Damycles
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Snagglepuss89
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Haytham took in the sight of the two as they spoke, certainly a contrast paired together. A one-word greeting, and a fifty word greeting, both punctuated with handshakes. He accepted them both at the same time, before switching hands and shaking them again, nodding along as the blonde-haired boy continued speaking. He sensed already that the arrivals this year would be far more interesting than his own class had been. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.
While he cocked an eyebrow at the sight of Brendan's mildly violent servant, the only thoughts that accompanied the sight were of his own terrifying caretaker. Hopefully the errand he sent her on would last for most of this opening ceremony, although too much of a delay spoke of bad news. Bad news that he was not looking forward to receiving. Still, though, those were worries for when the problem was in front of him. For now, these two were the only potential problem he needed to focus on.
"To those of the desert you are all northern lords, I may call you North-Western though if you prefer."
He finally replied, when Brendan had finished speaking. While he had grown up in an isolationist kingdom, he wasn't so clueless as to the geography of the empire. Although he supposed they had no way of knowing his own origins, aside from his appearance. He would have to get used to saying his own name today, though the fact that the dark haired boy did not offer his did not escape Haytham.
"Haytham Avion, pleased to meet the both of you."
He focused his attention then on the quiet one. The blonde-haired boy had no trouble whatsoever making conversation, but the other... Either had no interest or needed some help. The former, Haytham could do nothing about, the latter however was remediable. At least, potentially remediable.
"Blades and boredom are both horribly painful ways to die, however I myself think that cold would get me before either. Brendan says you are from even further north than he is, raven-haired prince? Is it cold enough there for this 'snow' I've heard about? I both look forward and fear experiencing it sometime for myself."
In
Olympus Academy: The School For the Demigods [High-Casual, Slice-of-Life Roleplay]
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
This weekend is also likely.
Success! At least apparently, which was a measure more than he usually found interacting at these sorts of things. Perhaps there was something to be said about putting the minimal effort into formalities, at least at this level of social interaction. Annoying as it was, he couldn't quite argue with results, assuming this wasn't just a fluke. Keeping in a sigh of resignation, he decided instead to enjoy the success and treated the girl to his largest grin yet. Perhaps this year would be easier than the previous one at the Conclave.
"I'm looking forward to knowing you too, there'll be plenty of time for it throughout our stay here, either fortunately or unfortunately. If you'd like..."
Haytham caught himself before the thought finished. Being too forward could certainly ruin any relatively good impression he'd managed to make so far. On the contrary, stopping where he did would only risk him looking a fool, which quite frankly was an opinion plenty of his peers already had of him. No real loss there, the results of his studies more than proved such an assumption dangerous, and he would rather be underestimated than overestimated. He looked between Aleandra and her guardian briefly, before resigning himself with a shrug and continuing.
"... I'm pretty eager for a new sparring partner, although forgive me if I'm reading you wrong. I'd be happy to have permission to fight with your retainer too, if not."
Lest she have time to become indignant or offended and cause a scene in case he had read her wrong, Haytham began turning away with a casual wave offered as a farewell.
"Just a thought. I'll look forward to an answer when things aren't so hectic!"
Haytham hummed to himself as he pulled away, making a note to track down the princess later. It would be nice to have someone to cross swords with outside of duels, an experience he had grown sick of over the past year. They were fun to him at first, win or lose, but he saw them as more and more petty each time. If not... Well, it didn't hurt to lose what one didn't have.
The sight of Nebetah from across the room interrupted his thoughts. Familiar faces were extraordinarily rare for him at the conclave, but the southern lords were all acquainted since the forming of The Three Sands. She had certainly grown in the years since they'd last met, and he almost bounded over to her before she walked out of the room, to his disappointment. He briefly entertained the thought of following her before rejecting the idea; there would be time for that later. Besides, the Haytham she would remember was different from the Haytham he was now.
Without a goal in mind he picked six new targets and drew his mystical helper from his pocket. It had done a splendid job of picking his first interaction of the day, and who was he to question the good judgement the goddess had blessed the instrument with? With practiced precision he cast it onto the ground once more and stopped it with his foot.
