SilverPaw

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

The Falcon and the Wolf

Farim & Wulfric

Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Early afternoon

---

---

Farim had made his way to Wulfric’s horse, and during the pause in conversation before Wulfric made his way out, admired the horse once more. The stallion seemed well kept after, healthy, and a proper specimen of equine capabilities. Farim had scarce the time to interact with horses outside of Munir’s pet horse back home, and he enjoyed the chance to meet or interact with friendly creatures. But before he got too lost in thought, he readied himself for the conversation he prepared to have with Wulfric. From what he knew of the man, the news he planned to share could be taken in great strides or with curt malcontent. For Farim’s sake, he silently prayed for the former.

At a stranger’s approach without his owner present, the horse shook its tail and mane, snorting as it stomped one hoof against the ground. However, the prince’s familiar voice soon carried over, “Calm, Tio.” The stallion obeyed, then softly nickered in greeting, and Wulfric untied it from its post. The prince turned to address Farim. “You said you wish to speak about something, but it may be better to relocate. The middle of the street is hardly an appropriate place,” he suggested. “Any preferences on whether we remain outdoors or retreat indoors?” He would offer his office and the park as candidates, though if the Shahzade had something else in mind, he’d lead them there instead.

Farim took note of the idea of relocating, and nodded in agreement. Truthfully, back home, most conversations truly did just happen out in the open, amongst busy and crowded streets even. But this was just another one of the “little things” that made the customs of each land unique. “Ah, my apologies then. I am happy to discuss where you may prefer. I am actually heading back to the guest house where my family is staying once we have concluded. We could talk there or if you prefer somewhere closer to your family home, perhaps?” His usual cheery demeanor persisted, an uncanny smile placed on his face as he poked and prodded at the man’s preferences. If they were to reconvene, inside would likely be best, but he did not want to impose a location on the older brother after already taking up a fair portion of his afternoon.

“The guest house is fine.” It didn’t seem that the prince cared one way or another as long as they weren’t loitering right in front of a restaurant. Thus, he led his steed by the rope while walking alongside the Shahzade in silence. It was a quick walk to the building, as even without consciously hurrying, Wulfric’s pace was rather brisk. Once again, he tied Tio outdoors, and left him to wait after offering a few pats. He then headed straight indoors. The servants they passed issued quiet, polite greetings, while Wulfric simply gestured for them to be at ease and continue on as they were. He strode the direction of the reading room, and found them a secluded, private nook to sit and speak in. When Farim was settled in as well, he motioned for him to say his piece, looking towards the man with politely curious expectation.

The walk was indeed quicker than Farim had anticipated, finding himself lost in the prospect of what to say. Word choice was important, and delivery even moreso. Farim made sure to give the help a proper greeting all the same, and dismiss any of their constant attempts to offer food, beverage, or assistance. As they found themselves within the reading room, Farim turned to face the man, arms crossed and for the first time a more intense expression. He still spoke with a friendly tone but the concentration and subject matter still carried that aura of respect that he was sure would be important.

“Since coming here, I must say your nation is a lovely one. I have met a few individuals already, and have already begun to get into the rhythm of this entire courting season.” Farim’s hand moved, palm now facing the ceiling, as he did a slight shrug. “As informal as it may be to speak so matter-of-factly. That is one of the larger reasons we are all gathered in such large numbers, after all. The prospect of finding a suitable partner and all, whether for personal or political reasons.” He met Wulfric’s gaze as he talked, not wanting to look away or show meekness at such a pivotal time.

“It is to my understanding that when one is to…express interest in such a person it is customary to inform the eldest male figures of the family of such a thing. That is why, out of both respect and to clear any form of suspicion or curiosity, I wish to speak my intentions plainly so that you may either rest easy or double down on that ‘overprotectiveness’ that you mentioned from earlier.” He smiled slightly, still wanting to throw in some form of casual lighthearted conversation to hopefully ease the tension that he could feel building.

Wulfric gazed on impassively as Farim began talking, crossing one leg over the other. “So, you wish to court my sister,” he summarized. He observed the man, his piercing, cool gray-blue irises giving the impression of seeing through all. Informing him first rather than Edin was a good call on Farim’s part. That he’d approached this so formally was another point in his favour. After a tension-filled moment, the prince nodded once.

