Rogue Sloth

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

I had too much fun with that scene haha. The coronation flipped a switch in Cas's mentality about becoming king.

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

The half hour between the moment Caspian had signed his life away and the moment he stood in wait to take his oath as king came and went in a blur. Surrounded by a small team of bodyguards in the hall leading into the throne room, the newly fledged monarch fiddled nervously with the sleeve of his tunic. Just fifteen minutes prior, the minister who would be officiating the coronation had walked him through the words he would need to say in front of the Aspirian people. He was good at memorizing speeches and had plenty of experience with public speaking, so remembering a few simple phrases was child’s play by now, but he still repeated his part in his head and under his breath, worried that he would forget a line in spite of all evidence to the contrary.

With his eyes fixed on the floor and the words whispered softly on his lips, he startled when Jacob spoke up at his side. “They are ready for you inside, your majesty,” the taller man announced, studying him with a frown. “We can move forward with the ceremony on your mark… Should I request a few more minutes?” He could see the nerves written plainly on the former prince’s face and didn’t want to push him to stand before the people until he was mentally prepared to do so.

“No,” Cas shook his head, taking a slow breath to steady himself. “I’m ready. Tell them they can open the doors.” The longer he waited, the more time he had to psyche himself out, and that wouldn’t be productive for anyone. He had already signed his name on the papers that had legally given him the title anyway, so he was most of the way there already. He just had to confirm his intentions with the people, and then he could enjoy the festivities to follow. The hardest part would be over in less than an hour. Then he just had to focus on actually leading the kingdom. No pressure, right?

Jacob nodded and murmured into his radio. A pregnant pause followed before the double doors eased open, and the hallway was suddenly filled with the thunderous sound of applause from the high borns waiting on the other side. Caspian blinked in mild surprise as he walked with his guards into the room. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he thought about a coronation—especially since he’d never seen one, himself—but for some reason, the excitement of the occasion came as a shock. His father had just passed away, and he was an unknown stepping in to fill the role as ruler, yet the men and women who watched him stride across the aisle all looked happy about the transition. Each one well-dressed in every vibrant color one could imagine, the invited high borns wore smiles on their faces and whispered amongst one another eagerly. The mood in the air was infectiously enthusiastic, and it didn’t take long for Cas to start getting swept up in its sweet effects.

A smile pulled at his own lips as he stepped up to the ceremonial throne. The enormous chair was gilded in gold leaf, its legs and backrest spiraling outward and upward with organic texture. It was stationed in the center of a raised pedestal with a delicate side table decorated with more gold leaf and glass. Both pieces of furniture were eye-catching works of art, but they had the misfortune of sharing the spotlight with the Aspirian crown itself.

The latter was what Cas had fixed his gaze on as he approached. Among past generations, crowns were used more often to designate royalty in Aspiria, but in modern times, they were worn only as often as the tunic the next king was sporting now. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen his father wear it, but it still looked just as intimidatingly regal as he remembered. The sweeping, solid gold was inlaid with precious stones that glittered as they caught the light. It looked like it had been given a fresh polish too, so that even the cameras in the far back end of the room could pick up its luster.

When he reached the throne, the minister, who was standing behind the table and crown, beckoned for him to take a seat. Cas followed the wordless instructions, turning around to face his audience as he reclined in the gilded chair. It wasn’t the most ergonomically comfortable piece of furniture, but he could practically feel the weight of its importance as his fingers brushed the edge of the golden armrests. In that moment, he’d made a tangible gesture to symbolize that he was going to fill the vacancy his father had imparted with his death. He swallowed nervously, trying not to focus on the loftiness of his decision.

“Your Majesty, are you willing to take the oath that your forefathers vowed before you?” the minister’s question rang out over the room, jarring Cas back into the present moment. The coronation was starting. The needed to give his attention to his part of the ceremony.

“I am willing,” he responded, glancing at the news station cameras that hovered near the rear doors. The minister had been clear in their rehearsal that even though they would be doing all the talking, he needed to treat the oath as something he was saying to his people, so he looked out over the crowd instead of at the other man.

“Will you solemnly swear to govern the people of Aspiria according to the laws and customs of each district, committing yourself to the betterment of all those who live in this kingdom?”

“I swear to do so,” Cas answered honestly. Even if he hadn’t been made to promise it in front of everyone in the nation, he would have striven for that goal. His father and the earlier kings who had come before him hadn’t held up their end of the deal, as he’d seen with his own eyes in the outer regions of Aspiria, but he wasn’t like them. During his reign, he planned to do everything he could to make the country a place where everyone prospered, not just the people who lived in the capital city.