3 again.
Not a beautiful woman this time, but two boys by the look of it, with contrasting blonde and black hair. With a shrug, and embracing his fate, Haytham made his way over to the two, coming up behind the blonde haired one as he was speaking.
"I think it's more of a derogatory term the nobles came up for me. But I think it fits well. The common folk use it endearingly though so it's not that bad."
"Hah, the derogatory things I've heard from nobles' mouths in this place. It's good you're already accustomed Northern Prince."
Brendan Tromvara and Ezran Taake, provided Swift had been correct. Both princes, although Haytham didn't have any more info than that to go off of. Men had a tendency to jump to violence when offended than women did, so he had tried to avoid them in general, but the die of fate had been cast. May as well try to make the most of it. He was being even less formal than his interactions with Aleandra earlier, but that had all but exhausted his reserves for the day.
"I see you have both managed to survive the Grand Keeper's speech, there are few things in this world more dangerous. Death by boredom is a slow killer, to be certain."
He has a height advantage over Haytham, actually. Slightly.
HAYTHAM
"Your people? I don't think I've quite gotten that response before. My people are pleased by feeling protected and earning money. I can't say whether they'd care about my etiquette in comparison to that, but... different cultures, no? I have not had the pleasure of visiting Tromani lands in my life."
Haytham flicked his eyes to her guardian as she looked at the man, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Haytham himself was unarmed, and did not often let Ser Alexios accompany him to social events, so he had no fear of being mistaken for a threat. Still, like many of the other men tasked with guarding future monarchs, he looked very capable. Perhaps one day Haytham would be able to convince Aleandra to let them spar together, his sword hand twitched at the thought before he turned his eyes back to Aleandra. The second time she spoke seemed much more relaxed than the first, and he hoped that it was his influence allowing that. So few people refused to not be uptight at the Conclave.
"Formalities? No, I must have given you the wrong impression. People who attend this school love formalities more than they love life itself. It's really quite maddening."
He couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. Although he had come to this school partly to find future friends and allies, it seemed as if he was ten years too late. They would have adored the stiff boy he had started as, rather than the man he was growing into. As it was, he had never felt more out of place.
"As for this school; Perhaps I am biased. My family has long held a disdain of it, and I can find little love for the place from the other students here. You said you aimed to please your people? My people are the only reason I made the decision to come here, and remain the only reason I have not yet tried to work on an escape."
He paused then, blinking a couple times before letting out a second, chuckle. Here he was telling her to relax and not to worry while also talking about how much he hated the place she would be living for the next few years. Not exactly the most well-thought-out approach he'd ever taken in a conversation. While thinking of something to reassure her he took a moment to give the noblewoman a once-over. She certainly had put more effort into her appearance than he had for the day, although to put in less would be downright worrying levels of carelessness. His eyes lingered longest admiring the swordman's calluses on her hands- making note that her guardian might not be the only one to spar against as he hand twitched once more.
"You seem more ready than I was though, I'm sure you'll have an easier time of it. Hopefully we both leave here with the means to please our people."
He almost turned to walk away then, before catching himself. Aleandra Pridedane. He didn't care for formalities, but the two were hardly properly introduced at that moment. He loathed attaching his house name to himself at first meeting, but Swift had become annoying insistent that it was of vital importance when meeting other nobles. He did not feel like sitting through another lecture from the woman when she returned. For a moment, he pondered if extending a hand was breaking some kind of royal protocol, but it felt appropriate, and if he was being honest with himself he would have done it whether it was or wasn't.
"Sorry, I guess I have you at a disadvantage now. Haytham Avion, and the pleasure's mine."
HAYTHAM
"My lord, I cannot let you attend the ceremony dressed like a commoner."
"Come now, the material is far too rich to be a commoner's, besides what will it harm?"
Well, sure, he certainly looked rather plain. No jewery or baubles to speak of, and while the materials that his jacket and pants were made of cost far more than what the average person could afford, they completely lacked design or embroidery of any kind. With a frown he inspected himself again, and finding nothing wrong he took a step towards the door.