“I believe you are serious in your intent, so I have no issues with you attempting it.” He steepled his hands together comfortably in his lap. “This might strike you as strange coming from me, but my sister is not your typical princess.” He imagined Farim knew that much, though he wondered if he was aware of the extent of her peculiarities.

“If - and only when - you manage to earn her favour and her serious consideration of you as a potential partner will you have any hope for the courting process…perhaps even marriage. Anastasia wasn’t the type to settle for a purely political union, and he didn’t intend to force one upon her. Granted, it was because Farim was a royal that Wulfric acquiesced with such ease.

“Naturally, if you harm her in any way,” a chilling smirk arose, “You’d best be ready to give up at least one limb.” Despite the cool amusement, one couldn’t possibly mistake him to be joking.

The Trade Prince had a feeling the eldest brother would catch on quickly. Once Thara was seen in her bedroom, and with how frequently Farim and Anastasia had been together lately, it was only a matter of time. “Well, it would seem you have the core of my message figured out.” He adjusted his posture and calmed his nerves, seeing how Wulfric’s reaction was a rather tame one all things considered.

“But allow me to clarify some things.” His hand gestured towards himself. “I am not some con artist looking to steal a woman from her family. I am seeking love in the purest sense of the word. So, I only mention that I have eyes on your sister. If she has eyes on me, then it can be official. It is her choice after all.” Farim began to pace back and forth, slowly, as he talked. However his gaze was locked onto Wulfric’s eyes with a look that could only be described as genuine, yet serious.

“I am sure there are many others seeking her favor, so if she shall choose another I shall respect it.” He stopped in his tracks, his eyes shifting downward, as if feeling hurt just thinking about it. But just as quickly as he stopped, he then approached Wulfric, eyes moving to meet his. “In a world of fake, cruel, and malicious people, your sister is a diamond in the rough. Her kindness won my attention, but in such a short time her sweet soul and caring nature have begun to win me over as a man. So that is why…” He paused for a moment, as if the very thought put a sour taste on his lips. “If I really am the cause of her hurt, you may take my good arm.” Holding up his right hand, Farim may have added a hint of sarcasm, yet his face seemed to be as serious as ever.

“That being said, if the source is someone else, I hope you do not mind if I show them a proper Alidasht punishment.” The blunt nature of his statement, however morbid, also was a chance for Farim to express how important this was to him. “I will likely be around much more, so of course you can always keep a watchful eye over one such as myself. I have nothing to hide, so I have nothing to fear.” Farim crossed his arms and waited for the man’s response.

Wulfric’s smile became a tad warmer at the Shahzade’s expansive answer. “Well, then, I imagine you and my sister might get along. I expect so could we.” He chuckled at Farim’s offered arm, and said, “In the unfortunate case that things go terribly awry, it very well might be something more…invaluable.” He gave a short but pointed glance towards the man’s crotch area. “But I do not think it will come to anything like that,” he smirked, slightly friendlier than before.

When Farim mentioned his desire to punish anyone who harmed Anastasia, Wulfric gave him a brief stare-down. “Whoever hurts her will be dealt with by me,” he asserted matter-of-factly. “However, depending on the circumstances, perhaps I will let you assist,” he added. “That aside, I am glad you are someone who seems to understand her, and values her for who she is. Though, convincing her might be the challenge,” Wulfric noted. He said nothing to the man’s offer of being watched; if he thought that was needed, he would do it. “That settled, was there anything else?”

The intent behind the message was clear. From Wulfric’s gaze Farim knew just what was at stake for upsetting the eldest Danrose. Still, he smirked and gave a sly retort. “How kind of you to consider it an entire limb.” Then there was the matter of the brother’s need to protect the woman first - a matter Farim yielded to because it was not his place to take the, dare he say, satisfaction of bringing justice to those who wrong his dear sister.

“I shall not overstep. Just like you, I am protective of some people. I am sure that Anastasia herself has been through quite a bit. So while it may very well be a challenge - it is a welcome one.” The heavy nature of his words began to lift at Wulfric’s reaction to the news. All things considered, the man had taken it well. “Ah. No, there is nothing further, unless you wish to ask me something yourself. Either way, should you need anything at a future time, my door is open.” Farim paused to let the prince speak, and would move to open the door for the gentleman on his way out of the guest house.

