying back to their families.

In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



Performances for Charity


Hosted by Princess Anastasia Danrose and Count Fritz Hendrix



Join Princess Anastasia Danrose and Count Fritz Hendrix for a heartfelt day of music, theater, and talent at their charity performance aimed at feeding the poor. Held in the prestigious Edin Theater, this daytime event will feature talented artists who have generously volunteered their time to inspire and entertain while supporting this noble cause.

Set against the backdrop of the theater, guests will enjoy captivating performances from musicians, actors, and entertainers, all volunteering to make a difference. The hosts warmly invite nobles and townsfolk alike to join in this effort to raise funds and resources to feed those most in need. Everyone is welcome to perform their talent!



Edin Theater Menu

(All proceeds go to feeding the hungry)

Snacks
Buttered Popcorn – Lightly salted and served in vintage-style paper cones.
Freshly Baked Soft Pretzels – Warm, soft pretzels served with a side of mustard or cheese dip.
Fruit Cups – Fresh, seasonal fruit served in small cups for a healthy option.

Drinks
Lemonade – Cool, refreshing lemonade served chilled.
Iced Tea – Sweet or unsweetened iced tea with lemon slices available.
Sparkling Water – Lightly carbonated water with a slice of lemon or lime.
Hot Coffee or Tea – A simple selection of hot beverages, including black coffee, herbal tea, and milk.




In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Time:Day
Date:Sola 28th

Interaction: @Helo @Tae @ReusableSword @Rodiak @JJ Doe @Conscripts @Infinite Cosmos @Potter @Tpartywithzombi @samreaper @Silverpaw @Inertia @FunnyGuy @SausagePat @Lava Alckon @CitrusArms @PapaOso @Apex Sunburn



Good morning! It's now 11 AM on Sola 28th, and we have a sunny, beautiful day ahead.

Here are the key updates:

- Two full days have passed since the camping event.
- Players interested in collaborating on events for Sola 26th and 27th can decide off-screen developments to deepen bonds. Writing out these interactions is optional.
Example: Greg and Bob ate lunch together and casually discussed their hobbies and upbringing.

Regarding any unfinished business for Sola 25th, please be clear that you are writing in for that night, or mark it as a flashback.









In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Location: Damien Estate
Time: Evening
Mention: @Tpartywithzombi Violet @PapaOso Cassius @FunnyGuy Alexander


Calbert’s lips pressed into a thin line as the door slammed behind Cassius, his mind already a flurry of activity even before the echoes of the slamming door had fully faded. His sharp gaze remained fixed on the trail of smoke in the distance, but his thoughts were already ten steps ahead, analyzing every possible angle.

After a moment’s pause, his fingers drumming against the banister in thought, Calbert straightened and descended the stairs with haste. “Henry,” he called, his voice echoing through the grand foyer, resonating with an authority that left no room for hesitation.

Within moments, Henry appeared, his posture rigid, the body language of a man accustomed to the urgency of Calbert’s summons.

“One of the warehouses is ablaze,” Calbert began, “Have it reported immediately to the appropriate authorities. Ensure the guards are dispatched to investigate and contain it. I want updates every quarter-hour. And, Henry—” His eyes narrowed slightly, “send a small contingent of our people as well. Armed and discreet. Their primary directive is to protect Cassius.”

Henry bowed, his expression neutral. “And if there is trouble, sir?”

“Ensure Cassius remains unharmed. His safety is paramount.”

Henry nodded and took a step to leave, then paused and reached into his coat, producing an envelope.“This arrived for you earlier, sir. I thought it prudent to bring it to your attention before I depart.”

Calbert’s brow arched slightly as he took the envelope. His sharp gaze flicked back to Henry. “Go. Do as I’ve instructed.”

Henry bowed and exited swiftly, leaving Calbert alone with the letter. He turned it over thoughtfully in his hands as he took it to his study. Once inside, he opened a small drawer, he retrieved a cigar and a silver cutter. With practiced precision, he clipped the end of the cigar.
Striking a match, he held the flame to the cigar’s tip, the faint crackle of burning tobacco filling the room. He took a slow draw, exhaling a plume of smoke as he broke the seal on the envelope. As he inhaled, the warm scent of cedar filled the room.