"My lord, I cannot allow you to get your way this time, there will be plenty of powerful people there you need to make an actual first impression on."
"Excuse me, Swift? I'm leaving. You shouldn't question my will you know."
"My lord, who has the most control over your everyday life and comfort this far away from home?"
With that Haytham paused and turned to face the woman, cocking his head at the thinly veiled threat. It was a threat, and he had to admire the woman's audacity even as he grew increasingly annoyed.
"Would you have taken that tone with my father?"
"Think on this: Do you recall your father gallivanting around doing what he pleased without any regards to his appearance? Why do you think that was, young prince?"
A chill ran through Haytham, and he decided wisely to reconsider his choice of garb for the day. There would be time eventually to reprimand the woman, at the moment though it was far too much of a hassle to disobey. If she truly had tamed his father like she claimed...
She was truly a terrifying woman.
*****
Still without jewelry, but sporting a much nicer jacket with the insignia of House Avion ( A desert falcon, perched on a sword pommel) Haytham at last made his way towards the opening ceremony. He had it in hid mind to miss the opening speech - the one the year before had gone on for ages- but the young prince feared for his life if that ever happened. Behind him, the prized maid of House Avion followed closely, and as if reading his thoughts flashed him a wordless, wicked smile. No, today he would not be getting his way.
With barely contained dread he took his place in the hall, and tuned out the old man while looking at the faces of the new arrivals. He knew... almost none of them, unsurprising given his family's lack of diplomacy the last few decades. Throughout the entirety of the long winded speech he muttered as quietly as possible to Swift next to him.
"And the blonde there?"
"With the curls? Kara, daughter to a powerful baron up north, although of little significance to the realm."
"No, the attractive one."
"Princess Aleandra, of House Pridedane. A candidate to inherit the Kingdom of Vespira. Out of your league dear prince."
"Just the necessary info please. The dark haired one over there next."
"Princess Rhelissa of House Fel. Heir to the Kingdom of Aladore. Also out of your league."
"Just shut up already!"
As the last words left his lips, so too did the speech at the other end of the room. Blissfully short this year, Haytham gave a prayer of thanks to the Goddess for her mercy. As idle chatter began filling the air, he turned to his maid one more time, speaking normally this time.
"I should remember all that, and I don't expect to be in any danger- physical or political- for the time being. Please find out if the situation with Baron Theodesus has been resolved peacefully yet in the meantime."
"My lord."
Now she listens to me.
As the woman departed, the feeling of freedom filled Haytham, and he wasted no time in starting to mingle with his peers. Briefly, he regarded Anareliea and considered making his way over to her. She had recently lost her father, and while the political implications were dire, the personal difficulty must be even more so. It was barely a year ago that he himself had gone through the same situation. Pain briefly gripped him, before he shoved it aside with a roll of his shoulders. It served no use, he would not allow himself to be gripped by it.
Before he could take a step towards the princess however her cousin -if Swift had been correct- stepped in and began a very public chat. Haytham reconsidered, and instead cast his eyes elsewhere around the room. There would be time to offer his condolences later, and while he personally didn't mind his own antics, trying anything too casual around the princess right now could be a public embarrassment for her. Unlike him, her succession was not secure, and he had barely enough tact to prevent harming her situation.
With a sigh he considered the other figures in the room- many powerful- and found himself struggling to pick one to approach. The last year he had breezed through every academic challenge presented to him, a perk of his lacking childhood, and earned the envy of many of his peers. This though? It was perhaps the first tough decision since arriving a year ago. With a sigh, he picked six of the most powerful figures in the room and erased their names from his mind. Instead, they became 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. Quickly, he pulled a die from his pocket and tossed it on the ground, stopping it with his foot before it bounced away.
3. Alrighty then. All good things came in 3's, right? Good sign so far. With haste, he snatched the die back up and made his way over to the blonde girl he had inquired about earlier.
3... 3... 3...
Crap! He shouldn't have wiped her name from his mind so soon. C'est la Vie, life was too short to worry about the details. With confidence that didn't betray his mind furiously scrambling for a name Haytham stepped in front of princess and gave a small bow, the last of the formalities he intended to use that day.