Wulfric’s expression matched Farim’s for a mere moment at the Alidasht prince’s playful comment. At the comment that Anastasia had been through much, however, his countenance sobered into a frown. “Yes, she has been.” The largest problem was that his sister barely seemed to recognize it, or perhaps she preferred to ignore it. But that wasn’t something he intended to discuss, so he shook his head. “Then we are finished here. I am sure we will be seeing more of each in the near future. I shall also be looking forward to your promised correspondence.” He alluded back to the topic they’d discussed previously, and after a respectful bow, took his leave.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: The costume Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Night Location: Calbert Damien's Ballroom Mention(s): Interaction(s): @PapaOso Cassius

Wulfric had gone on to give a brief greeting to the nobles he recognized, or to those who were perceptive enough to recognize him. He noticed Drake lingering at the entrance, no doubt waiting for Sadie. He raised a wine glass he’d procured his way, but decided to leave the duke’s son be. He was indulging in one of his favourite alcoholic drinks when a new guest appeared. Wulfric didn’t recognize the latest attendee immediately, but when he did, he didn’t pay him any mind besides noting that he was taking to his newly gained status like a duck to water.

But then, the man in question decided to approach him, and from his first to last words, one thing was abundantly clear.

The man was a relentless flirt.

Wonderful, Wulfric thought sourly. Someone new to pester him. If only he could, in his heart of hearts, truly maintain that there was no temptation, this wouldn’t be nearly as annoying. At the very least, however, he had better taste than to consider such a swaggering braggart a prospect.

“Why, thank you,” he accepted the compliment, unperturbed. He did appreciate Cassius’ chosen motif for the costume, but the last thing he wanted was to give him ideas. Wulfric was sure the bastard would grow all the more irritatingly persistent if he thought he had even half a chance. Best to dissuade him right then and there.

“A seducer type, then?” His remark was bland, exhibiting the expectation that he would be bored by this interaction. “Your ilk think they are ever so unique and inventive, but is spewing tried and true lines as if you are following a script supposed to be appealing?” His tone was utterly indifferent, so much so that his words barely registered as an insult.

However, he displayed a modicum of intrigue at the introduction, his mask tilting in a show of avian curiosity. “Hmm?” So, Cassius was going by ‘Lord Damien’ already. Maybe this was now an event in honour of his introduction to noble society, as if he were a lady attending a debutante. Wulfric smirked to himself at the humorous notion.

“Ah, you haven’t been informed yet,” there was a hint of amusement in his tone. Finally, the prince turned to face him directly, deigning to grace him with the full weight of his attention. “Allow me to rectify your ignorance. You are speaking to the crown prince, Prince Wulfric Danrose.” The raven’s beak tipped down as he offered a short nod of acknowledgement.

“I am feeling generous, so let me give you a piece of advice.” He considered the man as he twirled the wine glass between his fingers, and whether it was by skill or natural grace, the claws adorning his gloves left nary a scratch on the glassware, nor made so much as a metallic clink against the chalice. Entirely on instinct, he’d accounted for the potential damage his new accessory might cause, and prevented it with exquisite control.

He sipped at his drink before continuing, having no issues with the action despite his garb. “You should reserve your so-called charm,” the sneer in his tone indicated he didn’t think much of it, “for ladies.” A sigh followed as he took another sip. “This particular game you seem to favour is not one I choose to partake in. But you will find there are a plethora of players willing to indulge you.” He gestured with a hand to the ballroom, demonstrating the numerous other targets Cassius could pursue.

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

New post is up! Morganna one coming very zoon, and Vecta itself is joining the party as a 'collection' of characters. Haha.

@TheNoCoKid

Also, skills when ya can please!

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

On a more serious note;

Since we had a lot of free time inbetween the last IC post and these new ones, I spent some time creating an additional CS. Tried contrasting it to Minami's. If'n we dun get to have secondary characters, that's fine, I made this mostly 'cuz I was bored and had the time. If'n it does get approved, sweet. :)

---

Entitled Spoiled Brat

Real World

Tiffany Leicester

"Oh, I do NOT have time for this!"

Age: 19

Appearance: Tiffany was a lovely young woman with long, golden blonde hair, forest green eyes that sparkled and a nice, healthy year-around tan. She was fit, having a flat and taut stomach, toned and well-sculpted limbs but wasn't overly muscular, rather retaining an athletic yet femenine physique. As a girl who kept up with trends and fashion, her wardrobe consisted of a large variety of clothes and styles, too numerous to list. But rest assured that she was always dressed fashionable and stylish for the time and aseason, no matter what.

