SilverPaw

Dreaming Together With You - A Fading Memory Experiment - On Hiatus

Yeah I noticed and I think it could lead to a really good connection. I can imagine something along the lines of them being good childhood friends but the emerging different approaches to their common issue has caused a rift in recent years. While they are still friends, the looming idea of what happens after school ends is always there.

Let me know what you think. I took a good amount of liberties with it, but I like the idea.

@Jumbus

Hey, you built up on my suggestion, so yeah, that's great. Works for me.

Just some proposed relationships for the characters. I assume that they all attend the same, relatively small high school, and at least know each other.

Damon Howard: In general, she probably finds him vapid, but they might commiserate about being in the Shitty Dad Club.

@Gisk

Lol, fair; he does care for his image. Also, membership in the unofficial Shitty Dad Club accepted.

Dreaming Together With You - A Fading Memory Experiment - On Hiatus

@psych0pomp Think our guys' families would have beef, but the boys could be (unlikely?) friends. Also, though I didn't write it, I figure Damon would be a part of the student council.

...Which also leads me to you @Jumbus. Besides being fellow studing council members, there's some potentially interesting dynamics on how they're both facing pressure from a parent and the different ways they deal with it.

I'll see if I can think of anything for the others too, and if any of you have any ideas, that'd also be cool.

Dreaming Together With You - A Fading Memory Experiment - On Hiatus

Damon Howard

Name: Damon Howard

Age: 16

Gender | Sex | Identity: Male

Personality Description: At the core of it, what Damon most wants is to be liked, so he does what he can to make himself likeable. He desires admiration, and popularity…but perhaps the most of it all, acknowledgement. He is friendly, approachable, charming, polite, and respectable. He is a tad vain, but willing to play it off for laughs. He can be sarcastic, passive-aggressive, and too fixated on some things (e.g. his appearance, the notion of success), but at least he does have a backbone…Socially speaking, that is. In a physical altercation, Damon is almost next to useless. That is why he’d rather defuse tensions with words if at all possible.

It is known that Damon has aspirations to go to the city, and to ‘make it big’. He’s been enthralled with the metropolitan lifestyle since he was a child, and hasn’t given up on his dream since he’s first thought of it. This despite all the opposition, tensions, and stress he’s faced due to it. Despite his best efforts, this has caused him many issues in a town so insular as New Hope. Though he’s been determined not to look down on them all the way some of them do to him, it'd be a lie to say Damon has no resentment. He does, and has many frustrations and insecurities to boot. He just hides it all.

Physical Description: Of average height for his age and gender at 173 cm (5’8), he is hoping for more of a growth spurt. He has a very lithe, delicate frame, and a pale complexion which bruises and burns very easily. He is decently agile and dexterous, and is a good dancer. Despite having put quite some effort into improving it, his endurance is still middling at best. As far as any other athletic activities go, he is ‘ok’ at best. In group sports especially, he is rather the wild card; sometimes, he will pull off something remarkable, and others, he’ll fail disastrously. Whichever happens, most people assume he was just trying to show off…which is not too far off the mark.

Even from a distance, and at first glance, it is apparent Damon is trying to stand out. He dyes his hair, which is always neatly styled, trims his eyebrows, wears coloured contacts, has several earrings, paints his nails when the mood strikes, and even uses makeup for most of his online content. He orders most of his clothing online, preferring a city chick style. He moves with grace and purpose, many of his movements carefully studied and deliberate even when they seem entirely casual.

Backstory: The single child of Ashton Howard, of the Howards. The Howards were one of the early pioneers to New Hope, and have stuck around ever since. They’re responsible for the banking business, and other financial matters, and have often worked with or on the council. On the other hand, Damon’s mother, Mirabel (née Blanchard) moved to this small, calming village when she was 23. She’d come due to her poor constitution, and the environment seemed to suit her well. She married Ashton when she was 25 (and he was 31), and they had Damon but a year later.

While his mother was still alive, things were good. Damon went to school, had friends, and a decent family. Sure, there were conflicts between his two sets of grandparents, but since his maternal ones lived away, it was never that much of an issue. Mirabel, who worked as a private music teacher, taught her son the piano, and to sing. She encouraged all his interests (dancing, acting…), even if they were considered ‘unusual’ by many others. She took him out to her home city the few times that she could, and was the one to expand his horizons, as it were.

