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Got it, got it 👍
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I'm not selling my bin lol
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Amy
I don't know. It has my house number on it clear to see but apparently people still want to take it. My poor bin.
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02:33:11 the Yellow Pack
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Could it be sold for at least $100 though 🤔
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sadly, I need it for the days that the rubbish truck comes otherwise it would be locked up.
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ItÂ’s the most wanted bin in the neighborhood
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02:28:25 Cy, love
She's 86 hours and still not in labor
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I think payback was the perfect name to give this gal. With how long she's baking these pups they better turn out good.
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Welp she popped and I am not pleased to say that I am disappointed in her pups. I will be rebreeding 1 of my gals though so we we still are waiting on 2 then we will have another chance for 1 of my gals to throw me some good pups
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Forums > Roleplay > Literate
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Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 28, 2022 07:22 PM


Cereal

Darkseeker
 
Posts: 8952
#2782501
Give Award

ROLES INFO

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

The Devil Emperor

The Devil Emperor is the new ruler of the Kingdom of Medo. Yes, he started this whole mess of the kingdom, and no, he doesn't regret it. To him, he's doing what's right.

The Consort

The spouse of the Devil Emperor, but is more like a bronze trophy to him. They hate each other, which is understandable. Even though they don't get along, they will team up if someone's stepping out of line.

The Previous Heir

The child of the previous king before the Devil Emperor killed them. However, for whatever reason, the emperor decided to let the heir live, even though it might bite his ass in the future.

The Heir's Guard

They have complete loyalty to the emperor and keep the heir in line. The guard is a trusted ally to the emperor, and disrespecting them means disrespecting the emperor.

The Lover(s)

Since the emperor has no care for his consort, he enlisted two people to be his lovers: a man and a woman. They can originate from either town, as long as they're beautiful. They're not the same rank as consort-they still get respected.

Servants

Servants are people working in the castle. They are born to serve and nothing more. If they stand out of line, they'll get disciplined without remorse. Worse, the emperor will target their family.

Nobles

The new generation of nobles the emperor handpicked himself, but that doesn't mean he'll aid them. It's survival of the fittest, and the nobles may use every tactic to remain at the top. To him, this is a little game to watch and enjoy.

The Devil's Army

They're soldiers that followed the emperor's dreams and desire for something greater. They crave for a chance to have a title of their own. They enlisted into the army to help expand the Medo kingdom.

Warehouse Workers

They're inventors that have been in lockdown inside the Griffinaid Warehouse. They're not allowed to leave until there are enough weapons and armor to supply the devil's army. If one person breaks a rule, then everyone would get punished.

Commonfolk

They're average citizens of the Medo Kingdom. Their occupation and hometown vary.

SYMBOLS

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

⚫ = Neutral
🔴 = Resolution
🔵 = Supporter

ROLES

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

The Devil Emperor (1/1)

Tavarious Chernobog
Played by Cereal

The Consort (1/1)

Helene Deire'Tenir
Played by Kampa

The Previous Heir (1/1)

Theo Black
Played by Free-Claw12

The Heir's Guard (1/1)

Aziz Sarimurod Botir
Played by Overthink101

The Lover(s) (2/2)

Male Lover: Vesper Briar-Rose Sterling
Played by Spellbound

Female Lover: Neptune
Played by Covidic

Servants (0/4)

Open

Nobles (3/8)

Lilith Chernobog/Nadia Chernobog-Amery
Played by Cereal

Finley Neil Blake
Played by Overthink101

Hesperan Crestele
Played by Silkie

Open

The Devil's Army (2/5)

Abaddon
Played by Cereal

Apherious Chero
Played by Kampa

Open

Warehouse Workers (1/6)

Garvin
Played by Overthink101

Open

Commonfolk (Unlimited)

Open

Other Info

Name | Age | Gender | Role | Mentions:

FORUMS

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Sign-Ups
Discussion


Edited at June 28, 2022 07:36 PM by Cereal
Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 28, 2022 07:36 PM


Cereal

Darkseeker
 
Posts: 8952
#2782503
Give Award

Tavarious Chernobog | 20 | Male | Emperor

Mentions: Finley, Lilith, Vesper, Neptune, and Helene (ind.), and open

The room was perfect. It's dark, a very comfortable dark. It was peaceful-soothing to the person sleeping in his bed. Quiet, that's all Tavarious craves for after being emperor, and this is the only way he can get it. Everything was perfect for him, isolated in a dark and quiet room. No one can disturb him. Indeed, everything was perfect.

He could sleep for eternity. He could sleep forever in this place. No kingdom to rule. No feuds between lovers. No awkward conversation with the wife.

Until his door was pushed open, and in came the hurried footsteps of his servants. Tiredly and angrily, Tavarious's words left his lips, "Son of a bitch." It was faint where only he hears it, and the servants kept on.

Hurried footsteps filled the room. Their rambunctious noises are ruining the peace. Tavarious grabs one of his many pillows and smothers it against his tired face. If the assassins don't hurry up with their blasted job, a pillow might take it from them. He didn't move it while they were pulling the curtains open. The sudden flash does poorly on the man's poor eyes. Please, leave him in his chambers, where he desires to rest eternally.

"Uh, your majesty?" "Ughh," Tavarious responded with an annoyed and exhausted groan. "It's time for you to get up." "Mmmahaa." A moan of displeasure left him, saddened at the thought of getting out of bed. For a king, he acts like a child that doesn't want to go to school. "I don't wanna. Wake me up when I'm dead."

Yeah, that would be a hard thing to do. The servant that spoke to him is unsure what to say next, terrified that he would insult the man by mistake. "Your breakfast is getting cold."

"Bring it here then."

"You already know that you can't eat in your bed. You'll cover it with crumbs."

"Fine then, I'll just starve." The servants cast each other a look, and the servants working on his outfit didn't dare to speak up. However, the one that's been having this enjoyable conversation with the king spoke. "I'm sure the people want to see their king, your majesty." Tavarious wanted to say fuck the people, but Lilith would disapprove of his choice of words. Damn it, why did he agree to become king in the first place? He should've passed it on to Lilith. All of this should've been her problem.

What's the use of having an older sibling if you can't put your burdens onto them? "Lilith. You're blasted worthless."

"Uh, excuse me, your majesty?" The servant was confused about why he randomly mentioned his sister, especially on something unrelated to the current situation.

"Nevermind. All of you get out before I decide to kill you all." Not a moment too soon, Tavarious was left in his room alone. That's all he ever wanted, yet the servants keep messing it up. With great hesitation, he shuffles around in bed and removes the pillow from his face. His eyes of red stared at the ceiling, pondering every decision he did so far. Yes, most of them were terrible. Plans would fall onto Finley's and Lilith's shoulders. Tavarious can be wise as the others but to an extent.

He rolls onto his side, enjoying the empty spaces on his bed. Both spots of his bed would be with people. Ahem. Neptune or Vesper, but he decided to sleep alone tonight. Not to mention, Vesper has gotten sick again, so the two should keep each other's distance until he gets better. Which sucks, Vesper keeps him sane (at times), and the two are soulmates (in his head, they are). "Hmm," ideas running in his mind and hopefully ones that don't involve killing someone, "what should I give him? Something to bring him comfort?"

Books? No, Vesper has plenty.

Cookies? Anything from the local bakery? That wouldn't work. He needs to eat something healthier.