"So, first thoughts on the place? People here are stiffer than a board most days, almost like relaxing is a chore. Personally? I heard somewhere that stress kills, doesn't serve your people for you to die young, save for the one making a coffin. Try not to get too caught up in it all is what I'm saying."
A smile spread across his lips as he rambled, avoiding any mention of her name or status. They were at least of equal rank, in the end, perhaps she was even lower than him. Swift had said she was a candidate to inherit. In either case, he wasn't obligated to lick her boots or vice versa. Just the sort of situation he enjoyed.
His advice finished, and with a nod of approval at himself for helping an underclassman, he ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. Surely he couldn't be expected to memorize the face of every royal he'd never met. Him not knowing her name was practically natural. No need to try and hide it really. Details were rarely worth worrying over, and besides, he had a plan...
"Sorry, Haytham, I don't believe we've been introduced before, miss...?"
H A Y T H A M
APPEARANCE
PERSONALITY
"Either do it or don't, stop overthinking things so much."
[ ♚ ] N A M E
Prince Haytham Ionnes Avion of Ohanior
[ ♚ ] AGE
15
[ ♚ ] G E N D E R
Male
[ ♚ ] I D E N T I T Y
Hulevi
[ ♚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
With intelligent eyes and a warm smile, Haytham could probably be called handsome based on his personality alone. Still, with the dark hair and light tan common to his people, he could almost be called average in some respects. At 5'4", he's shorter than most Hulevi, but carries that height with confidence. Besides, there was still time left to grow into a giant... Right? Bags can also frequently be seen beneath his eyes, perhaps hints of stress he doesn't show on the surface.
Clothing wise he tends to wear a red jacket, red because of the colors of his house, and a jacket because he find the Conclave intolerably cold. While not too much farther north than his homeland, he never adapted to the change in climate, and still finds himself freezing even on warm days. Other than this, there aren't any particular outfits or styles he sticks to from day to day, mostly choosing whatever he fancies. This is wholly without regard to what is considered proper for the occasion.
Clothing wise he tends to wear a red jacket, red because of the colors of his house, and a jacket because he find the Conclave intolerably cold. While not too much farther north than his homeland, he never adapted to the change in climate, and still finds himself freezing even on warm days. Other than this, there aren't any particular outfits or styles he sticks to from day to day, mostly choosing whatever he fancies. This is wholly without regard to what is considered proper for the occasion.
[ ♚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
Laid back and personable, Haytham is surprisingly gregarious for a member of the famously withdrawn House Avion. He is at the same time dedicated to his duty, and completely unconcerned by it. Formalities are a chore, worrying accomplishes nothing, and duty is always simple. While his self-assurance in those three truths is often mistaken for indifference, those who know him are aware of the regency overseeing his homeland, and the real reason his is attending the Conclave is for his people. Ultimately, he is someone who will always do what needs to be done, and look utterly unconcerned doing it.
[ ♚ ] C H I L D H O O D
Haytham grew up the heir to House Avion, and with no siblings, aunts, or uncles, his inheritance was all but assured. The inevitability of his duty permeated his entire childhood, and his parents threw everything they had into their child. All their love, resources, and... expectations. Perhaps this over-saturation throughout his life is the reason for his fatal lack of concern in everything he does, but the true answer is a mystery.
House Avion have always been dedicated to keeping the Goddess's peace. Like a rock they have remained in their ancestral homes, never migrating to the heartlands, never wandering like their Phoeni cousins. They chose a space and remained there, fighting many wars over their rich lands. Never expanding, never shrinking, they welcomed the peace and were one of it's strongest advocates.
However, for several generations now there has been skepticism over the ability for the peace to last, and they have been growing increasingly withdrawn from the political landscape. Instead, focusing inwardly, preparing for the next era of conflict that they believe now to be inevitable. Haytham is the first member of the family to attend the Conclave in almost a century, and indeed had no plans to before the death of his father. Statecraft had become homeschooled by tradition, and something the Avion's prided themselves on.
