shylarah

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

@Briza As a note, those fancy letters aren't viewable on my kindle...or my old computer, which I will be using for the next week. m*settles in to read*

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

#ThatHat is go, repeat, #ThatHat is go.

Sparks: O.o

The Plague Knight Chronicles: Chapter 1

just so everyone knows, I will be out of town all of next week and into the second week of January. I don't know how much time I'll be having to reply to things while I'm gone.

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

Valentine/Edelessa of Luxième

She really wasn't very lucky. She should have known that she would not be. Of course the one person in the entire room that she least wished to speak to was the one that noticed her absence when Anton arrived and looked around until he was able to locate her. Damn both of them. Maybe she should have used the front door; at least there she'd have had other people to get in his way. But where she was, there was very little resistance to him moving across the floor. She considered darting for the door and just leaving, but she'd promised, and managed -- barely -- to stand her ground.

She kept her head down as Prince Akio approached, trying to remember how to breathe. What she wouldn't give for a nice invisibility spell right about now! But you have to do this. You have to. Valentine had had far too many lessons about her duties, and despite her best efforts a number of them had stuck. She couldn't bring herself to lift her head, looking not at the prince but instead at the ruffle on her skirt. At least he did his research. He didn't call her by her birth name, as so many people kept insisting on doing at events like these. The only reply she gave to his introduction was a stiff nod. Even if she'd wanted to say something, she didn't trust her voice. It would probably come out a mousy, unpleasant squeak if she managed to make it work at all.

Prince Akio offered her a flute of champagne, and while Valentine didn't really want to be drinking she felt obligated to take it from him. It took her a moment to unclench her fingers from around the strap of her little purse, and once she had the flute the wine wobbled dangerously close to the edge of the glass. Valentine knew how to properly appreciate wine, but her first sip was both hasty and larger than was strictly proper, just to make sure she didn't spill it. She still didn't look up at the prince, and she wished she'd left her hair down. She felt terribly exposed, as irrational as that was, and she could feel every bit of tension in her shoulders as they crept closer to her ears. She did not want to be here.

How Not to be a Douchebag 101

Hey, just a heads-up, but I probably will be around only minimally for all of next week. Just so you don't think I disappeared or bailed or...whatever. ^.^ Going on a trip.

How Not to be a Douchebag 101

Rhylaen was glad for Agent-May's support, and indeed the other woman had more authority when it came to the men of science. The lights were dimmed after a brief conversation, and the unknown one seemed more willing to interact because of it.

The dampening bracelets, Rhylaen knew, kept its other powers limited. She'd experienced something similar, years ago, and the memory was not a pleasant one. She knew, however, that the men in the other room would only let her push so far before they insisted she leave. She suspected removing the bracelets would get her in real trouble. "I can't," she told him, brows drawing together in concern. She pointed back at the door, trying to indicate others, and shook her head.

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

> S P A R K S , A C I R A S I T
status: very merry

> >
IF (celebrate =1)
THEN
GET (holidayname)
PRINT (Happy [holidayname]!)
ENDIF

>>Run

> Happy Christmas!

!-- code still needs some tuning

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

Valentine/Edelessa of Luxième

Her Highness Crown Princess Edelessa Sofia Valentine Blanchefleur had run out of the initial reception the first moment she could possibly manage to do so before vanishing entirely for several hours thereafter. She turned up again too late to make it to the ball in a timely manner as well, much to the chagrin of those responsible for ensuring that she did. In the end she shut the door to the room where she was dressing to dampen the noise of their damnamble fussing. She was only going to show up at all because Anton had asked, after apologizing and promising he'd figure something out. Of course that's what he said last time, she thought uncharitably, checking her eyeliner in the mirror and turning to look at the dress laid across her bed. She shivered. The sheets smelled like laundry freshner -- she'd have to figure out a way to deal with that before she went to bed, but not right now.

The dress itself was nice, a dark blue the color of midnight. It was neither tight enough nor short enough to be the classic black cocktail dress, but it was close enough, with a sarong-style wrap edged in a subdued ruffle layered atop the skirt and a close-fitting top. The gently ruffled collar was of the same material as the border, silk of midnight shot with sapphire. It widened enough to cover the tops of her shoulders where the short sleeves parted, a very cute style. And if she was at home, maybe she'd have enjoyed wearing it. As things stood, she dreaded stepping outside her room.

Anton had waited for her, and she was both pleased and annoyed to see him. Valentine had not yet forgiven him for the mess they were in, and he was vain enough that his presence would destroy any chance she had of slipping in the door without being announced. Just having him announced would put so very many eyes where they might stray to her.

Unless....

She stopped where their path forked, the main way leading to the front door of the building and the other heading around to one of the ornamental gardens that surrounded it. "Distract them for me?" she pleaded, eyes fixed on the illuminated entryway, lights bright in the beginnings of dusk. She waited long enough for his reluctant acquiescence before hurrying off down the other branch of the walk.