Ah, yes, he should send Vesper more arts and crafts supplies. He was running out and asked for some more.

Now, it's Neptune's turn. What the Hell does that woman want? Who is he kidding? That woman enjoys jewelry and make-up. Nothing more than those two main things. Thinking about her made a frown cross his face, upset that she was hiding her beautiful face with all that makeup. She was hiding something sinister, but he didn't mind it.

He finds her scarred face like a priceless artwork created by the heavens. Oh, dear. Does he have a scar fetish? That would be, um, disturbing.

Tavarious gets out of bed and goes over to his clothes for the day. The clothes were neatly placed on one of his lounge chairs. His fingers trace the silk, a frown on his face. The regular fabric feels a lot better than this, for whatever reason. He starts to undress, tossing his sleepwear on the floor. Tava stretches, his muscles flexing under his scarred skin. He grabs the pair of pants first. Slipping them on and starts fastening the laces. His bedroom door opens, and in comes another servant. The servant is a woman close to his age. He would yell at unwelcome guests to get out, but a wicked idea came into mind.

An idea that would make her heart flutter.

Tavarious smirked, and he turned around to face her. "You must've come in here for a reason," the female servant kept her eyes away from the man, "and I want to hear it from your pretty lips." He approaches her, and each step he takes makes the room heat up. Tavarious could hear her heart beating fast, and it humors him. He places his hand on her cheek, twirling his thumb over her cheekbone. "Are you denying your king an answer?" His voice was dangerously low. He could feel the woman tremble in the palm of his hands, and Tavarious was holding back laughter.

"I-ah," her words spilled out messily, and her cheeks were a bright red. She was trying to get proper sentences in, but she was failing terribly. The man's red eyes gleam-his smirk shifts into a smile of pleasure. "What's wrong, my little rabbit? Fox got your neck?" He leaned forward and bit her on the neck. The poor servant squealed in surprise. The king pulls away, laughter leaving him, and he returns to his clothes on the chair. Putting on his undershirt, he shifts his crimson eyes to the servant, who's frozen in place.

"Want to help me put my vest on? I promise I won't bite you." His voice filled with lies, but the woman was lost in her imagination to catch onto it.

She shuffles over, grabs his vest, and helps him put it on. She tightened the strings to his vest, giving one hard tug. A breath of air forced its way out of Tavarious's nose, "Easy, now, rabbit, this isn't the kind of roughen I enjoy doing." The man's tone was flirty, basically his regular tone. "Hmm, if you're so eager. We can skip the day and spend time together. You and me alone? Doesn't that sound lovely?"

Now, he caught her choking, and the servant was panicking. "Your lovers will kill me!?! What about your wife?!? What-." That's when Tavarious spaced out, staring blankly ahead while the woman panicked behind him.

That's an affirmative, the lovers might kill her, but that would be her problem. Not his.

She helped him get ready-the process taking only a few minutes tops. Tavarious fixes his outfit to neat it up and turns to face her. "You're dismissed." Why should he thank a servant for doing her job? There's no reason for it. Without waiting for another response, Tavarious left his room and stormed down the halls to the throne room.

The throne room is what he dreads immensely. All there involved is talking and complaining about problems. He does love his people. Over time, he loathed the responsibility, but he endured it for the sake of his people. He's doing it to provide a better lifestyle for everyone.

Everyone except for his wife. That woman is worse than him, and that's saying something.

The servants from before approached him. They started to talk over someone who was speaking. Yes, the servants are annoying Tavarious, as he wanted to snap at them. Worse, he wants to kill every single one of them. "Didn't I tell all of you to piss off? I'm not in the mood to speak with rodents." His snaps, at last, the servants moving away from him with their heads lowered. They stopped following him and gave him a bow as he distanced himself away.

Shoving the doors to the throne room-he approaches his throne and takes a seat. Leaning back comfortably on his throne, "Fetch me a bottle of wine and food." Eating on the throne is considered taboo. However, the king didn't believe in stuff like that. No one dared to speak out about this behavior. Someone left to retrieve the items he asked, as refusing to give him what he wanted could get you killed.


Edited at June 29, 2022 02:03 PM by Cereal
Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 28, 2022 09:22 PM


Former Pack

Neutral
 
Posts: 0
#2782537
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Theo Black // 18 // Male // Previous Heir // Mentions: Open
.
+Light brown hair blows in the wind as harsh breaths can be heard from a small frame of a male. Located in a open feild mountains raging strong all around, lying in front of the male a torn and banged up dummie made is straw, wood, and string. A beautiful silver and gold knife clenched tightly in the males left hand, eyes closed tightly as he tries to get his breath back. Shaking his head a little he finally opens his green eyes looking at the mess he made of the straw dummie in front of him+
.
"Great I need a new one already....I've been out here awhile, but it's better then being at the palace"
.
+Brining the knife closer to his face he scans it looking for any chips or breaks, satisfaction crossed his face when the knife remain intact. Strapping the knife back to his side he moves the strands of hair in front of his face behind his ear. Gaze soon lifting and looking at the beautiful view of the open feild he stood on, a lake running right though it as livestock grazed on it. The grass a shinning green with small drops of dew on it from last night's mist. Lifting his hands above his head he reaches up towards the sky his gaze following+
.
"So bright and beautiful...what I would give to fly up there and away from being a prince"
.
+Bringing his hand back to his side he sits down softly still looking at the clear sky above him with a smile on his face the soft but cool breeze blowing his hair around. Closing his eyes after awhile he lets the breeze cross his face enjoying the sun on his skin, a light tan might be nice. Many thoughts runs though the males brain and he lets out a sigh, his schedule was packed today he just knew it. Training was the only way he could escape that, the annoying people trying to make him do all sorts of things he didn't want to do+
.
+Laying down on his back he lets out a huff of frustration bringing one of his arms up and lays it across his eyes. His breathing now back to normal but his heart was racing, from what...well that's too many things to name. Waiting here will be fine someone will come looking for him eventually and drag him back to the castle. Removing his arm he looks back up to he sky above, making shapes out of the clouds the walked across the sky. Rolling his eyes he felt like a child but he liked it his birthday was soon, as if anyone would know+
.
"Curse the human race and curse the world!"
.
+His voice rang out a short distance across the feild he layed on, a smirk finding his face when he shouts that. Closing his eyes once again he grumbles, maybe walking around the town would be interesting later. Right now he wanted to lay down and think about absolutely nothing+
Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 29, 2022 12:49 AM


Former Pack

Neutral
 
Posts: 0
#2782593
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Hesperan Crestele/ 21 / Male / Noble / Neutral

Mentions:Possibly Lilith.

<|||||>

edit: scrapped. That was so bad. Lmao. Didn't scream Hesperan at all.

wip. I will finish when I wake up tomorrow. :')


Edited at June 29, 2022 01:08 AM by Silkie
Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 29, 2022 12:54 PM


Former Pack

Neutral
 
Posts: 0
#2782667
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Helene Deire’Tenir

21 :: Feminine :: Consort :: Mentions: Abaddon, Tavarious [ind] Open

Helene tossed on her side, kicking a blanket free from her body with one leg as she curled her knees into herself. She could hear some form of mumbling, but the words were incoherent. All her mind could focus on was the heat that hugged her body. She felt a finger tap on her bare shoulder, but she shrugged it off and shoved herself deeper into one of the pillows. She inhaled the scent of the silk beneath her nose, which was oddly foreign to her. Usually, fur didn’t smell like this. Nor feel like this. Helene was too tired to dig deeper on the topic as she drifted in and out of sleeping cycles.