The minister continued: “Will you, to your power, execute all your judgments in the name of law and justice and demonstrate wisdom when you pass judgment on those who are deserving?”

“I swear to lead justly,” Cas said, though he wasn’t quite as thrilled about the idea of passing judgment on anyone.

They went back and forth a few more times as the minister had him swear other things before the people. Some of the promises were easy, and some he wondered if he would be able to keep. The entire process lasted no more than ten minutes, and at the end of it, the minister picked up the crown from the table and poised it over the young king’s head. “You have sworn to uphold the legacy of every king who came before you. For that, I deem you worthy of this crown. Wear it proudly, as it grants you the divine authority to command this kingdom as its people’s ruler, protector and advocate.” As he spoke, he lowered the crown so that it rested at the crest of the royal’s hairline. “I dub thee Caspian Maydestone, eleventh King of Aspiria. Long live the king.”

“Long live the king!” the audience echoed resoundingly.

A smile alighted on Cas’s face as he looked out over the small crowd. The coronation wasn’t so bad after all. As they chanted in support of his reign, he sat up straighter in the throne, making a silent vow to himself that he would do his best to live up to their expectations. The lives of the Aspirian people were in his hands now, and that wasn’t a responsibility he took lightly. Now that he was officially king, he would do everything he could to leave the nation better off than it had been when Atlas was in control.

Match Up in Malibu [Bee & Summer]

“Good luck getting past the producers. I have a feeling they’d rather let us freeze if it means getting more shots of everyone in their swimsuits,” Jett pointed out with a gesture at the other nearby contestants, all of whom were still in their bikinis and trunks too. Showing some skin made for higher ratings, especially when half the cast was made up of celebrities with their own individual cult followings. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the crew had even set up bouncers to keep them from getting back to their rooms until the end of the night. The trade-off for spending the summer in Malibu was that they had to sell their souls to the cameras, after all.

He took Anna’s hand when she offered it and walked with her over to the food line. “It’s a buffet, so I’ll probably try to have a little of everything,” he replied, eyeing a tray loaded with kalua pork. His dietician would murder him if he went crazy and gained ten pounds before he came back to New York, but five wouldn’t be too bad, right? He was sure the producers would have them doing all sorts of active games while they were staying at the beachside mansion anyway. He could have a big dinner and worry about burning it off the next time they were called to compete for immunity.

True to his word, he stacked a plate with everything from barbeque meats to sliced pineapple to bread rolls and then swiped an exotic looking cocktail off the end of the counter for good measure. With a veritable feast in hand, he turned back to Anna and tipped his head in the direction of the outdoor fireplace, where a few of the other cast members were already congregating. “I think I’ll hang out over here. Want me to take your plate for you while you go on your quest to change clothes? I’ve got enough of my own food that I won’t eat yours. Scout’s honor.”

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

“Good choice. I’m not a very touchy guy,” Rayth nodded approvingly when Lune decided not to take the first open bunk they came across. The statement was really only half true though. Most of the time, he was laidback with a good sense of humor and little interest in picking a fight with anyone else, but that didn’t mean his temper was nonexistent. There were a few sensitive subjects that could get under his skin, and whenever he was between feeds, he was irritable until he whetted his thirst for blood.
With a chuckle at her remark about taking a shower, he led Lune further into the train to continue their search for the cot that would be her bed. “I think there are around thirty members right now?” he said with a slight inflection, furrowing his brows as he tried to add up the troupe in his head. “I’ve never been great at math though, so don’t hold it against me if I’m way off my mark.”
Navigating around another pile of someone’s unwashed laundry, he pondered the best way to answer her question about the ‘house rules.’ Nearly all of them were centered around keeping the creatures in the circus safe and hidden away from the human world. They weren’t allowed to wander away from the pack, they couldn’t feed outside of the prey that Freida had gathered for them and they couldn’t interact with the audience that came to their shows unless it was part of their performance.
With the ever-present risk of hunters looming over them, the whole point of Cirque du Sombre was to be a sanctuary for supernaturals of every shape and size… but that made it difficult to explain the isolating rules they followed to protect themselves from her kind.
“Um, Frieda might be a better person to ask about those than I am,” he frowned, glancing at her through the murky darkness. “Most of the rules we follow around here are more like helpful suggestions though. Like don’t steal stuff from the other members or don’t start fights… or, for me, don’t bite humans.” He smiled lopsidedly. “I think you’ll be fine as long as you think twice about doing anything that seems like a generally bad idea.”
There weren’t so many sleeper cars that they needed to spend an eternity wandering around in search of open beds, so after Rayth guided Lune through three more, they hit the end of the section, and he cut them off before they traipsed any deeper. There would be plenty of time to give her a tour of the public spaces and storage areas when there was enough daylight for her to see them.
Between the five cars they’d seen, he’d found three open cots that seemed like decent choices. The first had been the one he’d pointed out to her first with an uppity witch as a bunkmate, the second was with Briella the werewolf and the third was a shared space with a shapeshifter named Juliette who usually kept to herself.
Out of the options, he hinted most strongly toward the latter, since he knew Genesis would be inhospitable, and he didn’t trust Briella within ten yards of a human.
“So what’s your preference?” he asked when they’d finished their search, leaning back against the wall of the train car they’d stopped in. “I know this is probably the worst time of day to pick out a place to live, but if anything grabbed you, we should set up your stuff now before everyone else gets back. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, you know?”