Dear Count Calbert Damien,

I trust this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I wish to express my deepest respect and admiration for the many accomplishments of your esteemed house. I am writing to you with a proposition concerning your talented daughter, Violet, who I understand is not only well-educated but also carries herself with the grace and intellect befitting her lineage. I have come to know of her exceptional abilities, and it is with great respect that I inquire about the possibility of employing her as my personal assistant. In my current endeavors, I seek the aid of someone who possesses both a keen mind and a noble bearing, qualities that your daughter clearly embodies. After briefly interacting with her, I quickly identified that her insights and skills would be of invaluable service to my wife and I, and I am confident that this opportunity could also offer her unique experiences, growth, and a chance to escape her bed chambers so that she does not become a stranger to the world. I, Alexander Deacon assure you that her well-being and development would be of paramount importance to me, and I would be honored to work alongside her. Should this proposal be agreeable to you, I would be most pleased to discuss the details further at your earliest convenience. Thank you for considering this request. I await your response with great anticipation and will respect whatever decision you deem most appropriate.

With the highest regard,
Alexander Deacon Vice President,
Black Rose Trading Company

“Alexander Deacon...” he murmured, his tone thoughtful. “A man clever enough to earn Marek’s trust, yet wise enough to keep his personal ambitions close to his chest.”

Alexander’s intentions, even if genuine, could shift under the right pressure.

“He works for Marek, and Marek values him,” Calbert mused aloud, his voice low. “That alone grants him a measure of trust... but not immunity to scrutiny.”

Rising from his chair, he moved to the window, pulling it open with a single sweep. The night air poured in, carrying with it the faint, acrid smell of smoke from the distant fire. Calbert lingered for a moment, letting the cool breeze tousle his long, dark hair like a halo of shadow.

His lips curled into a smile as he drew deeply from the cigar, holding the smoke in his chest. Then, with a slow, deliberate exhale, he released it into the night, the tendrils mingling with the wind. The flickering orange light of the fire in the distance painted the horizon.

“Smoke in the distance, Alexander,” he muttered under his breath, then slammed the window shut. “...If Alexander’s offer is sincere, it could provide her the structure and protection she needs,” he muttered, taking another drag. “But if it isn’t...” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Then I must ensure the damage is contained before it begins.”

“Violet must be spoken to first,” he decided, his voice firm in the quiet study. “Her thoughts on this arrangement will reveal much.”

“And as for Alexander Deacon...” Calbert’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “An invitation is in order.”

He turned back to his desk and reached for a fresh sheet of paper.

In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Olivia, Charlotte & Cassius
Part 1


The acrid air was relentless with ominous heat as Charlotte arrived before the warehouse, her breath hitching at the sight before her. Flames licked hungrily at the sky, the fire devouring the building in an array of red and orange. Smoke billowed from shattered windows and gaping holes in the walls menacingly.

For a moment, her body froze, rooted in the shock of the scene before her.

Noise startled Olivia and caused her to roll onto her hands and knees under the carriage. Due to her height, she had to duck low to the ground; not that she wanted to be too visible, anyway, in case that asshole returned. Her gaze widened when the familiar figure of Charlotte loomed into view. Fear gripped her.

”F-f-f-fanc-y… m-mn-m-eeting y-y-yo-o-o-ou h-h-h-heeeere,” A hoarse voice greeted Charlotte. Olivia emerged from under the carriage. Her auburn hair was singed at the ends, and her clothes were a mixture of soot and water. Though her skin was pale to begin with, it was ghostly pale and she wrapped her arms around herself to preserve some body heat. She glanced at the warehouse, then back to her, and slid back onto her knees. The world spun around her, and she slid off her knees into the carriage to hold herself up. She rubbed soot off her face and glanced at her ashened hands with disgust and fear.

”W-w-wh-h-h-y a-a-r-re y-y-you- h-h-here…?”

Charlotte rushed to Olivia’s side, dropping to her knees without a second thought. Her hands immediately reached out, draping her cape around her shoulders. Olivia was freezing, shivering violently, but oddly, she wasn’t wet.

“Why am I here?” Charlotte’s voice was incredulous, her gaze sharp as she met Olivia’s. “Why are you here?!” She then pulled Olivia close, her arms wrapping around her as she rubbed her forearms, trying to coax some warmth back into her trembling body.

Olivia laughed hoarsely, and her gaze met her friend’s. She pulled the cape around her instinctively, though she wished to return it to her friend. Warmth began to return in small bouts, and gratefulness rushed inside of her for the feeling. Her lungs began to pump air in and out, and she found more of her voice returning to her, slowly but surely.

“What happened, Olivia?” she asked urgently, her voice softening slightly but still edged with panic. She paused for a moment, her eyes returning to the warehouse. “There’s not anyone in there, right?”

”...I was… I was…” Olivia turned away and coughed. ”....In…Investi.. I–I-Investig-g-ating.” She glanced over at the warehouse, then back to her. ”...A-A-A-n-n-nd so..soome punk..ass.. bitch s-s-st f-f-f-ire t-t-o it.” She frowned at her friend.