Job: Model

Cause of Death Hit by runaway Truck-kun during an outdoor photoshoot. Amazingly, nobody else was hurt.

Background: Tiffania, full name; Tiffania Rose Leicester, was born into a family in the United States of America, being the eldest of three siblings. Her younger brother was born five years after her, while her little sister was born ten years after her. The family was an upper middle-class one, with Tiffany's father being a lower-rank manager at his workplace, whereas her mother was a music tutor for the piano. As such, the young girl grew in an enviroment where she didn't really want for anything, in a developed country with no real lack or shortage of resources or services. Thus, she grew up in a mostly healthy enviroment, never knowing much in the way of hardships.

Tiffany's mother was a religious woman, who tried her best to instill her teachings and beliefs into her children. She succeeded, for the most part, with her two youngest, but Tiffany - for whatever reason - only really adopted some of her mother's beliefs, and often only in ways or when it was beneficial to the girl. This may have been because, growing up, Tiffany quickly learned the rules of the playground - if you weren't on top, you were either in the middle, or at the bottom, and she didn't care for the two latter options. That being said, she was never a truly cut-throat or unreasonable person, and she never actively or intentionally did things that would hurt or damage others. .. Unless they'd done something to her and thus deserved it.

Yes, Tifanny developed a very 'Do Onto Others'-sort of mentality, showing kindness, generosity and empathy towards those who did the same to her first. Those who didn't show respect or amiabble behavior though, were deemed to be human garbage in the young girl's eyes, faceless and unimportant. If you weren't willing to put in the effort to be nice and kind, then there was no reason to care about you or yours. Tiffany and her mother would often have disagreements over this mentality, which never got resolved or reconciled as both were far too stubborn to relent.

Despite this, Tiffany grew up to be a cute and popular girl. Her life in grade, middle school and junior high all went swwmingly smooth. She was blessed by being both clever and athletic, at least to some degree. Early in her high school years, Tiffany was scouted by a talent agency and was given a part-time job as a model. Following her graduation, she saw no need to pursue a college-degree and instead focused on her modelling career, which thankfully took off.

As a young woman, growing up in the western world, she was as much a product of her time and enviroment as anyone. She bouight expensive clothes, was almost always on her phone, had opionated opinions on matters and politics which she really didn't have much insight or understanding about and followed the trends and popular themes of the moment. She had her own Click Clock-account with no small number of followers and her status as a succesful up-and-coming model had earned her fame and reputation. While her relationship with her mother had grown more strained ever since she got into high school, her relation with her father had managed to stay positive and the two were always on good terms.

Her relation with her younger brother was a lot more complicated though - as the boy took after their mother in more ways than one. He was always trying to convince his big sister to choose another path and to be more mindful of her behavior and actions, and of course to be more respectful of their mother and The Lord. Needless to say, Tiffany didn't enjoy being preached to by a kid who hadn't even graduated high school yet, so fights were frequent. She and her younger sister got along fine however, with Tiffany often doting on and spoiling the youngest in their family. So, all in all, while there were bumps and snags, her life was for the most part a good one.

Unfortunately, Tiffany's life was cut tragically short as, during an outdoor photoshoot session in early summer, she was hit by a runaway truck that seemingly came out of nowhere.

Vecta Form

Tiffania

Appearance:

Race:

Deity: Morganna

Weapons/Tools:
- N/A

Likes:
- Fashion, accessories, shoes
- People who greet and treat her well
- Her father and little sister
- Being praised for doing a good job
- Soft drinks
- Pop music

Dislikes:
- Rude, obnoxious, unfriendly and/or apathetic people
- Anyone who tries to change her ways, or accuses her views to be "wrong"
- Her mother and younger brother
- Being disturbed or interupted while doing somehting
- Filthy places and creatures
- Metal/Rock music
- Public smoking

Quirks:
- She sometimes talks like a stereotypical 'valley girl', though she tries to avoid doing so.
- When she wakes up in the morning, she's extremely gullible and easy to deceive, as her brain is more less mush.
- She's rather shameless, having no problems with being seen in either skimpy outfits, swimsuits or even lingerie.
- She says 'Ew. Gross.' instead of 'Bless you' whenever someone near her sneezes.