But then, when he was 13, she died of a terminal illness at 39 years of age. That’s when everything changed. Damon’s father most especially. Ashton’s parents renewed their criticisms for his having married some out-of-towner, and have been trying to push him towards a remarriage. Though he resisted that, for some (to Damon inexplicable) reason, he veered hard towards traditionalism; whereas he’d been previously more or less neutral, he now associated closely with the likes of Ezekiel the Elder.

In turn, Ashton has been pressuring Damon, wanting him to stay in New Hope, and to take over the so-called family business. He’s been far less supportive of him; in fact, it’s almost as if the more time passes, the more he opposes all that his son wants, and does, and is. Damon feels that he has to fight for each and every inch of freedom – and that far too often, he is the one forced to make concessions.

Notable Connection
Ashton Howard, Damon’s father, banker (48). While Mirabel was still alive, Ashton was often too busy with his work to be there for him as much – but Damon remembers that he was affectionate both to him and his mother while at home, if subtly so. He was the silent support Damon hadn’t quite realized had been there until he lost it. With his mother gone, his father has begun to more actively involve himself in his life – but in the form of trying to control it. Needless to say, it’s a tense, strained relationship between father and son.

Open to other connections too!

Respond to these prompts in character:

You're in class and the Fire Alarm goes off. Everyone begins to panic.

“Panic? Me? Why would I panic? I know what to do. Just keep calm; act it, look it, and you’ll feel it, too…And! And! ‘Cause I so obviously know what I’m doing, it’d keep others calm, too, and we could all get out like we’re supposed to.”

You've made plans to go to the festival and are running late, but may make it in time to see the fireworks with your friends. On your way, you see a stranger with a flat tire on the side of the road.

“Yeah, sorry, but I don’t wanna let down my friends or miss the fireworks...Oh, but, hm. Maybe if I gave them a hand, they’d give me a ride over? Win-win, right?”

You fall asleep in class and begin to dream; you're atop a ruined tower and a massive dragon circles overhead. You reach for...

“…Gold to give to the dragon, so it doesn’t eat me in exchange?”

The world is so boring; you wish you had a super power. What do you wish for?

“Hmm…A way to get people to do what I liked? But maybe then it really would be too boring. Oh, what about staying young, good-looking, and healthy?” Then, he visibly became more somber than usual. “…If I had had a way to help my mother…That. That’s what I’d pick.”

You are suddenly reminded that tomorrow is the Midterm Exam.

Damon picked up his phone, and the following could be heard, his tone polite though his expression was clearly annoyed:

“Yes?”

“I know…thank you.”

“Of course I studied.”

“Yes, father, I am ready.”

Blankly, he removed the phone from his ear and stared at the ‘call ended’ notification on it. “Goodbye to you, too,” he snarked.

Dreaming Together With You - A Fading Memory Experiment - On Hiatus

So far I've considered i) an influencer of some sort (possibly a kid from one of the founding families, if they're still around) in this world, maybe sth. like a warlock in the other, and ii) someone interested in vet./animal rescue here, a tamer/healer (with a dash of alchemy?) there. This ofc made with the assumption that there's something like the usual fantasy 'classes' or roles in the other world.

Also...congrats on the marriage?

Dreaming Together With You - A Fading Memory Experiment

Potentially intrigued.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: No cloak Time: 12:00 pm Location: The Entrance Hall -> His study Mention(s): @Heartfillia Crystal, @princess Charlotte Interaction(s): @Helo Callum, @princess Edin

Wulfric nodded at the departing Lady Crystal, who managed to get entangled with Auguste as soon as she left his table. He quirked up a curious eyebrow, and wondered if it really was all so unintended on her part as it seemed. Maybe she did possess some deviousness, despite her apparent naïveté.

Be as it may, he had been at this event for the required hour, and felt as if he had had enough. Nor were there any others he was much inclined to speak to. Besides, as he’d said to Crystal, he did in fact have some other minor business to attend to.

Standing up smoothly, he gave the crowd another bow. Turning on his heel, he smirked to himself, and departed.

Before leaving the hall, however, he first stopped by Callum’s side. “Come meet me in my office once you are done here,” he leaned down to murmur, and briefly laid a palm upon his brother’s shoulder.

Then, he made his way towards Edin. “I will be taking my leave now, father,” he informed the king briefly but politely. “It has been an hour, and there is hardly any in that throng remaining who would be worthy of my attention.” He curled his lips into a haughty smile, and met the older man’s eyes with a look that invited understanding.

Wulfric waited to be dismissed officially, then left. Though he wanted to drop his expression as soon as he’d turned around, he let it fade in a more natural manner. At the back of his mind was a thought he was habituated to ignoring. One which reminded him that his father was the one unworthy. Unworthy of ruling, and unworthy of existence, that was.