“Breathe with me,” Charlotte instructed gently. She could feel the oppressive heat from the warehouse pressing in around them, the smoke thickening the air. Charlotte's own throat stung as she inhaled deeply. She slowed her breathing, aiming to steady her nerves, hoping Olivia would follow suit.

“In...slowly now. In through the nose... count to four... one, two, three, four…” She paused, allowing Olivia time to match her rhythm, her gaze softening with focus. “Hold it for a moment... Now exhale, nice and slow... out through the mouth... one, two, three, four... Yes, that’s it.” She repeated the process, ensuring her breathing stayed steady.

Olivia gazed at Charlotte with confusion, but slowly began to follow suit. At first, her breath was shaky and ragged; the smoke burned her throat and eyes, and the sensation of hypothermia clung to her like she clung to Charlotte’s cloak. Slowly but surely, Olivia’s breath began to return to normal, and her circadian rhythm began to correct itself. With each breath, it became easier to breathe, and Olivia’s body began to warm, and color returned to her.

Once Olivia seemed to find her rhythm, Charlotte sighed in a manner that almost felt too calm given the chaos surrounding them. A small, rueful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she spoke. “Oh, simply an average day for you, I presume? My word, Olivia, if that is how you carry on, we must prepare for your autobiography...”

Liv barked a laugh and glanced up at the warehouse. ”Y-eah.” she replied sheepishly, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Fire and I have a love-hate relationship. Can’t get enough,” Her voice became bitter and dry, as the memories of her parents and bakery remained rooted in the back of her mind.

She reached out and lightly squeezed Olivia’s shoulder before continuing, her tone warmer. “You really shouldn’t have come out here on your own, dear.”

Olivia shrugged at her comment. Being alone meant there was nobody else for the world to miss. Then, she glanced at the warehouse, then back to Lottie. ”H-h-ho-w d-did y-you know to co..come..?”

Charlotte turned her gaze back toward the burning warehouse, her brow raising slightly. Without a word, she pointed toward the rising plumes of smoke. Olivia raised her brows and let out a delicate sigh. This meant it might attract other people…. People she did not want to see.

Each stride brought the blazing warehouse into view, and with it, the powerful and unmistakable scent of burning wood and ash. His mind raced through worst-case scenarios, but he forced them aside with a muttered curse. However, when his storm-gray eyes locked onto two figures near the wreckage, a sharp wave of relief nearly buckled his knees.

Charlotte and someone else…singed and sooty, huddled together just outside the blaze.

Cassius forced himself to slow his pace, rolling his shoulders back as he closed the distance. By the time he reached them, his cocky smirk was firmly in place for the sake of comfort, though his chest still rose and fell with the remnants of his sprint and the slightest hint of worry lingered in his eyes.

In an instant he took in the sight of them, and realized that the second person was none other than Olivia as well as the fact that she seemed worse for wear. She’s trembling… Cas noted within. Kneeling down to the pair, his eyes met Charlotte’s as addressed them.

"Don’t tell me I’m too late to save the day." he drawled, ignoring the slight shake in his voice as he gestured broadly to the inferno. "Everybody okay?"

The unexpected voice caused her to tense and stiffen. She instinctively reached for her bow and weakly strung an arrow. With a glare, she watched as Cassius Damien loomed into view. ”We’re fine,” Olivia lied coolly. Her gaze didn’t leave him. She motioned to Charlotte to help her up so they could leave.

Cassius cocked an eyebrow, his smirk broadening into something almost arrogant as he rose to his full height, towering over the two women. His perfect eyes flicked between Charlotte’s determined face and Olivia’s glare, the latter sparking an amused huff from him.

The venom oozed from her voice. If she were a basilisk, her gaze would be petrifying. ”What are you doing here, Damien?” If Calbert was in the Black Rose, who knew if he was too? Olivia gripped Charlotte’s arm and slowly began trying to stand; a feat crippled by her weakness.

As Olivia spoke, he rested a hand dramatically over his chest as though her words had struck a mortal blow and tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over her unsteady frame and Charlotte’s protective grip. The smirk faltered…barely…when he caught the faint tremor in Olivia’s limbs and the ash clinging to her like a second skin.

“Oh, you know…just enjoying a casual evening in and around burning buildings. So, basically the usual.” He jested, an attempt to cut through a bit of the woman’s venomous, though understanding demeanor. He then turned his attention to Lottie as she began to speak, his arrogant grin shifting into a noticeably more genuine smile.

Charlotte glanced at Cassius with a surprised yet amused expression. “Oh, you’re never too late, Cassius,” she replied with a small smile. “But yes, we’re fine—aside from the obvious inconvenience of a burning warehouse and Olivia’s current state.” She then rose to help her to her feet, anchoring her arm around her.