This, above all is what filled Haytham's childhood. The very things that awaited him at the Conclave. His mother died in childbirth, and his father had always been sickly: there had never been time to waste in his education. He admitted, when he turned down the throne to attend to the Conclave, it was partly to experience the socializing and duty-free life he had missed out on as a child. In his place Ser Auric, his father's trusted friend and steward ruled as regent, trying to keep the country stable during the current power vacuum.
House Avion have always been dedicated to keeping the Goddess's peace. Like a rock they have remained in their ancestral homes, never migrating to the heartlands, never wandering like their Phoeni cousins. They chose a space and remained there, fighting many wars over their rich lands. Never expanding, never shrinking, they welcomed the peace and were one of it's strongest advocates.
However, for several generations now there has been skepticism over the ability for the peace to last, and they have been growing increasingly withdrawn from the political landscape. Instead, focusing inwardly, preparing for the next era of conflict that they believe now to be inevitable. Haytham is the first member of the family to attend the Conclave in almost a century, and indeed had no plans to before the death of his father. Statecraft had become homeschooled by tradition, and something the Avion's prided themselves on.
This, above all is what filled Haytham's childhood. The very things that awaited him at the Conclave. His mother died in childbirth, and his father had always been sickly: there had never been time to waste in his education. He admitted, when he turned down the throne to attend to the Conclave, it was partly to experience the socializing and duty-free life he had missed out on as a child. In his place Ser Auric, his father's trusted friend and steward ruled as regent, trying to keep the country stable during the current power vacuum.
[ ♚ ] M O T I V E S
While his upbringing has already afforded him more than a passing knowledge of statecraft, the death of his father has hastened a need to build connections with other rulers across the land. While he hopes to refine his abilities while at the conclave, his primary purpose is to assess the upcoming political situation with the soon-to-be monarchs, and ensure his homeland's future safety.
[ ♚ ] C R E D E N T I A L S
Diplomacy: While his personal motives would suggest it, along with his friendly personality, diplomacy is not one of Haythan's main focuses of study at the Conclave. His family has pursued a policy of increasing isolation overtime as they've seen the influence of the goddess waning, and have focused their efforts inward rather than outward.
Faith: A believer in the need for a united land under the goddess's command, it can't be said that Haytham lacks faith. Still, he also believes her power to be fading, and that preparation is needed if her divine peace ever ceased.
Intrigue: If Haytham is lacking in any area, it could certainly be considered this. While aware not everyone is trustworthy, he can't find it in himself to view others with suspicion.A naivety that will surely never come to bite him.
Magic: While Haytham holds a deep curiosity for magic, he doesn't consider it important enough to dedicate his time to compared to focusing on statecraft.
Martial: With his family's long held believe that the peace the land has enjoy cannot last, Haytham throws himself furiously into the studies of tactics and martial arts in order to be able to defend his Kingdom if that time ever truly comes. Training with a blade in his hand is perhaps the only time he can be described as serious.
Stewardship: Again, his family's growing policy of isolation has created a desire to make his state as self-sufficient as possible. Should war break out, a strong economy will be paramount to keeping the army strong, and dissuade any sharpened blades from trying to carve up his kingdom.
[ ♚ ] C O M P A N I O N S
Ser Alexios - The man who has taught Haytham swordplay his entire life. While the prince is dedicated to learning as many new techniques at the Conclave as possible, he remains the boy's favorite sparring partner.
Swift - If anyone knows her original name, they've never spoken it to Haytham. Approaching her forties, the woman has served his family all of her life as a servant, and is renowned for the speed at which she carries out her tasks. Is responsible for keeping Haytham in constant communication with his regent.
Swift - If anyone knows her original name, they've never spoken it to Haytham. Approaching her forties, the woman has served his family all of her life as a servant, and is renowned for the speed at which she carries out her tasks. Is responsible for keeping Haytham in constant communication with his regent.
[ ♚ ] R E L A T I O N S
Dunno!
Ten pages is easy but boring to write, I try to keep it easy to read for everyone. Moving over after a couple small edits.
First draft that we were discussing a little Gowi: Most people come to the Conclave because they were forced to, the rest came to learn. Haytham is the first in history who came to party. Sorta. Kinda. Not really.
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