But, as was his wont, he pushed that nagging feeling back into the unconscious.

For now, there were a few things he wished to cross off his to-do list.

***

Once in his study, he flipped through one of his smallest notebooks – titled 'Dailies' – to the most recent entries.

The last note, on the beginning of a new page (which was marked with today’s date), was a simple one:

C. F. Hendrix

That was obviously in relation to this morning. Wulfric took a pen, and made another addition below:

Layla – absent; phys., psych.?

The former referred to the two counts of her physical absence – the afterparty, the morning meeting – and the latter, to her brief distraction during their conversation.

He tapped his pen next to the two names as he considered them. His idle action stained the page with ink blots, but he cared not.

They were but two…of several guests.

…Guests.

Guests, who as so happened, had a whole guest residence they’d been put in. It would be no hardship to have someone mark their comings and goings. Not only of the two he’d been most recently thinking about, but everyone’s.

Anything that was unusual had to be known. To recognize the unusual, of course, one had to know what was usual.

Perhaps it was time to expand upon that good old nobles’ staple – servant spies.

Satisfied with that decision, he browsed a drawer for another notebook. This one was designated as 'Measures'. He thumbed through to the first empty page, and divided it into two columns with a line which, for being handwritten, was surprisingly neat. He wrote 'Imprv. – Intel' atop the first column. Atop the second one, he made a similar notation of 'Imprv. – Security'.

For a moment or two, he simply stared at the blank columns. His temple throbbed, and Wulfric frowned as he rubbed it. With a sigh, he once again reached into the drawer, and took out his bottle of painkillers. He swallowed two pills dry, and his gaze happened to stray to the still opened 'Dailies'. The last entry for the previous day read:

L. C. Vikena – tea; inv.

Ah. Wulfric blinked. He did recall saying something of that nature to her, but he had not yet issued a proper invitation.

Well, then. Since he expected Callum to arrive shortly, Wulfric decided to accomplish the simpler task first. He called for refreshments to his office. Then, while sipping at a cup of tea to set the proper ambiance, he wrote the following:

Letter

---

The First Prince to the Lady Vikena
Sorian, Sola 21.^st 1739

---

Madam,

as I was enjoying a very early afternoon cup of excellently prepared tea, I happened to recall our conversation at the ball. Last night, I issued your Ladyship an invitation to tea, which to my delight, you accepted. We did not yet discuss the details for a potential meeting, which I wish to rectify. If you have no other obligations, and so desire, you may find me at The Oasis Tea Cafe, Today, at XX pm. I realize I am notifying you of this on a discourteously short notice, so I will understand if you are unable to send a return letter, or if you cannot join me. In the latter case, I am confident we will be able to arrange another, better time to meet.

If we do not see each other for the rest of today by happenstance or otherwise: I wish you a good day. My blessings, too, for the challenging evening I expect you may have. Do recall, you can rely on Auguste. Nor should you forget your own valour; you have shown it in an exceedingly difficult situation. Believe that you will be able to face future demands, whether today or any other day – I do – and hold yourself with confidence.

Respectfully,

Prince Wulfric A. Danrose

Once written, the letter was carefully put into an envelope, sealed, then sent off.

ʜᴀᴡᴛʜᴏʀɴᴇ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍʏ

Roxanne Laurent | Vampire

ROXANNE LAURENT

_______________________________________________ ROXANNE LAURENT | HETEROFLEXIBLE | 9f2b68 | VAMPIRE ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ 23 | FEMALE | 5'6 | 5TH YEAR ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ☀ Sociable | Approachable | Attentive | Confident | Diverting | Resourceful ☁ Reckless | Capricious | Prodding | Untrusting | Duplicitous | Unsympathetic ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ LIKES Bladed weaponry | Fencing | Flowers | Figure skating | Information & Gossip | Flirting | Skinship | Hot chocolate | Blood | Alcohol | Live music | Dancing | Wristwatches | Art | Patterns | Fluffy rugs | Secrets DISLIKES Losing | Being subordinate | Restrictions | Learning by rote | Dry texts (like legislation, ugh) | Potions | Shrill noises | Most corduroy clothing (get that off you, please) | Loud chewing | Nail biting | Sloppiness | Misfiling | Kitsch | Peeling (wood, paint, skin…) | White sugar