Skills:
-

@Xaltwind

Whether this gets accepted or not, I'd be curious to see how your two characters interacted, I also think Kyouka meeting either or both of them would be interesting as you mentioned XD

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Kyouka was such a... pleasant... person, wasn't she? ^^;
It seems the Fox beat the Energy-drink though. _{[There's an energy drink over here called 'Gnocco')}

@Xaltwind

Hey, she had her moments XD

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Kyouka

Beep-beep. Beep-Beep! BEEP-BEEP!!

Drowsily, Kyouka got her phone to shut up.

A new day…

But why did it always feel the same?

Wake up, get washed, make breakfast, do chores while she still gave enough of a shit for it.

Her work would start in the evening, and she still had several hours until then.

As she often did when she had nothing better to do, she went out for a walk. She wandered the city, going by the river, crossing a bridge, and stopped somewhere with a decent view.

After an undetermined time of staring out into nowhere, she fetched a boba tea somewhere, and sipped on her drink while fiddling with her phone. She checked her social media, the news, and upcoming classical music events or competitions.

Yeah, so she had a schedule for where he would appear, so what? She smirked, and wondered if he was at home right now. Maybe she’d go see.

And so, she did. Standing on the other side of the street from his apartment building, she sent a short message.

Hey. You home?

Nothing.

A few minutes.

Still nothing.

She sighed. Fine, then, not today.

Well, whatever.

She was able to catch up with one of her friends for a quick coffee – but it really was quick, not even an hour.

Disappointed she’d not been able to see him instead, Kyouka visited her brother – unannounced.

Ring-ring. RING-RING.

“Yeah, yeah, coming!”

Ayato’s attempts at being polite – shoddy as they were – cut short when he saw her. “What the hell are you doing here.”

“What, can’t your sister come see her lonely little brother?” She gave him that smirk she knew drove him up the wall.

He grimaced. “What the hell, get lost,” he muttered. However, she weaseled her way in. They both knew she wouldn’t stick around for long, so as much as he was annoyed by it, he didn’t put up much of a fight.

“Sheesh, your place screams single guy, you know that, right?” She wrinkled her nose at the disarray, but she wasn’t about to go and touch any of it. Instead, she snagged a pillow and found a clean-ish place on the floor to sit on.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Ayato threw himself onto a floor sofa in front of his TV, and went onto gaming – and ignoring her.

“Still into that, huh?” She asked, as she watched idly. There was only a grunt for an answer. For some time after, there was only silence. Her brother was absorbed, she was bored.

“Hey. HEY!” She stretched a leg to kick his side.

That was enough to get his attention. “Ow, fuck,” he hissed. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just checking to see if you’re still alive there. Sooo...got any dates? Anyone you'd want one with?”

He was about to go back to his game, but facing the threat of more prodding from Kyouka, he gave in.

Ayato sighed, and paused his game. “Fine. I’ll give you your five minutes. But after that, you’re getting out of here.” He gave her that ‘I have enough of your shit’ look she was so familiar with. “Yeah, there’s some girls I’ve noticed. No, I haven’t really talked to any. The hell am I supposed to say to them, huh? ‘Hi, I game, please date me?’ Even if I find a gamer, that could have its own share of hassles, you know? And do you really think I care enough to do the whole ‘proper romance’ thing? I don’t have that kinda time to waste.”

Kyouka gave a pointed glance to his gaming setup.

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean. Now, shoo. Go back to stalking, or fucking old men, or whatever it is you do in your free time.”

This time, Kyouka was the one to get enraged. In quick fury, she grabbed the nearest object – an empty can of energy drink – and hurled it at him. Ayato dodged, just barely. “What the fuck??!”

“You know what,” she growled. They had a stare-off, but stubborn as they were, neither was going to relent. She exhaled quickly, still angry, and stood up. However, before leaving, she did say, “Later, you fucking nerd.”

“Don’t come here uninvited again!” he called after her. She slammed the door with a thud.

All in all, this visit had just served to aggravate her.

However, not all was bad. Moments after leaving, she got a message from him.

He’d sent her an address and time, asking if she could make it.

She sent him a quick confirmation, and made her way to the location he'd sent.

She managed to get there before him, and stood there, facing the winds, hands in the pockets of her coat.

“Hey.” That voice. “What’re you doing there looking all fierce, mm?” he said in that goadingly joking tone of his he had.