What character archetypes/characteristics do you gravitate towards?

The black sheep, the criminal, the man who has come to the conclusion that the only person he can rely on to watch his back is himself.

I've had a lot of characters that don't fit this mold lately, but there's just something magnetic to me about a character who has to learn how to trust other people after going through something that broke that part of him/her in the past. I enjoy writing about their pitfalls and the habits that get them into trouble whenever they try and fail to make it through life without anyone else's help. If/when I ever get around to trying my hand at writing a novel, the protagonist is definitely going to be a character that falls into this category.

New World Contention [AnnaWinters & Summer]

No worries and no rush! I took a month to get back to you, so I definitely don't expect you to post faster haha

New World Contention [AnnaWinters & Summer]

Took me way too long but I finally got a post up!

New World Contention [AnnaWinters & Summer]

Azdrei’in nodded when Artemis insisted that she wanted him to stay while the Om’phaer examined her. He repeated her request to the physician, who agreed that there was no problem for him to be in the room, and then turned around to wait while she changed out of her clothes. It was the more sensible decision for him to stay close by, since she couldn’t communicate with anyone else among his kind, but he still felt a bit like he was sitting in on an exam for a female of his own species. It was awkward, and he shifted his weight slightly as he faced the curtain that partitioned off the exam table from the rest of the space. She had changed nearby him a few times now, but he didn’t know if he would ever get used to it.

Only when he heard her climb up onto the exam table did he turn around again to watch as the Om’phaer prepared the equipment she needed to take samples from Artemis. “Your units of measurement are different than ours,” he told her when she tried to tell him how much blood the physician could draw. “I will just tell her to take half the amount she would from one of our people.” And he did in the next moment, to which the other Lunvalgan chuckled in response.

“There is nothing to fear,” she assured him. “I only need enough to fill this.” She held up a small, empty vial about half the length of her index finger and then attached it deftly to the needle that she would use to draw the fluid. “She may dislike the feeling when I take the blood sample though. Our instruments are designed to pierce Lunvalgan skin. Hers is much softer and thinner… Will she fight back if she is in pain?”

“I do not believe so,” Azdrei’in answered with a frown. “She is not violent… Artemis,” switching to English, he turned to the human, deciding to forewarn her before the physician introduced the oversized needle. “Because you’re smaller than us, it may hurt when she takes your blood.” With a tilt of his head, he indicated the medical instrument in the Om’phaer’s hand. Even though he doubted she would attack the other Lunvalgan out of nowhere if she was in pain, he still felt like she deserved to be able to brace herself before the needle was plunged into her skin.

When she asked about genetic makeup, he repeated the question to the physician, who made a contemplative noise before she shook her head. “There is no way to tell before I run the tests, but it seems unlikely. Phenotype is far different than genotype. Just because her species has a similar appearance does not guarantee that her DNA will be similar too. I would prefer not to get our hopes up this early on.”

Azdrei’in echoed the answer to Artemis and then glanced at her again when she asked what would happen if it turned out they were similar enough to interbreed. At that, he pressed his tongue against his teeth, unsure quite what to say. He knew the answer already. If she could carry a Lunvalgan child, it was almost certain that his leaders would want a male to mate with her. However, the thought of her being handed over to someone else bothered him. He also didn’t know how she would feel if she found out that she would be expected to reproduce with a member of his kind. He and the other Lunvalgans were used to being governed closely by the Eilix, but if she wasn’t prepared to accept their authority, she could hate their decision or put up a fight.