s k í l l s & w є α k n є s s є s ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ STRENGTHS Addictive saliva. There are naturally minuscule amounts of a psychoactive drug present within her saliva. During and directly after a feeding, the narcotic is at its most potent. It acts as a depressant, similar to morphine: induces euphoria, alleviates pain and anxiety, lowers inhibition, dulls senses, and hinders cognition. Humans develop a craving for more of the same after one to two feedings. As for supernaturals? The rumours are inconclusive. Currently weakened due to having to take a suppressant. Great listener. Always willing to lend an ear, and proactive about offering it to those who look troubled. Though Roxanne’s motives are by no means altruistic, her conversation partner usually comes out happier for it. Somewhat related, she’s primarily an auditory learner, and whether it’s lectures or gossip, she remembers most of what she hears. Blood hunter. She’s a heightened sense of smell and taste for blood. She can track the smallest trace amounts wide and far, and will eventually be led to the correct target. Once she’s memorized someone’s blood scent, she can recognize them by that alone. However, vampires are the trickiest for her to recognize and/or track, because their blood is not quite ‘theirs’. Acrobat. Roxanne is excellently agile, flexible, and dexterous. She took lessons in gymnastics, dancing, and ice-skating. She’s learned the art of knife throwing purely for its aesthetic appeal. She has been a part of the fencing club since entering the academy. She’s been quite successful applying her natural agility and acrobatic skills to combat. WEAKNESSES Thrill-seeker. She’s easily bored, and veers between feeling empty or filled to bursting with repressed frustrations. Her solution is to seek out ever varied, intense sensations. It’s what makes her feel alive, or lets her forget her worries for just a bit. It’s the spice to her life…But one that is potentially ruinous. Suspicious. While she doesn’t show it, she questions the motives of others, and doesn’t trust easily – if at all. Feeling like she can’t – or shouldn’t – rely on the people at the Academy can make for an isolating experience. Oh, she’ll confide her mundane troubles, alright, but anything truly personal? She’ll keep it to herself and do all she can to resolve it on her own. Ambivalent reputation. For good or ill, the Laurent family name is a well-known one. She has been met with a wide range of responses due to it; from some, pity, hatred, disgust, haughty superiority, attempts to use, control or destroy her…from others, fascination, curiosity, wary admiration, even expectations of kinship. In most cases, it’s a hassle she could do without. Blood. Why, yes, her family does indulge. She took it for granted that she could have the occasional human snack at home. The years at the Academy she spent having to abstain have been grating on her. More so is having to pretend that she isn’t tempted. OUTLOOK / IDEALS / PERSPECTIVE ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Vampires. Those who by nature should be at the top of the food chain, and yet…It is not so. They’re all so powerful, if only they put aside their differences – at least until their spot at the top was ensured. Unfortunately, there are far too many vampires willing to follow the rules set by the mages, for one reason or another…as she very well knows. Magic folk. She’s met a few that are fine, but as a group, Roxanne can’t help but feel deeply resentful of them. Why do they get to use their natural abilities however they please when she and her kin do not? They act as if they’re oh so just, but at the end of the day, all they want is to be the ones in power. Why doesn’t everyone see that ‘benign’ or not, an overlord is an overlord? (Of course, she’d much rather if vampires were the ones to rule.) Werewolves. She knows her family had many a grievance towards them in the past, but the Laurents can’t really afford to squabble much with them as is. While Roxanne won’t back down if confronted by one, she won’t seek enemies needlessly. She doesn’t particularly enjoy the idea of allying with werewolves, but if there happened to be some dissatisfied with and willing to change the current system? Well, might well use that energy, see where it leads. Humans. Short-lived, mundane lessers. Yes, yes, many are clever, and they do come up with the most wondrous of things…but also those most terrible. They should be the ones kept in check, controlled by their betters. And there are just so many of them! Why do they need so much protecting, when no one could possibly miss a few gone here and there? Others. Whatever other varieties of supernaturals, she has no particular opinions of them on a group-basis, so judges each individual by their own merit. AMBITIONS ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ➽➽➽ Becoming someone powerful and influential. ➽➽➽ Earning a better position for her family…and for vampires in general. ➽➽➽ Find some sensible way so that those vampires who wished to hunt could, but without risking turning humanity as a whole against supernaturals. FEARS ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ➽➽➽ Failure. ➽➽➽ Becoming complacent. ➽➽➽ Dying, but especially that she will die unhappy, unfree, and dissatisfied. ➽➽➽ That she will do something foolish, and that her family will pay the price for it. в í σ g r α p h ч ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ▿ ▵ ▿ ▵ The Laurent family was once upon a time one of the greater aristocratic vampire families. They trace their history back to Ancient Rome, which is when the biological narcotic they are so infamous for first emerged in a certain vampire. This progenitor saw an opportunity and took it. He secretly used his gift to his advantage, and experimented how to pass it on. He discovered that every turned vampire would have the same trait, but at varying potency. Meanwhile, only the rare born vampire obtained it, but theirs was at least as strong as his own. It is believed that he managed to gain the cooperation of a few magicals to ensure that whether turned or born, every of his ancestors would inherit this unique advantage. The Laurent family strived for centuries to turn things into their favour, breaking Academy rules without making it seem as if they were doing so. However, whether because their influence spread too far, or they gained the wrong kind of allies (and enemies), their sins were eventually brought to light. It was sometime in the 15th century that the family was punished. The clan was nearly exterminated in the process, but the last few survivors pledged themselves to the Academies once again. They made whatever concessions were demanded of them: that they would never grow beyond a certain number, that their activities would be more closely tracked, that they and their children would willingly take a suppressant to snuff the effects of their narcotic saliva. Most of their territories, wealth, and other possessions were lost back then. But they’ve kept in line, and have worked hard to amass profits anew. They have been making a slow, gradual recovery. In modern times, they have nowhere near the power or influence to be recognized as anything but ‘that fallen aristocratic family’. They are a rich family, but only one among the many in the supernatural world. Their former status is of next to no aid to them now. Especially since many barely tolerate their continued existence…at best. However, if nothing else, their survival has intrigued some others, so it is not as if they are entirely without allies. They’ve also become much subtler and more cautious in any illicit activities they partake in. Roxanne was born in an environment wherein the Laurents are only reluctantly accepting of the impositions placed upon them. Her relatives still (mostly) choose to pragmatically abide by the new agreement between her family and the mages. Roxanne was the first children born to her parents, who are fairly young for vampires at around two to three centuries years of age. Her father (Lucien) is also a born Laurent, while her mother (Carla Mauriello) hails from another vampiric family, one of far less renown. Only when one of Roxanne's older relatives, Simonne Laurent, died, were the Laurents permitted another child. For her clan has already reached the maximum number permitted to them, and thus, every new birth to their line requires another of theirs to die. Her parents were both adoring, loving their precious daughter. But Roxanne was also told what being a Laurent meant, primarily by her father, who knew from personal experience. What she learned has never sat well with Roxanne. Especially not after the first time when she experienced the joy of drinking blood from an actual human. However, as much as it chafed her, she knew they were not ready for direct opposition…not any time soon. So, even after entering Hawthorne, where she often felt like some caged animal, she tried being patient for the sake of her parents. Tried being the keyword, as her years there have not made her any more patient.