She froze mid movement as her eyes flicked nervously toward the distant sound of approaching footsteps, growing louder with every passing second. Her stomach tightened at the thought of the guards arriving too soon, and she turned back to Olivia, urgency in her voice.

“We need to move now,” Charlotte urged, her grip tightening on Olivia as she nodded toward a nearby warehouse.

Olivia’s expression did not soften seeing their recognition of one another. With a scowl, Liv rose to her feet alongside Charlotte. She wrapped her arm around her shoulder and turned away so she could cough and hack noisily. She stubbornly limped towards the nearby warehouse and scowled again at the inconvenience of not being as agile to move in case things turned south.

Taking a perceptive glance around the area, Cassius moved towards the girls with caution before bending and wrapping his own arm around Olivia as well to help bolster her and assist Charlotte in moving her quickly. “Don’t mind me, Liv… Just doing my part .”

As he began to help Charlotte support her over to a nearby empty warehouse, Olivia emitted a low hiss, akin to a cat being soaked in water. She reluctantly allowed them both to help her. Once inside and out of sight, Olivia scanned their surroundings for the jackass arsonist and declared it was clear.

In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Time: Evening
Location: Vikena Estate → Outside
Attire: Dress, Amulet
Interaction: @JJ Doe Fritz @Potter Olivia


The soft rustle of Charlotte’s dress was the only sound accompanying her as she ascended the staircase of the dimly lit Vikena estate. She clenched her hands briefly at her sides, the ghost of her conversation with Fritz lingering. Her eyes flicked toward the flickering candle sconces along the walls as though seeking answers in their wavering light.

She was nearing her bedroom door when a familiar voice broke through the quiet.

“Lottie dear!”

The familiar feeling of a tender hand on her shoulder made her pause midstep.

"I forgot to give this to you earlier. I bet you it’s a love letter."

A small smile teased the corners of Charlotte’s lips, though it was faint and fleeting. "A love letter?" She repeated the words with a faint note of humor, her brow arching as she accepted the envelope.

"Well you never know…" With a kiss on her cheek and a gentle squeeze of her shoulder, Delilah retreated down the hallway, her humming fading into the distance. Alone once more, Charlotte glanced down at the envelope in her hands. Without further delay, she broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

Dear Lady Charlotte Vikena,

I trust this letter finds you in the best of spirits. It would be a delight to finally have the pleasure of meeting you in person for the very first time at the upcoming Sorian Art Gala. In the midst of such elegance, might I suggest a private meeting at 11:00 a.m.? I would love the opportunity to introduce myself and discuss a cause rather special to Prince Callum Danrose—one that involves your esteemed participation in a charity event that I believe would greatly benefit from your grace and influence. It would be an honor to share more with you in the enchanting atmosphere of the gala, and I eagerly await the chance to finally make your acquaintance.

With my warmest regards,
Alexander Deacon Vice President,
Black Rose Trading Company

Charlotte's breath hitched the moment her eyes landed on the signature, Alexander Deacon, Vice President, Black Rose Trading Company. The name seemed to pulse on the page before her. Her heart sank, and her fingers tightened around the letter, leaving slight creases in the parchment.

Her thoughts raced as she hurried back downstairs. The room was quiet now, still bearing some remnants of the earlier gathering. Charlotte crossed over to the board, the letter still clutched in her hand. Her gaze darted to the board as she approached it, her eyes scanning it rapidly as if seeking validation for what her gut already knew.

There it was scrawled on the board. Alexander Deacon.

"A love letter, indeed," she murmured dryly, her voice trembling with a fragile facade of humor that quickly faltered.
Her eyes remained on the name, a shaky sigh leaving her lips. A ripple of fear went through her as she considered the implications. There was no way this was a coincidence. No way this was benign.

A lure into the lion’s den.

She supposed this sort of matter was one she should share with the others, especially if anything happened to her if she were to go.
"… Fritz… Olivia!” Her voice carried through the quiet estate as she called out their names, but no response came. Her feet carried her toward the guest rooms, climbing the staircase with determination. Halfway up, she paused abruptly, her eyes catching sight of something through one of the grand windows.

A thick column of smoke rose into the night sky, billowing ominously from the direction of the warehouses. Charlotte’s stomach twisted, and a chill ran down her spine.

"Please don’t be over there," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. The words repeated in her mind like a desperate mantra.

Please don’t be over there. Please don’t be over there.

Her body moved before her mind could fully process the decision. Clutching the letter tightly, she quickly turned and bolted toward the front door, only taking a moment to grab her cape. The cool night air greeted her as she stepped outside, but her focus remained solely on the distant smoke.

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