Another tap on her shoulder resulted in a fatigued groan that emitted from her lips.

Alas, the third tap made her drearily turn her head to the source. There was a blonde blur with a round face, and Helene struggled to make out the form with her tired eyes.

Shoo Lev~ I need my beauty sleep,” She grumbled, turning back over.

Only then, could she hear the words that the women in her room were speaking. The voices made their way to Helene’s ears, and they were nothing like Levey’s. More aware of her situation now, Helene blinked. The room was piercingly bright. The balcony that connected to her chambers had its doors strung open, letting in a warm breeze along with a blinding light. The more Helene strained her eyes to stare at the brightness, the more awake she became.

“I’ve been trying for an hour! It’s your turn!”

“No, she slapped me the time I tried to wake her!”

“Cope with it, I give up.”

The hushed conversation between a couple of maids faded into the background as Helene stared at the balcony. She was awake, now. Though, she wishes she could go back to sleep and fall into a dream. Fall into the cold landscapes of her home, fall into a place where her family was.

A place far from this one.

The maid whom she mistook for her younger sister was now peaking around the corner of her bed, watching Helene with wary eyes. When Helene dragged her stare from the balcony to the maid, she could see the woman flinch, as if startled that Helene acknowledged her.

Did I really slap one of them? I don’t even remember.

The maid at Helene's bedside started to grow more confident, and eventually spoke up.

“Do y-you want me to close the windows to the-“

“No.” Helene hastily interrupted. “Keep them open.”

Even though the winds that the Empire carried felt wrong to her, at least they cooled her down- somewhat.

Now that she thought about it, she keenly remembered opening the balcony herself. Falling asleep there, even. It was late into the night when she did so.

She definitely fell asleep outside. Did one of the maids carry her to her bed? Did she sleepwalk? I don’t sleepwalk, Levey would’ve told me if I did. Hells, she never falters when she tells me all about the times I talk in my sleep.

Thinking of her sister made a lump rise in her throat. Trying to swallow that lump made a burning sensation travel down her throat. Helene cleared her throat, refusing to think of her family, of her home.

The Empire is your home now.

Helene glanced back at the maid, who was waiting for Helene to get up.

Be honest, how heavy was I?”

Helene tried to joke around, but the maid looked confused.

“What do you mean?” They tilted their head.

“Were you not the one who took me to my bed?” Helene began to sit up, begrudgingly. She really didn’t want to prepare for the day, but she knew that she couldn't just stay in bed. She let out a small stretch and carried her hand up to her face to shield a yawn.

“When we came in you were already in bed, your highness,”

Odd.

Well, if her maids didn't think she was crazy, they probably did now.

“Nevermind,” Helene physically waved off the idea, which the maid seemed to take as a dismissal maneuver. Helene was quick to correct herself when the maid began to depart, making their way to the exit.

Wait, stay.” The words sounded desperate.

“I mean- I need to get ready for the day,” Helene stated, which had the maid nodding in agreement. She didn't want the maid to think she was desperate for attention. Helene would never stoop low enough to beg for someone to give her attention. Especially a servant. Within moments, the maid had ordered another pair of servants to scour the wardrobe.

“Anything in particular that you’d like to wear, your highness?” The maid asked, her voice was delicate yet not timid. She didn’t seem to fear Helene much.

Preferably pelts, but it’s too damn hot to wear those here.

“Surprise me,” Helene’s tone was on the edge of sarcastic. Why even ask her what she wanted to wear? They always put her in the same old red and gold attire. Helene looked toward the mirror at her bedside and was rightfully disturbed at her appearance.

At least she had her bathrobe on and wasn't completely in the nude. Usually, nights she doesn’t remember tend to end up like that.

Her pale hair wasn’t tied into an elegant braid like it usually was whenever she'd head to bed. Instead, it hugged her cheeks and frizzed out in every direction, making Helene look like she was electricuted.

“Gods, I look like a creature of the night,” Helene picked a stubborn lock of her from her face and brushed back the rest of her straying hairs with her index finger. As she attempted to fix her appearance, more memories of what she did last night started to come back to her. She remembered bathing and going through multiple bottles of wine.

Helene flung a hand to her head, which started to ache. She let out a muffled groan in defiance of the pain. She had foolishly hoped that she’d be free of the whole hangover part, but not even she could avoid such things. Helene practically flopped out of her bed, placing a hand on her desk to help stabilize herself. As she did so, her fingers grazed a few empty bottles, which rattled against each other because of the sudden movement. The rattling caught her attention, and she couldn't help but count the bottles of wine, which were drained of any liquid. Yikes.

“We disposed of the rest,” The maid noted, and Helene turned her attention from the bottles to the fabric the woman was holding. In the maid's small, tan hands lay a red gown. One that Helene has gotten far too familiar with.

As if reading Helene’s mind, the maid answered her unspoken question, “When you received your letters last night you ordered everyone out of your chambers. You told us not to disturb you.

When we heard you filling the bath yourself, we knocked but didn’t get any answer. The only communication you gave us was to bring more wine. And the only one who was allowed to enter was one of the servants, who cleaned up the glass.

None of us were allowed in your room after that, so I can’t say anything to qualm your confusion, your highness.”

Gods, that’s embarrassing. Helene looked toward another desk, which had three letters neatly bound, though they had obviously been opened, given that the red waxed emblems of her tribe were broken.

“Did you read them?” Helene, who had now gathered her balance, made her way to the letters. The maid uncomfortably cleared their throat at her question.

“They… They were splayed open when I came in. I didn’t want others eavesdropping on your…” The maid struggled to find the words. “Business.”

Helene raised a brow, picking up one of the smallest letters. Little droplets of liquid had discolored the beige paper. If she recalled correctly, this was Levey's letter. Helene cleared her throat, knowing all too well how pathetic she got last night. She didn’t have to remember it, the state of the letters was proof enough.

“Did you…”

“Uhm- well, I was taught how to read a little bit, but I swear I didn’t read more than just a quick glance could offer. Please forgive me, I d-didn’t want to, my brain just registered some of the words on their own and-“

The maid began to speak frantically, and Helene could sense the fear the more she went on.

“It’s alright. Thank you for conserving them- and wrapping them up before the others came in.” Helene spoke softly, her hand tracing over the paper. The maid grew quiet, perhaps contemplating Helene’s gratefulness. Was the maid ever thanked for her considerate deeds? Given the silence in the room, Helene supposed not.

Helene grabbed the rim of a chair and pulled it out before sitting in it. In front of her sat a mirror with a chestnut-colored table below it, which was adorned with jewels and trinkets, all for Helene. A gold-embroidered brush sat idly beside one of the bigger jewels before being plucked by the maid and raked through Helene’s tangled mess of hair.

It didn’t take long for the maid to elegantly tie Helene’s mounds of hair into a pale crown of braids that was tied at her temple. Within moments, Helene felt the cold, gold necklaces and jewels being clipped into place. The earrings were on the heavier side and didn’t help the headache that pounded in the back of her head. She felt the urge to stop the maid from hooking on the golden chocker but did nothing to stop the action. She always felt uncomfortably restricted with it on, yet never voiced her opinion on it.