---

Echoes of a Moonless Night

Karin craned her head at Ayame once the youkai started complaining to get out of doing some actual work. If at first her look was unimpressed, she soon grew amused. “I hate inefficiency? Damn, you should be telling Sakura-sensei all about how organized I am…” she snorted, shaking her head. Not that she’d be visiting her former high school any time soon, but the comment struck her as too funny not to comment.

“And, do you seriously think I don’t know how much you can read for fun? Now stop being a lazy fox, and get to it,” she huffed. Thus, Karin did not provide a summary...but Fumi and Akio did. “She’d have figured it out,” Karin said with a roll of her eyes, but wasn’t too put off either. It did, in fact, get them on the way sooner, and she was kind of itching for some action, just a bit.

On the way out, Karin took her blunt-edged sword out of her workroom locker. Soon, she and Ayame, and Akio and Fumi were at the apartment building. It was eerily quiet, and at first glance, both the outside of the building and the interior seemed normal.

“I don’t like this,” Karin muttered, nervous tension running through her body. Was this designed to try and lull them into a false sense of security? Either they relaxed, and got jumped, or didn’t, and wasted energy being extra vigilant all the time, after which they’d be attacked the moment they lost focus or were too tired to keep it up. Exhaling slowly, the adolescent brought herself to a state somewhere in the middle; neither entirely casual, nor too keyed up.

@Vertigo@PKMNB0Y

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: No cloak Time: 11:00 am Location: The Entrance Hall Mention(s): @Helo Callum, @Inertia Auguste Interaction(s): @Heartfillia Crystal

Wulfric had honestly not put forth any more thought to the peasant girl, who was fleeing Callum’s table after her spectacular fall. But events unfolded…very strangely, to say the least. Father getting enraged and calling the guards on her was expected, he supposed, though far from necessary. The girl seemed to have been on her way out anyhow. Next thing he knew, Callum was picking up an onion from the floor, and proceeded to bite into it.