“It will happen the same way the rest of our women attempt to carry children… with a male partner,” he told her after clearing his throat. That was as specific as he felt comfortable being, so he left it to her to infer the rest. Instead of elaborating, he fell quiet and watched the Om’phaer clean Artemis’s arm with a sanitizing swab where she had found a visible vein from which to draw blood.

“I haven’t come across any friends yet,” he mused in response to her comment, relieved for a change in topic that allowed him to forget about the bitter fact that she might be paired with a male that wasn’t him. “The man who walked here with us was a…” he paused briefly as he searched for the right word, “Coworker. He was a coworker. We have trained together, but I don’t know much more about him than his name. My friends are warriors too, but I haven’t seen them since we arrived on the spaceship.”

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

I love it already cx Meanwhile, Cas had a more productive morning than he expected haha

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

Not long after he crawled out of bed, Caspian found out why the servants had woken him up three hours before his coronation. There was much more to do than just eat breakfast, get dressed and walk into the throne room to receive the crown. While he did have a small meal before leaving his bedroom, the rest of his morning was a bustle of tailoring ceremonial garb to fit his frame and going through pages and pages of legal documents that would make his transition to king official. None of it seemed to fit the theme of ‘celebration,’ but he supposed there was always busywork that went on behind the scenes of events like these.

Once he got his morning shower out of the way, he was met by a small team of seamsters who brought with them the outfit that every crown prince in Aspiria’s history wore to his coronation. The trousers and tunic-like top were a crisp white with a thick gold trim at the hems of the neckline and sleeves, and it was ornamented with a sash across the waist in the same aureate color. In past generations, the style of clothing was commonly worn among the royal family, but in more modern times, it was only used for special occasions.

While the seamsters took his measurements and marked the clothes where they would need to be taken in, Cas fingered the fabric in idle remembrance of his father. Atlas had been the last person to wear the garments, and it felt strange to know that the way they fit him now was the way they had fit the last monarch on his wedding day. He wasn’t sure if he felt more saddened by the fact that the uniform would be altered or honored that he was going to share the tradition of wearing it with the man who had raised him.

After the seamsters had what they needed, the prince changed back into a pair of joggers and a t-shirt and went with one of the servants to another room while the others took the clothes away to be adjusted. Caspian headed to the office that used to belong to Atlas, where he was met by a lawyer already waiting with a briefcase and a binder. They sat down across from each other at the executive desk, and the other man walked him through the contents of each page on the stack of documents that he’d brought along to finalize his legal right to the throne. It was all very bureaucratic, and after just a few pages, his head felt like it was swimming. Still, he signed the forms where he was told to, and when he was done, the lawyer smiled and stood up from the desk to shake his hand.

“Congratulations, your majesty,” he said, picking up his briefcase and offering a respectful bow of his head.

“Well, almost,” Cas shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets as he watched the paperwork disappear into the binder. “I still have to get through the coronation.”

The lawyer stared at him for a moment, then smiled again and waved his hand, “The ceremony is just a formality. The moment you signed these papers, you legally took on the title of king. It’s the same procedure as with a wedding. When you sign the marriage license, you’re married, but you still go through with the ceremony and proclaim ‘I do’ in front of a crowd. You’re our king now, my lord. The rest is just tradition.”

Caspian blinked, surprised by that news. He would have thought that becoming king would feel like a major step in his life, but instead, he’d just signed up for the job in his lazy day clothes. Somehow, he felt a little cheated out of the experience by finding out afterwards, but it may have been a good thing. By not knowing what he was doing, the anxiety that he’d expected to feel about the transition hadn’t had a chance to hit him. “That was easier than I thought it would be,” he mused aloud.

In the next moment, there was a knock on the door, and a servant stepped inside and bowed, “Your highness, the tailors are ready for you to try on the uniform again.”

“I’ll be right there,” Cas told him. With one last glance at the lawyer, he took a breath and walked back out of the room. There was only about half an hour left before the ceremony, so he didn’t have time to process the fact that he was the new ruler of Aspiria. He still needed to finish getting ready to stand before his people and let it be known to them that he was ready to take over. There was no turning back now.