Time flew by as Helene was lost in thought, and before she knew it, she was entirely dressed. The red gown hugged her torso, and the frills on the end were gently picked up by a sudden breeze that swooped through the balcony. The breeze was warm. Too warm. It made Helene feel sick.

"Bring me my letters," Helene ordered, and within moments, the three letters were placed in front of her.

"Would you like some tea, your highness? ... Perhaps ginger-lemon?" The maid offered. Was Helene's headache that obvious?

Helene nodded as she reached for the notes. She may have already read them, but her memory of their words was vague. She gathered the letters in her hands and began to uncurl one. She immediately recognized the elegant curl of lettering to belong to Bellavida's hands.

Dear Sister, the North misses you, as do I.

As I write this letter, your favorite colors dance in the sky and illuminate our lands. They should provide our messengers with a quick delivery, which I'm grateful for.

I know I don't have to worry for you.

The tribe has told me many of their doubts, which I've been silencing.

Father and I keep telling them that the Empire will get better with you in their court, which I have no doubt about.

The letter continued on about the ordeals Ella had to endure, which made Helene crack a smile. Ella always confided in her and ranted to her about everything. It was nice to see that she carried that habit on through the letter.

Even though Levey wrote her own letter, she's still hovering over mine and begging to write her own portion.

It seems you can't escape her love, no matter how far you are.

From The Ashes,

Bellavida Deire Tenir.

P.S You better read mine last! You know, save the best for last and all that stuff, since I'm obviously your favorite sister - Levey

Helene let out a half-hearted chuckle. The noise felt foreign to her.

The next letter was unmistakably from her father. There was nothing but formality written in, but Helene got his message. To the naked eye, it might seem like he wrote about typical matters, but years of knowing how to read her father's blank emotions allowed Helene to read his message entirely different.

Don't linger in the past. That was his message, which was adorned by fluff. He knew that Helene would feel a grudge against him, against everyone involved in her betrothal. If she was face to face with her father right now, they'd probably be arguing about it.

Helene's attention was brought back to reality when a small clatter sounded beside her. The tea. Along with a couple of pastries that she guessed was the Empire's idea of breakfast. She looped her hands around the tea and took a sip before unrolling the last letter. The discolored letter.

Though some of the ink mended with liquid, Helene could still make out the words.

I can't believe you didn't take me with you!

To leave your favorite sister at home? Do you want me to die of boredom?

Wynson is being a stubborn cunt and won't write to you, no matter how much I nag him. But, you probably already know how childish he can be. Hell, he holds grudges longer than you, which seems impossible.

Anyway, you wouldn't believe the day I've had.

As the letter went on an overly detailed and informal rant, Helene could imagine the voice behind it. A chorus of youthful tones, connecting to pale lips and beige skin. Within moments, Helene was imagining Levey sitting on her desk, kicking her legs out in the air, full of dramatizing expressions as she went on about the boys in her life.

A smile tugged on Helene's lips, yet quickly faded when she got near the end of the letter, which had the most writing out of the three.

I wish I was there with you, in the Empire. Just so I can keep your husband in check. Don't worry, when I visit, I won't be as harsh as Wyn.

OK, maybe a small, teeny-tiny kick to the groin for taking you away from me.

Anyway, make sure you don't forget about writing back to me, your favorite sister, if I didn't stress that enough.

Much love,

Levey

A small heart was drawn next to her beautifully curved name, her words were so full of life, just like her baby blue eyes. Helene could feel her eyes start to burn, so to combat the sorrow with distraction, she drank more tea. Though, one could describe it as inhaling since she downed the entire cup in one go. The heat from the tea burned her tongue, which made her release a hiss. The pain was a good distraction.

After stuffing the pastries in her mouth, Helene stood up, swiftly being hit by a breeze that violently ran through the open windows. Her attention stayed on the balcony for a little bit.

Last night, after her bath, she came to the balcony to feel the prick of cold biting at her skin. The only way she could be reminded of the skin-biting winds of her home was by getting her skin wet. She wished she could feel what she felt last night. She wished for that little bit of nostalgia, that numbness, that buzz, the cold.

“The Empire awaits, your highness,” The maid said, pulling Helene from her trance.

“Get rid of the letters and bring me a fresh sheet of paper. I’ll be sending my replies to the Ash Tribe later today, make sure everything is prepared by the time I’m back.” Helene ordered, and the maid submissively nodded before slipping out of the room with such practiced quietness that Helene nearly didn't notice their absence.

Helene made her way to the door which lead out to the concrete corridors, something she felt like she’d never get used to. Everything was so much different. Instead of thick fabricated caravans, everything was solid. Instead of hearing the whistle of blizzard winds and their howling chorus, it was silent. Here in the empire, everything felt still. Even if servants were rushing about, or soldiers were sparring in the courtyard. Helene would probably be able to stand being in the empire if Tavarious hadn’t caged her into his specified areas.

The thought of Tavarious made Helene curl her fingers into a fist, which resulted in her knuckles going white. The clacking of her heels smacking against the floor grew quicker as she regained her collected and speedy gait. The doors in front of her opened, revealing warm halls. Halls that Helene had walked through every morning, afternoon, and evening for 2 months now.

Helene regained her posture, tipped her chin upward, knotted her fingers together in front of her stomach, and quickened her pace. A few servants tailed her, nearly jogging to keep up with her long strides. It didn’t help that they were particularly short compared to Helene's stature.

While Helene made her way down the halls that she had memorized upon arrival, she felt as though she was missing something. Some one. She looked to her side, which was lacking a tall, pale figure. Abaddon. She wouldn’t bother seeking him out, her personal guard always finds a way to her. She learned that the hard way whenever she tried to lose Abaddon when he was first assigned to guard her. Even when she thought she lost the guy for sure, he'd always appear out of thin air.

The sound of her heels was muffled out as Helene glanced out a couple of windows, which allowed rays of light to spill into the castle. She always ordered the servants to close the drapes on the windows that were around her chambers- specifically to keep the heat out. Someone must’ve opened them anyway.

When Helene passed the window, the light burned into her pale skin. A native to the empire might’ve found this feeling relieving, but to Helene, it was simply uncomfortable. The Empire’s temperatures were hot compared to what she was used to.

When she was allowed to go for strolls outside, her skin easily burned. Helene has managed to get used to it somewhat, but she usually carries a parasol to keep the sun off of her vulnerable skin whenever she goes outside.

Ah. I forgot my parasol.

Helene didn't bother asking one of the servants to fetch it as she began to think about her horse. One of the only things that reminded her of home in this damned land. The pony always had such a thick layer of fur on him, but he has recently been shedding that fur like his life depends on it. Technically, in a way, it does.

Helene tilted her head slightly, listening to the footsteps behind her. She counted three separate gaits. All were servants that followed given their strides.

“Prepare Balade for a ride,” Helene ordered, and one of the servants jogged ahead of her to relay the message to the stablehands. The other two quickened the pace to keep up with Helene.

As she made her way deeper into the castle, she couldn't help but notice the wandering eyes of a few nobles and servants that she passed by. The incoherent whispering. The judging eyes. In her tribe, nobody looked at her like that. Her people always carried respect and admiration for her, so the looks of the people here were something that Helene wasn't used to. Perhaps she should reprimand them, but then she'd just be labeled as an authority abusing bitch. After all, she'd just be throwing a tantrum and going off of her own insecurities to the public eye.