Why the fuck.

Yes, he could surmise it was to distract the king, so the old man would not direct his full attention to that fatally clumsy commoner. But just what did his brother think his actions actually achieved?

What is it today, ‘saving peasants’ day? Feeling a headache build up, Wulfric massaged his temple as discreetly as possible.

I need another goddamn coffee. There was a small part of him which was tempted to stroll up to Callum’s table, and steal whatever was left of his brother’s beverage. That was the least his sibling could do for being the source of his troubles. Gaze drawn towards him, he saw that his brother was now looking at everyone and everything else except him.

Guilt… Wulfric lightly scoffed to himself. An ever unreliable emotion. He was willing to bet that Callum didn’t regret the spectacle he’d made of himself, nor would he choose another course of action given the chance. Frankly, Wulfric had not even expected Callum to curb his tendency to provoke the king as part of their agreement.

Technically, Callum’s actions still went against what he had said he would (try to) do. But Wulfric wasn’t especially angry, really. Just a tiring mix of exasperated, frustrated, bitter, and perplexed. Pushing all of that aside, he decided to speak to his youngest brother after this event.

If there was one potential positive of the stunt Callum had pulled, it was that Ariella Edwards was drawn to him. The two then started up what appeared to be a mutually engaging conversation. Wulfric couldn’t help but wonder, She goes for that? Prince or not, most people were appalled by, disgusted at, and detracted from someone going out of their way to be purposefully revolting, chewing open-mouthed.

Issuing a long, quiet breath, Wulfric redirected his focus to the crowds, to see if anyone else was lining up for him.

There was someone; lady Crystal, frozen in place as if she were cornered prey, her eyes flitting nervously from him to Auguste. Peripherally, Wulfric saw Auguste dealing with a fleeing Zarai. (Why had Zarai run away anyhow?)

Thus, it was left to him to deal with the frightful Lady Damien. He had not missed her squeak nor the following embarrassment colouring her cheeks. Yet another consequence of his father’s blundering outburst.

Wulfric affected his best facsimile of a kind smile, a gesture which he had perfected through years of observing and mimicking Auguste’s. It was not merely a copy, however, as he had adapted it to better suit his usual expressions and demeanor. His version was barely an up-tick of his lips, but he softened his gaze, and lightly crinkled his eyes. It helped to think of a precise moment when he’d felt genuine fondness. For example…

A very young, energic hound, as it ran a circle or three around him, then pushed its snout into his hand.

The prince stood up, and bowed. “Welcome, Lady Crystal.” Then, because she was still standing a fair distance away, and because he was unsure if his words would suffice to encourage her, he approached. He kept up his smile, and took care in his movements, so as not to spook her.

Once close enough, he nodded another greeting. “If I may escort you?” he asked quietly. With his left arm, he flourished invitingly to his table. Quirking his eyebrow up in a silent inquiry, he made a much smaller gesture with his right, offering his other arm to her. Aware his invitation may put her on the spot, the very least he could do was ensure that his offer to physically escort her to the table was one she would not feel pressured to accept.

And if she still ran away after all this, at the very least no one would be able to say that he had not been gallant.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Wulfric & Saiya

---

---

The group of women closest to the door could see into the room and gaze upon the princes, something that excited many of them as they eagerly waited to be let in. Some were even almost jumping up and down with excitement, especially as they watched Layla leave Wulfric. Saiya was currently at the front of the group and she simply observed everything around her, watching Layla leave and wondering when they would be let in. For the first few minutes she waited patiently, but after being made to stand there and just stare at the empty chair in front of Wulfric, she decided to take a chance. Before she could be stopped, she slipped into the room and confidently began to head in Wulfric’s direction. There were some gasps of shock and confusion, but she was in front of the crown prince before anyone could stop her. This was something she found interesting and concerning.

“Apologies for the sudden intrusion, Your Royal Highness, but it did not seem like they were about to allow the next group in any time soon and I found that quite inefficient as there were hundreds of women waiting to meet you. So I decided to take initiative in order to not waste any of your valuable time.” Saiya said as she dipped low into a curtsy. As she stood back up straight, her eyes met Wulfric’s and she gave him a warm smile. “I am Lady Saiya Ansari, adopted daughter of the Grand Vizier.” She introduced herself before glancing at the chair. “May I take a seat?”