“F-fierce? Y-you’re not comparing me to something strange again, are you?” She suddenly felt warmth creep up her cheeks and knew she was blushing. Gods, why did she always act like this in front of him?

He smirked. “How d’ya know? C’mon, demoness.”

She gasped, but even as outrage blazed within her chest, she went up to him, and took up his arm as he silently offered to escort her.

He invited her out for a late lunch!

Kyouka was on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

In fact, she was so happy, she wasn’t as careful managing her alcohol intake at the club as she should have been. Her overseers did much of that for her, but still. She kept inviting customers to drink and chat with her, spending mindless hours in easy, casual, pointless conversations.

On her way home, she was past buzzed, but had decided to walk for some reason. To enjoy the evening, she’d said.

She was crossing a remote walkway high above. She didn’t notice the sectioned-off roadwork part in time. She stumbled into a glaring orange cone, and suddenly, the railing that had been supporting her was gone.

She fell.

Crack.

H-huh? Her thoughts were sluggish, and her body felt even number. For some reason, the sky was suddenly in front of her. W-what?

In her state, it took her some time to realize what had happened.

She tried to pick herself up, but she couldn’t quite move.

W-wait. No. NO!

She couldn’t be – couldn’t be dying, could she?

Sudden fear gripped her.

No, she didn’t want to go like this. She still had so many things to do!

God, what kind of universe was it to kill a beautiful maiden in love like her?

As life seeped from her, she felt various regrets.

She’d never get to figure out what it was that she’d wanted. Love? Passion? A purpose?

She hadn’t had enough of life, not even close. Sure, it was downright miserable at times. It felt like others had that ‘special something’ that she couldn’t quite get a grasp on.

Oh, and she just knew they’d say what a ‘waste’ her life had been. How she could have been ‘so much more’. Trying to decide how she should live even after her death.

Ha!

This, after being called a witch so many times? How often it was said that she was an evil devil of a beuty...

If she were some mystical creature, or had any powers like that, would she end up like this? No, she wouldn't.

Fuck. Dead because of a stupid accident.

And now they’d find her body all mangled and ugly, and cry over her pitiful state. Goddammit, she couldn’t fucking handle that.

Well, she’d not be around to see it. On account of being dead.

A-ah, so I’m dying before that terminal ill wife of his. What kind of luck is this?

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Also @SilverPaw I think you’re the only one who hasn’t done an intro post.

@TheNoCoKid

I knooow, I've been meaning to, haven't actually got around to writing it. Let's see if I can make it before you do your next update.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: The costume Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Night Location: Calbert Damien's Ballroom Mention(s): Interaction(s):

The cadence of his steps upon the neatly paved road was smooth and decisively firm. Yet, as he moved, the footfalls were barely heard. Rather, the quietude of the night was punctuated by subtly sinister sounds as he proceeded onwards.

The soft susurration of feathers brushing against each other, rustling faintly with the tiniest shifts of his body. They were conversing with the winds, the gentle caress of the evening breeze reciprocated by their indecipherable murmurs.

A short yet ominous scrape, as if an unseen blade were being sharpened. Was it ready to slice, tear, pierce?

A near silent clack of a scabbard, and a strangely metallic tap-tapping as he made one final check of his weapons.

The muffled rattling of chains as they swayed through the air, half-hidden within the outer layer of his attire. Here and there, a chain would faintly clang against another, or a pair would briefly twist into a serpentine embrace. If he felt particularly dramatic, he could unspool a couple to let them drag against the floor. He didn’t, but even so, one could easily imagine those long loose steel bonds trailing behind him.

There was a swoosh as his cloak was lifted by a stronger gust. For a moment, he seemed a mere hop away from taking to the sky, on the verge of a liftoff.

Though he gave the appearance of an ethereal shadow gliding by – perhaps he was treading upon the air rather than the earth? – he remained down below.

His was an image too dark to fully blend into the penumbral gloom. As he strode into lighter areas, illuminated by the moon, the stars, and the city lights, it was as if a void manifested, sucking in any glow attempting to suffuse it.

Yet, no mystical power was at work there, so his outline did in fact gain clarity and focus.

The phantom visage, revealed.

A magnificent raven, the costume so finely crafted it evoked the imagery of something far grander than a mere animal.