For now, the best political choice was to ignore them. They underestimate her, which she can use to her advantage.

Let them think they can control me. It'll make it easier to pry my way into their heads.


Edited at June 29, 2022 12:56 PM by Kämpa
Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 29, 2022 02:05 PM


Cereal

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Abaddon | 22 | Male | Devil's Army/Consort's Bodyguard

Mentions: Helene (dir.) Tavarious (ind.), and open

Training is Abaddon's pastime while the consort's busy, and he takes this seriously. He was helping a recruit with his training and harshly judging the clumsy fool internally. He raised his blade at the right time. He blocks the trainee's attack and reflects it. The tip of Abaddon's dulled sword digs into the man's hand holding the sword. He removes the trainee's fingers from the grip with one swift motion, causing the blade to drop to the ground.

"Pathetic. You fell for a simple trick."

His words cut deep into the recruit's heart, and fury rages in the other man's eyes. "You're the pathetic one here! Stupid dog!" Indeed, the man has fucked up, and Abaddon's demeanor changed in a second.

The taller man grabs the other by the throat and lifts him. Squeezing his neck while locking eyes with the recruit. "Say that again, you cur." He slams the man onto the ground with one swift motion and starts to choke him. The recruit was gasping for air, clawing at his hands to let go. Abaddon wasn't bothered by the man's scratching his hand. What's bothering Abaddon was the insult this low-life dared to spew insults at him.

"What was that? I can't hear you behind the sounds of you desperately begging for air." He grins, enjoying the scene in front of him, and he gives his throat one quick squeeze. He kept his hand there for a couple of seconds before letting go, and he kicked the recruit in the ribs twice.

"Remember the hierarchy, boy. No one will save you, let alone care if I were to kill you." Abaddon spat, spit flying onto the man's face, and he storms off. None of the other soldiers bothered to check on the recruit, muttering how he deserved it. The army life was cruel, but compared to before, it's better.

That, and everyone was afraid to approach Abaddon. Not because of his looks but his unpredictable nature.

He's an animal, and he knows it.

Abaddon goes back to his room in the barracks. He wants to put on his gear and return to Helene's side. Oddly, the foreign woman can calm him from his uncontrollable rage. Maybe Tavarious wanted him to kill Helene, but it ended up failing. Or the king knew the effects Helene would have on him. Whatever the case, the two get along well, even though everything about them is the opposite. The two balance each other: Helene represents light, and Abaddon the darkness of human nature.

Beauty and the Beast are what they are. It tastes nice on his tongue.

Now, where to find his Ice Queen? Knowing her, she's probably around her royal chambers. Once everything is on and fitted on his body perfectly, Abaddon leaves to find the consort. Everyone stayed away from him due to the incident at the training grounds, which was a good thing. Abaddon is still in a bad mood, and his hand is eager to chokeslam someone else. Hmm, has he ever chokeslam a royal? It depends if he ever crosses paths with Tavarious.

Tavarious wouldn't be bothered: the man would use dirty tricks of his own. His trick is to stab Abaddon in the ribs while being choked, and yes, Abaddon would find it hilarious. Never mind the childish king. He's on his way to meet with his consort. Yes, the consort was his, but they see each other as allies in a place that judges them. Before she came, everyone looked at him like he wasn't supposed to exist, and in truth, Abaddon felt the same way about himself. He was a monster in not just the eyes of people around him, but that's how he viewed himself.

Yes, he was a monster, but the monster's calm, for now. As long as Helene is around, everything should be fine.

Was it an obsession? Yes, but it's not as bad. He's afraid of losing someone close. He's scared of losing her, like what happened between him and his brother. Ugh, remembering the past is shit. Everything about it was shit.

Abaddon's lost in his thought. Too focused on his daydreaming to notice that he arrived at Helene's bedroom door. He shakes his head, a tired groan leaving him. He knocks on the door. Patiently, waiting for a come-in from his lady. His bottled excitement grew to concern quick when he heard nothing on the other side.

He barges into the room, only to find it empty and her parasol still there. That's not normal. She takes her umbrella everywhere when she leaves. Abaddon grabs it while trying to ignore his trembling hands. No, there's no reason to panic. No! He's not panicking! You're panicking! She's fine. She probably went out for a stroll. Yes, that could be the case. Everything is fine once he sees her again. Abaddon left her room and closed her door before dashing off to search for her. His eyes turn to the window, noticing a murder of crows fly outside the windows.

That's how he always figures out where Helene is, and crows are considered bad luck to the people of Medo. He doesn't understand why they gain such hatred from the locals. He finds the birds are more reliable than most humans. Hell. They're good allies to have and wise enough to recognize faces. Abaddon was following the crows, seeming to get their friend's desperation. With each second, Abaddon's panic increases as he wanders deeper through the castle's halls. No sight of Helene, and people won't care that she's gone missing.

The bastards. Was he the only one that cared about her safety?

His vision was getting blurry, and his heart was aching. Poor Abaddon, going through his little panic attack when he doesn't see his Snow Flower. The noises around him are faded, and it's driving him crazy. Finally, he spots the familiar hair color: the pale blonde that reminds him of the sunlight.

Helene Deire'Tenir.

The man's panic went away, and so did the murder of crows outside the window. They likely went off to settle themselves down somewhere. Abaddon approaches her from behind. He gently sets his hand on her lower back after clearing his throat to alert his presence. "Your highness," his tone was polite and full of warmth. His anger and fear beforehand get drowned in joy.

That's when he spots something, and it involves her skin. The sun was tanning her-making her pale skin a reddish color. Abaddon holds her parasol between his arm and side, starting to remove his cloak from around his shoulders. The man sets it around her shoulders to protect her skin from further damage. The man grabs the handle of the parasol and opens it up. "Here, please allow me to hold your parasol for you, your highness." Abaddon holds her parasol over her head, walking closely beside her and keeping pace with the consort.

"I apologize for being late. I was training a recruit, and badmouthed me at the end." His face turned into a grimace. It went away in seconds when he gazed upon Helene. "Ah, don't mind my bad attitude. I'm sorry if it ruined your mood."


Edited at June 29, 2022 06:23 PM by Cereal
Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 29, 2022 03:27 PM


Spellbound

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Vesper | 20 | Male | Male Lover

Mentions: Cherry (dir.) , Tavarius (ind.)

A young man groaned as he lay in his bed. The warmth of the sheets comforting his chilled skin. It was odd - the young man wasn't used to being chilly in bed even with the covers on. He quite enjoyed being cool now and then, but this wasn't one of those times. He could feel himself slowly drifting back to the lull of sleep. However, soft and gentle voices of maids roaming around his room caused him some irritation. Their sounds and movements were louder and noiser than usual. A small grumble of annoyance escaped his lips as he slid under his sheets to deafen the noise outside. He just wanted to sleep and his resting time was being interrupted and that was annoying. The maids to their credits were being quieter after they saw him retreat into his sheets - it sounded like they were preparing a bath and preparing his breakfast for the morning. He decided to poke his head out from the sheets to see what was being brought for him to eat for breakfast - however someone had decided fo open the curtains on the balcony and his vision was blurred by the sunshine.