Wulfric had taken a few moments to think what the possible reasons for Layla’s short distraction during their conversation might have been. During his own moment of inattention, there was a disturbance in the crowds. Wulfric zeroed in on the cause of it, and saw Lady Saiya make her way up to him. No one thought to stop her, or to advise her to wait her turn – just as no one had thought to disarm that foreign warrior who’d entered as well armed as if he were aiming to battle. Really, it was enough to give anyone a complex about security.

As the prince tracked her with his gaze, he saw what his brother had meant when he’d said her movements betrayed her proficiency. Though her gait was more akin to a dancer’s, one would be a fool to believe that that was all she was. It was quite subtle, but yes, he could see her as a fighter. Granted, he might not have noticed that in her short walk towards him had Auguste not pointed it out. She did not carry any weapons openly, but that did not foreclose the possibility of her having any that were hidden. Wulfric was neither bothered nor concerned, but it was one more mark in favour of him getting into the habit of always being armed.

Regardless of his thoughts, he offered Saiya one of his patented smiles, and briefly stood up to give her a crisp bow. “Well, I do appreciate efficiency,” he said, amusement creeping in, though the statement was truthful. Adjusting his tone to one that was more appropriate for a polite conversation with a stranger, he added, “Knowing when to take initiative is admirable, too.” He glanced at the sour or scandalized expressions of those gathered behind her before returning his gaze to the lady in front of him. “Especially when you do so despite being surrounded by such a…competitive bunch, shall we say.” He chose a neutral phrase, because he was certain Saiya wouldn’t enjoy it if he likened the women there to rabid dogs. Unkind, and unfair to some of them? Admittedly. Nonetheless, it was an accurate comparison. Yet one which was to be kept in the strict privacy of his mind.

At her introduction, and following question, Wulfric nodded. “Welcome, Lady Saiya, and please do take a seat.” He had not known she was adopted by the Vizier, but merely made note of the information without reacting to it in any way. “We did not have the chance to converse yesterday, but my brother did in fact mention you to me. It seems you’ve left an impression.” The light tantalization in his sentence was purposeful, and he watched how she responded to that tid-bit.

After a brief glance over her shoulder at the annoyed crowd of women, Saiya took a seat and gave Wulfric her full attention. “I do suppose I may have painted a bit of a target on my back.” She said with a soft, amused laugh. She had little worry over that, however, as she had a feeling that many of those women back there were truly little threat to her. She smoothed her skirt out as she listened to him speak, a slight moment of surprise hitting her as he mentioned the impression she left with Auguste. “It’s good to know our little dance left an impression.” She met his gaze with a coy grin.

“And now you have a chance to deepen that impression,” Wulfric smirked.

“You know, this little event is quite interesting and unusual. Is this something that you do often?” There was a curious tone to her words.

“If by ‘this’ you mean meet and greet events, or those whose aim is for my brothers and I to consider potential marriage prospects…Then there are indeed many,” he replied neutrally, though he was curious why she was. “However, one exactly like this one? There has not been one before.” Tilting his head, he decided to prompt, “Why? Is it truly so unusual compared to social events you hold in Genasea?”

“If there were merely noblewomen here to meet with you I would say it wasn’t quite unusual, however…” Saiya paused as she briefly glanced over at the young woman rushing away from the youngest prince, dropping onions as she went. Her brow furrowed in a bit of confusion for a moment, finding the scene odd and slightly humorous. “It seems the invitation is also extended to the common folk and that is what I find unusual.” Her attention turned back to Wulfric, a genuine smile on her lips now. “It is also admirable as I find it wise to get to know those you are to care for as a ruler. Doing so helps to keep the peace and makes for an admired and loved king.” She explained, fully aware that who she spoke with was the crowned prince.

A clatter interrupted their conversation, and Wulfric turned his head much as Saiya had. Apparently, the girl with heterochromia was suffering from an affliction much worse; clumsiness. Clearly, she was a peasant. However, the dress she had somehow managed to procure was passable. Which was the only reason Edin hadn’t thrown her out initially. After this blunder of hers, though…

Ah, and there the girl went dropping onions now. No doubt Callum found this charming.

Having seen enough, the prince returned his regard to Saiya. “This was announced in the newspaper, after all,” he commented. He raised a brow at her following comments and demeanour. If she believed the inclusion of peasants was intentional, she had obviously not been there to see how the king had dismissed out of hand two such lessers. Alternatively, she had, and was giving her critique with exceptional subtleness.

Either way, her opinions on rulership were certainly closer to those Zarai or Auguste (…and probably Callum) would espouse. And she wished to gauge his. “It makes for good publicity, at the very least.” Privately, he thought that his father had a way of turning what could be ‘good’ into…something less so.