A large steel mask covered his face, narrow and elegant, the beak angling into a sleek downwards curve towards a razor-sharp point. Its dull gray surface gleamed in the moonlight, finely engraved lines spreading across its surface. The eyes were mere slits, but his sight was by no means hindered. Only when viewed in profile, could glimpses of skin – the jawline, chin, neck – be seen.

Attached to the back of the mask was a cascade of black feathers, obscuring his hair, and falling down to visually merge with his cloak. A long mantle stretched from nape to heel, enveloping him. Long strips of cloth and silk were sewn together, giving his whole form a slightly shaggy outline. Numerous feathers were stitched into it, so both from afar and upon closer inspection, his veil was thoroughly reminiscent of a bird’s plumage.

Underneath the cloak was a robe of dark grays and blacks, accentuated by tasteful touches of silver. While thicker steel chains were attached to the shroud, a few thin, lighter silver chains adorned the robe. It was a high-collared garment, as long as the cloak, yet it was only partially visible through his outer layer.

If he rose his arm, there would be more feathers still, wrapping his appendages to the wrists. His hands bore black leather gloves, tipped with sharp steel claws.

He was covered from head to toe, a majestic being ready to enter into the realms of lessers.

Or, as the case was, into Calber Damien’s mansion, to attend a masquerade.

A sense of unease spread at his approach. His was admittedly an imposing figure; the striking likeness of a creature which was attributed a variety of superstitions by cultures across the world. But it wasn’t only that. There was something effortlessly powerful about his very presence. It drew in gazes, which seemed to be compelled to linger.

As menacing as he was enthralling.

“W-who?” one guard stammered, then coughed awkwardly to hide his nervousness. There was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all. This was a public event, the walkway was well-lit, and all guests were welcome. Yes, yes, of course.

“Welcome, esteemed guest,” another greeted, poised and scripted. “May I please request to record your attendance?” He was handed a pen and a roll of parchment, which was opened at the last entries, a column of blank lines underneath.

A beat later, a tap of pen against paper. “Your name, please?”

How kind of the servant to repeat. Unseen beneath the mask, a smile alighted upon the guest's lips.

“Guess.”

Eyes widened, mouth opening a tad too wide. “O-oh, of course.” Now this, the recognition of his identity, did frazzle the previously unruffled employee. He was the sensible sort who gave more credence to titles than he did to myths, after all. “Please, be welcome,” he repeated with a bow, and motioned the prince inside.

His whimsical desire for mystique and dramatics appeased, Wulfric headed indoors.

Time to mingle.

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

@Digmata@TheMushroomLord@Expendable@SilverPaw@Kero No rush. Just a casual tap to make sure you're still with us.

@TheNoCoKid

Yah, of course. I'll see if I can post sometime during the weekend.

Avalia

Time: Morning Location: Port Vanarosa Mention(s): Tanithil @Lava Alckon, Amisra @Tae Interaction(s): Ismael @Th3King0fChaos Equipment Two short swords, two (concealed) daggers, two pistols, 465 amas.

The remaining bandits ran away with tails between their legs when they saw they were beat. Not without proclaiming that they’d ‘get them’. “You picked a losing fight. Idiots,” Arlen commented quietly. Well, if they were stupid enough to try this again, then he and his crew could kill them next time. Simple as that.

A part of him itched to strike, now, but with Amisra injured? It was for the best this way. “Take care of her,” he shouted to Tanithil. The dark elf secured the princess, and headed back to the ship. The captain, too, had business to take care of. So, it was just him and Ismael now. They’d have to be more careful, maybe, with just the two of them, and with this attack that had only been recently sprung on them.

Arlen rolled the dead fairy off the roof, and the body landed beneath with a thud. He also jumped down, but landed into a roll, expertly avoiding damage.

“Yeah, let’s check if these guys have anything worth taking on them. Then we can just go chuck ‘em into the sea. This place ain’t too fussy about killin'…I’m more worried about those who’ve left alive and now’ve got us marked. We should lay low, get what supplies we need, maybe check if those guys are known to have nasty connections.”

Then, out of nowhere, Arlen regained some of his cheery demeanour. “But hey, I can always show you ‘round town. Let’s see some better things than killin’ thugs, huh?”

Tldr

Agrees to loot the corpses and dispose of them. Suggests either finding out more about the thugs, or just having fun in the city while staying low and re-supplying.