Fuck you, damned sunshine. What's so good about today that you're so bright as fuck. He inwardly groaned as he squinted at the damning rays of light. His face must've conveyed such displeasure and rage at the sight of the light, because he saw a maid rush over to close the shades. With a soft plop be curled back up in the bed - content that the sun was being fought off.

"Your Grace..." Came a soft feminine voice, one of the younger maids, Calypso, was it - she was quite a sweetheart. He didn't feel like yelling at a maid today.

"Mngh.." was his only annoyed reply, he could see the brunette give him a worried look, before going to get an older blonde maid. Now, this maid was a senior maid - one that one old enough to be his mother.

"Young Master. It's time for you to get up, I know you're not feeling well, but laying in your bed all day won't help." He heard her softly scolding him, and he felt bad for causing them such trouble - after all they shouldn't have to be so focused on him and get yelled at later for not completing their tasks within the castle.

"Rowena..." He said tiredly after coming from his hiding spot under his sheets. His cheeks were probably puffier than normal in a sort of pout - like a sick child not listening to the scolding of their mother about not taking care of their health.

He watched the older maid give him a soft smile and a sincere chuckle. Her hair was in a elegant bun and one could see the beginning of sliver hair coming into it, and the crow's feet that were near her gentle brown eyes were another thing that spoke of her age. And she came over and gently cupped his face and patted it softly with a sort of fondness to doing it. A gentle sigh coming from her mouth as she gave him a mischievous pinch of his cheek.

"My, my. What am I going to do with you, you sick Young Master."

Vesper could only give an annoyed grumble at her words. He begrudgingly got out of his bed and made his way to the bath where the maids expected him. The doors to the restroom were shut behind him - and he had to admit the steam and warmth made him feel more comfortable being out of bed. He took off the silk nightwear he had on and gracefully slipped into the bath. The maids went to work on scrubbing him clean - they even washed and cleaned his hair. The soaps and frangrances lingered on his skin - they were lavander and lemongrass for his skin while his hair smelled of strawberries and vanilla. Even the robe that waited for him after he bathed was warm against his skin, and this pleased him immensely. He hated feeling cold after a bath. So this was nice.

He opened the restroom door to see the maids hard at work in his room. They had taken out his wastebasket that had held his snotty tissues , they were changing his sheets , some looked like they were cleaning dust and sanitizing every single object in his room. The maids took keeping his room clean quite seriously, and a maid approached him with a mask on her face and gloves hands holding a tray, it was lemon-ginger peach tea with what appeared to be some medicine for him. He didn't like taking medicines that weren't home remedies but these would have to make do for now - at least he would know he died by foreign medicine and not his own. He took the bitter medicine and gingerly sipped on the warm tea. He could feel his sinuses clear a bit at the introduction of the ginger and his throat stopped hurting due to the honey and lemon. This was one of the rare occasions his allergies got the best of him and made him sick. But it should pass real soon.

By the time he finished his tea, the maids were gone and his room was spotless and sanitized. Now, he could get himself dressed for the day. He made his way to his closet where he found a simple frilled blouse that he slipped on, and after putting on undergarments he put on a crimson red skirt. He then put on a black corset that held beautiful golden embroidery on it with delicate ribbon laces on. He then put on some simple heeled boots on and then some golden jewelry : a golden necklace, some rings and some hairpins to accessorize his hair. And just for the hell of it some black eyeliner with golden dust under it. Even though he was sick he was still going to look pretty while being sick.

Today was going to be a slow day. He was content to stay in his room to himself and sleep and read. Speaking of reading, he walked over to a bookcase and picked a mystery book to read, and he went over to his blood red chaise lounge chair and sat down and began to read to himself. It was quiet and peaceful and if something interrupted said quite - there would be hell to pay. He was also starving and hoped his breakfast would be coming soon.


Edited at June 29, 2022 04:50 PM by Spellbound
Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 29, 2022 04:47 PM


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Neptune

19 || Female || Female Lover || Mentions: NPC, Open

"I swear to the sun's above.."

"Y-Yes! We are searching for them now Lady Neptune!"

"Why weren't they there to begin with?"

A small, petite figure was standing outside of a closed shower curtain, sweat trickling down her forehead as her chest heaved with paranoia, her hands silently waving to the other female servants to find a set of towels for the Lady that stood in the shower, growing irritable by the second, waiting for her towel. The maid was growing worried, anxious, and she looked as if she were to collapse onto the ground from exhaustion. Hiding behind the Shower Curtain, one of Emperor's specifically chosen.. mistress, was waiting and becoming impatient. But she had every right to be. These servants needed to be in top shape, and keep everything were it was supposed to be. Yet here they were, running around like chicken's with their heads cut off.

Finally, a younger maid had came rushing in, holding two perfectly folded grey towels, holding them gently in her hands. The short woman violently grabbed the towels from the poor girl's hand, and turned around, her head facing the curtain, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. "Miss?- We.. we found some.. their clean, and their neatly fold-"

"Well don't just stand there talking as if they are going to magically come to me. Give them to me."

With a ounce of slight hesitation, the maid pushed the towels through the curtain, and as they were aggressively snatched from her hands, she jerked her arms backwards, clasping her fingers together whilst taking a few steps back, watching as fingers curled around the opening of the curtains.

As the curtain was swung open, a cloud of mist escaped quickly, fading into the atmoshpere, a wave of heat dragging behind it. A graceful woman began to walk out, wrapped in a damp towel, while her hair dripped behind her, strands falling to the sides of her face, sticking to her skin like glue. Water was racing down her legs and arms, falling onto the ground in silence. It was no one other than Neptune, the Emperor's mistress. She glared at the maid who quickly looked away. "Whats the matter? Do you think you are better than me? That you don't deserve to stain your eyes with the likes of me?"

Neptune stared the woman down, her eyes like blades piercing through one's soul, slicing through as if it were absolutely nothing. Nothing but thin air, wasteless, useless air. The maid stood quiet, shaking her head, and muttering nonsense about how foolish she was, and how inconsiderate she was to leave the room with no proper tools. Neptune agreed whole heartedly. However, the maid was being to soft to herself.

Walking forward, water droplets continued to trickle down her long locks of hair, dripping onto the floor endlessly. Her bare feet walked along the cold surface, a cold, chilling feeling slowly moving throughout her body. The woman walked up to the maid, reaching for her face, and gently cupped her cheek with the palm of her chilled hand.

"Are you, afraid?"

She could feel the maid's jaw clench beneath her fingertips, and she couldn't help but smile. It was funny how the maids would cower at the sight of her hand, she didn't exactly know what she had done to make them so afraid, or so nervous around her. Maybe it was her looks~ or the power she held. It wasn't as much power as she hoped to possess.. but it sure was a start. And damn, wasn't it devine. Slowly, Neptune shifted her hand from the maid's cheek, to her chin, and her fingers began to tighten around the servant's skin in a rough manner.

Expecting a response, Neptune silently waited a few moments, only to feel the maid shiver beneath the woman's finger tips. Disappointed, she clicked her tongue, pulling the woman closer, their lips barely inches away from one another's. One would think as if she were reaching in for a kiss, however, she certainly was not. But tt was quite cute to see how the servant's eyes widened in confusion and fear. Fear radiated off of the poor thing, her thumping heartbeat echoing throughout Neptune's ears. She wished she could have made the poor insect fall into full panic mode, but she didn't have the time for it.