“But I do believe there are better ways of caring,” Wulfric didn’t bother hiding that he had issues with that phrasing. Certainly, a ruler had to care for their nation and its people, but if caring was all that one was…It brought with it a host of issues. Such as having one’s authority diminished, having that kindness (or leniency) taken advantage of, or being entirely helpless when faced with difficult, harsh decisions.

“Too, I doubt I will learn of people’s desires within this one hour something I do not already know.” He took in the group of hopefuls, so full of dreams and fantasies. Some had ambitions more plausible, others quite possibly realistic goals. Individual differences aside, they were all united in one thing: There was something they wished to gain. Wulfric mused that if not that, it was fear of losing what they had which was the driving force behind human behavior. Then, there were those driven to desperation because they believed they had nothing to gain nor anything to lose. The latter group…in some ways, those could be the most dangerous. For their sheer unpredictability, if nothing else.

Quite soon, he was once again meeting Saiya’s eyes. “Though, as one of my teachers used to say: Every day is a day to learn…and one can learn even – or especially – from the most unexpected of sources.” Half smiling, he deigned to offer a slight concession to her point.

There was one particular thing that Wulfric said which really stuck out to Saiya. It was good publicity, at least. So, appearances were important to him, this wasn’t anything to fault him over as appearances should be important…to a point. In the short time of speaking with him she had worked out a few things. First, he certainly was different from his father and seemed to take after his mother. She could see positives and negatives in this, but it wasn’t anything alarming to her. At very least, he would likely be a better king than Edin. What kind of kingdom would Edin leave him, though? Just from the brief observation she’d made of Wulfric’s father, if he remained king for much longer, Wulfric may be left with a kingdom on the verge of rebellion. Would he be able to quell that ire? Either way, one thing she’d learned from her own father is that no matter what kind of ruler you are, there will always be people that disagree with you and think they could do better.

Her second observation, Wulfric would go for the best match that would boost the appearance of his kingdom. Love was rarely in the cards for nobles and royals and it seemed the crown prince had accepted this. She had a feeling he would observe all of the top matches of this season and would choose the match that would best compliment the way he wished to rule. Wulfric was truly playing a game of chess and he was good at it. It was something she could admire, but it also made her sad that it was something he seemed to feel he had to do. Either way, she didn’t sense any ill intent from him towards Alidasht. He was simply playing the game he was born into.

“There certainly are many ways of caring and all have their merits and downfalls. You may not learn anything from them with this event, but they in turn may learn something from you.” Saiya’s voice was soft, kind, and was full of a genuine friendliness as she spoke these words. “You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, Wulfric. While we’ve only spoken for a few minutes now, you’ve managed to make quite an impression on me. I get the sense you’re going to do well as king one day.” She knew she was being bold by using only his name and no titles, but she felt it appropriate for the moment. He seemed to be a bit different from his brother Auguste, but there was something about him that Saiya found charming. Like with Auguste, she hoped they would have more opportunities to talk over the season.

Wulfric inclined his head when Saiya spoke of merits and demerits, as it was reasonable. He thought it somewhat strange when she said that others may learn something from him rather than of him. But it was in line with what he had sensed of her preferences; namely, that she appreciated a personal, one-on-one approach. He raised a brow at her using his given name, but didn’t rebuke her. Nor did he care a whit what she or anyone else thought about what he would be like as a ruler. In fact, he tended to be dismissive of such evaluations at best.

In the back of his mind, an uncharitable thought of Just who does she think–? susurrated, but he suppressed it. She was, in fact, a member of the royal family. Besides, he could recognize a compliment for what it was, and accept it as such. So, he gave a dignified nod, and simply said, “Thank you.” Unlike Hendrix, he felt like rather than trying to earn his favour, she was acknowledging him as a future ally. For that, he could muster some genuine appreciation. Thus, he reciprocated with, “You also strike me as very sensible.” His smile held barely any warmth, but it was enough to lend credence to his words.

“Well, I’m sure there’s many others here that wish to have your attention and swoon over you, so I shall let them have their moment. Thank you for this, Your Highness. I truly enjoyed myself and hope we get to have more conversations in the future.” She said as she began to get up, dipping into a low curtsy, and giving him one more smile before leaving his table.

“It was enjoyable for me as well.” Unexpectedly, he had been engaged, no matter that it was a brief chat. “I am sure we will have the chance to converse in the future,” Wulfric replied. He supposed he would not mind speaking with her again. Perhaps, he was impressed, if reluctantly so. He gave a respectful nod in her direction as she stood up. Then, his table was once again vacated.