It wasn't far enough into the night for the guests to be done greeting each other, and Valentine was all but alone outside as she waited, checking her watch on its silver bracelet. Five minutes, he'd said, but the seconds ticked by so slowly. At fifteen seconds before the time she approached the door, intending the flow of conversation to cover whatever noise the latch might make. It worked beautifully. A couple people noticed as she slipped inside but nearly all of them were immediately distracted by a man announcing the arrival of his highness Andronikos Telesphorides of the Athenian Federation, and his various other titles. She moved away from the door to find a corner where she could be a wallflower for the rest of the evening, letting her gaze run over the crowd as she did. That one could only be the prince from the Texas Sovereignty, wearing business casual and a hat that screamed cowboy. And there was someone in a suit of armor?! Maybe those two would occupy enough attention to let her skate through unnoticed. The fellow in Pólemesian attire was similarly eye-catching, and were she not so anxious Valentine would have admired the outfit. He looked like something out of one of her games -- so did the person in armor, actually. She wished she had that kind of courage, to put herself on display like that, but the mere thought made her shaky.

The green suit of one the Talulian twins drew her eye, especially as Valentine was on heightened alert for the pair. Akio Bai of Talulia was the man she was to be foisted off on, and she was not at all ready to face him. He and his brother looked nearly alike, and were standing near the dance floor in the middle of the room. At least their attention seemed to be elsewhere. She would have to thank Anton later, for agreeing to help. She was certain that if she'd come in the front way she would have panicked and fled. As it was, she already wanted to. So many people! She'd done a little research into the guest list on the flight over, but she'd been secure in the knowledge that she was there to support Anton's endeavors, and that little attention would be paid her. How wrong she'd been! She would have done more between the welcome ceremony and now, but the thought had been pushed out of her mind by the surprise engagement. Not like you are going talk to most of them anyhow, she reminded herself, trying to even out her breathing. It was hard to mess up names if you never tried to use them.

She eventually tucked herself by a gathered curtain and did her best to blend in with the fabric. It was a poor effort, given that the curtain was crimson and her own attire dark, but if she kept her face hidden perhaps she would be mistaken for a shadow and left alone. Or perhaps a bodyguard. It was a slim chance, but the best one she had. Above all, she hoped that Prince Akio would not recognize her. She'd not been at the ceremony long, and she'd managed to keep herself from ever being put in the spotlight directly. She'd been all but forced into wearing her hair up, too, so she looked somewhat different from normal, even with the peekaboo bangs. Maybe that would be enough. If she was lucky.

The Plague Knight Chronicles: Chapter 1

Shiara Cazarin, bone mage

Shiara considered offering her assistance to the apprentice, but it was obvious the two shared a close bond. Instead she lead their strange quartet back towards the crypt, with Noa's light to guide her. Before long the older knight was walking without aid, an amazing recovery after the injuries she thought he'd sustained. Shiara was curious -- both a virtue and a failing, according to her teachers. Not now. Wait until we are above ground, and the man has had a chance to rest -- and to decide what he wishes to share. And you to figure out what other aid you can offer. There was a brush of approval from Kem as she counselled herself to patience.

The idea of more Cursed was not a pleasant one, though now with bits of bone she would be able to study them, and fashion a better shield, perhaps determine the cause. The place where someone had broken through from crypt to sewer -- or perhaps the other way -- made her pause a moment, to examine the crumbling wall. "It will need to be fixed," she murmured, casting the light from her bracelet over it. "Until it is it will weaken the protection consecrated ground offers, and cause problems in turn," she murmured, and sighed. Such an endeavor would not be an easy one, she suspected, and her skills did not lie in building and masonry. With the breach as it was, she would not be able to fully restore the graveyard's spiritual threshold, but she might at least strengthen it some.

The apprentice knight's question brought Shiara back to their current predicament: underground in a crypt they'd fallen into. "Ah, sorry. Give me a moment, and I should be able to find someone that knows the way." She lifted a hand before her, calling Kem to her under her breath to lend strength to her sense for spirits and echoes. The ones buried in the crypt were older than those buried above, and so their presence was weaker. It took some several moments before the young bone mage could acquire an echo strong enough to follow. Fortunately the crypt was less a labyrinth and more many smaller passages off a single main hallway, and that hallway had a presence strong enough to pick up. "This way. The main corridor should be just a turn or two ahead, and it will take us up into the church itself."

How Not to be a Douchebag 101

When the unknown one retreated again, Rhylaen settled back on her haunches and considered him for a long moment, running over what she knew. Agent-Day's tinny voice through her earpiece brought the young woman out of her thoughts. "No...is tired, is weak. Is...maybe hurting?" Rhylaen wished briefly that she was older, wiser, but that was a futile desire. Age and wisdom took time. "Maybe turn down lights?" The lights were hurting her eyes, suited as she was to life in half-shadowed places. If they bothered her after only a little while, how much more must it bother one that was suited to darkness?

"Ask science men, can turn down lights? Please?" she asked after a moment, this time putting certainty into her voice. "I be responsible." She focused on the one in the blankets again, straining to reaching her thoughts out, but her weak telepathy was not meant for the purpose she tried to turn it to.