"Get out. Fetch me someone other than you. You obviously can't do your job right."

Shoving the maid into the wall behind them aggressively, she flicked her hand as the smaller woman stumbled, her body shaking horribly. Scoffing, Neptune ran her hand throughout her hair, running her fingertips throughout the strands of wet hair, stripping her strands of every possible ounce of water she could, flicking her fingers in a wave - like fashion, flicking off the water.

Flashing her eyes to the woman, Neptune stared at the maid against the wall, growing agitated. Did she not know what "get out" meant?. Groaning annoyingly, she walked over, her hand reaching for the woman's throat, pushing her against the wall, staring the woman down. "Are you deaf?"

Shaking her head, the maid whimpered softly, and Neptune gritted her teeth. Finally fed up with this pathetic waste of air, she spoke soothingly, a wicked smile appearing upon her face. "Get the fuck out of here. Before I stick your head on a spike."

Without hesitation, the Maid stood to her feet as the Mistress took her hand off of her neck, and made a bee-line for the door, leaving the woman be.

Sighing dramatically, the Miss rolled her shoulders. How come these maids were so.. stupid? Whats the point of having servants if they won't even listen to your every command. A dog would have been more useful. Neptune began to walk over to a small closet, approaching it quickly ready to leave this room and find herself back in the comfort of her own room where she wouldn't need to bother with useless maids. She threw the doors open to find a rather empty closet, with a few dusty towels, some cleaning utilities, and a ash-grey robe. It wasn't hers.. oddly. Wasn't this her personal bathing room? Lord. No one can keep their shit to themselves these days. Shrugging her shoulders, she grabbed the robe regardless.

------

Walking out from the room in the ashen robe, Neptune had made her way throughout the halls silently, avoiding anyone who might have walked past. Thankfully, no one did. It wasn't she was afraid of being spotted walking down to her room in a robe, but she wasn't very fond of speaking to others while in a robe and slippers. Wasn't something she found that she was fond of. Maybe once in a while. Not in the hallways.

"I'm so hungry," she muttered under her breath to herself. Maybe she'd order one of these stupid maids to get her an apple or something.. but.. salad kinda' sounded good.

Making her way into her room, the Lady closed her door behind her, and quickly rushed over to her bed, and fell into the soft covers face first, whipping her feet onto the matress, kicking her slippers off carelessly. She mumbled curses beneath her breath, and sighed into her pillows, "I phacking loaf shalad."

Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 29, 2022 05:55 PM


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Apherious Chero

27 :: Masculine :: Devil Army / Lover's Personal Guard :: Mentions: Vesper [dir], Aziz [ind]

This man has been awake since the asscrack of dawn. He didn't want to wake up so early, but being a member of the devil army, he was expected to follow certain protocols. He hadn't bathed for the past two days, but he managed not to smell too badly. At least, in his opinion. He was sure that any unfriendly odor would be drowned out by other aromas by the time he entered Vesper's room, anyway.

Cherry hadn't eaten breakfast yet, so he had a pretty solid idea that would involve nagging Vesper's cooks to make him some breakfast too. He had the urge to bother Aziz, but right now, food was his priority. He'd have plenty of chances to bother Aziz when they patrol together, anyway.

Back to the idea of food. Cherry was contemplating what he'd order. His stomach growled as if communicating with him. He lightly patted the bottomless pit that he called his stomach, soothing its greedy desires.

There there, you'll be fed soon.

His stomach grumbled as if begrudgingly allowing Cherry a few more minutes before it imploded on him.

Mm, perhaps a whole steak. Spices and all. After all, how can I keep up these beautiful muscles of mine without giving my body the proper diet?

Cherry nodded to himself in agreement, ignoring everyone around him as he made a beeline to Vesper's room. He could hear a couple of voices call his name, but they were nobody of importance. He was nearing Vesper's room. Just a few more strides and-

Someone walked in front of him, he nearly ran into them and stopped just inches from their chest. Their expression was a resting bitch face that grabbed Cherry's attention. He recognized this man standing before him as someone who held a higher rank than him, though he couldn't remember their name for the life of him.

"I called your name three times, Apherious."

It's Cherry.

"Are you deaf or something?" The man twisted his face into a condescendingly ugly one when Cherry didn't reply to him. Gods, he could've avoided this guy if he was just a tad quicker.

"Yeah," Cherry nonchalantly let his eyes stray toward Vesper's door, though he could see the frustration twist on the man's face in his peripheral.

"I don't know how you ever survived the army," The man grumbled. "I was trying to tell you about the-" The guy's voice faded into incoherent words.

Uugh. My back hurts.

Is he still talking?

Cherry stretched, trying to ease the ache in his spine.

"Are you listening Apherious?"

Cherry nodded, his eyes still trained on the door.

"Well then, I'll expect to see you there at the tenth bell," With that, the guy ended his one-sided conversation and continued on with his day, freeing Cherry's path.

Cherry, who had no idea what that guy was talking about, gladly took the opportunity to continue on his way. He was probably going to be scolded later for not being wherever this guy wanted him to be, but he couldn't give less of a shit, really. He was a member of the devil's army, he could endure anything that dude could throw at him... Hopefully.

Eh, I'll deal with that later.

Before Cherry could enter Vesper's room, a delicious fragrance caught his attention. He whipped around, spotting a maid carrying a silver platter that radiated gorgeous foody smells. He could feel his mouth salivate, and he nearly drooled. With uncanny haste, he placed a hand on the servant's shoulder to stop them, swiftly taking the plate from them.

"T-that's Lord Vesper's-"

"Shh don't be so loud, he might hear you," Cherry, hissed and shot the servant a death glare, then quickly sent the servent on their way. The food smelt great, and he wondered what Vesper had prepared.

No, don't eat it. Vesper will notice.

But it smelt so good.

Bad. Don't do it...

Well... Maybe just a small bite...

Cherry shook his head. He had to resist the seductive idea.

With one hand carrying the plate, he opened the doors to Vesper's room, pushing them lazily to the side as he took in the pure cleanliness of the place. The maids really didn't hold back on making this place spotless.

Cherry spotted the prissed-up Vesper in the corner who seemed to be intent on reading some novel that would probably give Cherry a headache if he tried to read it.

Within a few strides, Cherry closed the distance between him and Vesper, laying the plate of food beside him with a certain air of contempt, as if he personally fetched the entire platter himself.

"Made with my blood, sweat, and tears," Cherry said lightly, his feminine voice piercing the silence. He knew Vesper wouldn't like him interrupting the book they were reading, but Cherry just wanted to get his little signature lie in for today. He felt the need to.

A lie a day keeps the friends away.

A maid followed Cherry in, but he quickly sent her back out, listing all the foods that he was craving.

"I'm Lord Vesper's maid, Aph-"

"This is for Lord Vesper, now be on your way," With the flick of a wrist, Cherry dismissed the woman. He didn't know who she was, but she seemed confident that Vesper wouldn't order the food that Cherry had listed, and she was rightfully suspicious- which was annoying.

Cherry found a comfortable-looking chair and pulled it somewhat near Vesper. He looped his leg over the chair, sitting on it backward as he rested his chin on the rimming. He was directly facing Vesper, perhaps a few feet away, and staring intently at the back of the book that Vesper held. He didn't even notice the guy's effort to look pretty even whilst being sick.

His attention immediately started to drift off as he silently waited for Vesper to either chew him out for spewing such lies or start going on a rant about his illness. An illness that Cherry wasn't afraid of contracting, for some reason.

...Is that mahogany?

Cherry somehow found himself focusing on the shelving behind Vesper, contemplating the wood type before distracting himself once more.

Kingdom of Medo | ThreadJune 29, 2022 10:03 PM


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Helene Deire’Tenir

21 :: Feminine :: Consort :: Mentions: Abaddon [dir] Tavarious, Neptune, Vesper [ind]

It was odd. The woman would’ve expected Abaddon to be appearing out from the corner at any second, but he didn’t. She found herself contemplating the possible reasons behind this. The possible accidents that could’ve happened.

You’re worried about a guy that could slit your throat in seconds if he wanted to, Hel.

Helene shook the thoughts from her head. Abaddon seemed so gentle when he was around her, so she couldn’t blame herself for thinking that he was like that even when he was without her. Helene often tried to remind herself who Abaddon was, but it was difficult, and she didn’t like thinking about that side of him. Couldn’t at least one person in this Empire be sane?

Nobody here has their gears straight. Hel was sure that one of Tavarious’s lovers, Neptune, was planning to slit her throat in the middle of the night. Ten hells, the woman probably would. That is unless Tavarious didn’t beat her to it. The other lover—Vesper. He didn’t seem as murderous as the other two, but then again, it could be Helene just trying to make some good out of all the bad. She wanted to get to know Vesper to some degree, find out who he was. Who am I kidding? If he’s with someone like Tavarious then there are definitely a few screws loose.

Helene found her gait slowing as she neared the throne room. She was just going to pass by, but her legs betrayed her by stopping at the entrance. The figure of a giant sitting upon a throne made her stomach turn uncomfortably. Just keep walking. Helene stayed there, and stared, once again betraying herself. It seemed that she couldn’t help herself. Her eyes looked Tavarious up and down, and she had hoped that he hadn’t caught on to her stare.

She managed to keep her face blank, but her eyes flashed with disturbance. Her back was stiffly straightened and uncomfortably so, her shoulders were reeled back as if a fisherman caught them by his hook, and her head was slightly tilted to face the entrance to the throne room. She wanted to keep walking, she really did, but her legs just wouldn’t move. The more she observed Tavarious, the more vividly she could imagine burying his corpse in her homeland’s snow. His skin would be even paler than it was right now, and cold to the touch. The bits of his white hair which would be considered beautiful to the people of the Ash tribe, would be crisped and aged by the icy weather. His face- that haughty smirk and those devilish eyes- they would be at rest. Being dead looked good on Tavarious, in her eyes.

She wanted to tell him that.

Helene was never usually this pleased by the idea of murder, but the thought of leaving the emperor for dead felt like weights being lifted off her shoulders.

If only she was truly rid of him.

Since Tavarious would be busy tending to his people, that meant Helene could go unbothered- at least until meal times. In a way, she felt useless. She wanted to rule a court, settle political matters, fight battles beside her companion, and be the Queen she was trained to be. But not with Tavarious. Every day her dislike for him grew into a firey pit of hate, which bubbled in disgust. She hated that he was able to control her. Keep her penned up. She hated that it worked. She really was his trophy. Constantly dolled up, obedient- to a degree- and wandering aimlessly in the castles like a lost little bird.

I could be out, sparring with Wynson. Or hunting with Levey. Talking about political matters with Bellavida, discussing futures with father. Hell, staying late at inns and taverns and getting drunk to the point where Wynson would have to carry me back home before I was seduced by a woman or man. I could be traveling the north with my tribe. Ruling as I should. Working, as I should. Straining my muscles to the point where I feel like I’ll collapse.

Helene didn’t realize that her lips were pursed. She hadn’t gone through a real exercise since she arrived that the castle. She wanted to feel sore again, to feel the blood rushing to her head after a blow to it. She wanted to feel the adrenaline course through her- the excitement at the questionable fate before her. She couldn’t get any of that, being inside the castle. Luckily, Tavarious seemed to be getting more lenient with where she goes. So long as Abaddon was beside her.

As if on cue, Helene heard a throat being cleared from behind her, followed by a hand on her lower back. The touch made her stiffen before she realized who the hand was connected to, and she could feel a rush of security flood her senses.

Abaddon.

This was enough to get her to look turn away from Tavarious and direct her attention to the man. He was dressed accordingly, and Helene couldn’t help but notice the parasol that was sandwiched in his other arm. The pinkish-tan color was a stark contrast to Abaddon’s dark colors, which made her crack a small, delicate smile. The sight of him seemed to control her headache, compacting it into a smaller form of pain.

Ah, so he went into my room.

Helene might’ve thought that to be invasive if it was anyone other than Abaddon, as she knew Abaddon was doing it purely out of concern for her wellbeing.

“Sir, Abaddon,” She dipped her head as a form of greeting him. Helene was about to ask him what he was doing but stopped herself when he started to unhook his cloak. In moments, it was draped over her shoulders, blocking the sunlight that reached through the windows from gnawing at her skin. She managed to let her back relax a little yet maintained a regal posture. The fur of Abaddon’s cloak tickled her jaw, and it reminded her of the pelts she used to wear. She would’ve inhaled the nostalgic scent of the fur if Abaddon wasn’t right there. She didn’t want to look like some weirdo sniffing his clothes.

The cloak managed to keep the warmth from penetrating, and surprisingly kept Helene cool. Her pelts at home did the opposite, which brought Helene’s curiosity to the material that the cloak was made from.

“Allow me to hold your parasol for you, your highness,”

Within moments, the little umbrella popped open and was shading Helene. They weren’t even outside yet, and Abaddon was going through such measures. Helene searched Abaddon’s innocently golden eyes for any ill intent, and found none. Like always.

“Thank you,” Her voice was light and carried on like the chorus of a song as she continued her brisk walk. The moment she was out of view from the throne room, she felt like she could breathe again. The stables wasn’t far now, and given their pace, they’d arrive shortly. Helene had the urge to spark up a conversation, but Abaddon beat her to the speaking part.

“I apologize for being late, I was speaking with a recruit, who bad-mouthed me at the end,”

Helene looked up, just a few inches, to see the flash of a twisted expression that was splayed across Abaddon’s face, which had gone as quickly as it came. She had mixed emotions about his words. On one hand, she didn’t want to dig deep on what he had done to the recruit. He probably didn’t hold back, even though the insulter was a recruit. Given that he wasn’t fashionably on time, gave Hel enough proof. On the other hand, she felt responsible for any insults thrown at him. His name is probably being dragged through the mud because of Helene. And for that, she felt guilty. Abaddon was at her beck and call, at her side nearly all the time, following her orders, doing whatever she told him to.

He was a dog in everyone else’s eyes. But that was simply unfair. He shouldn’t be considered a dog for following orders. If that’s how people wanted to play, then they shouldn’t mind being called snakes. Most of them were cold-blooded people old enough to be reptiles, anyway.

The more Helene thought of it, the more she couldn’t deny the accuser’s reasons. A dog was loyal to their owner, they craved attention and would pursue tasks just to bring their owner joy. No matter how dirty the task was.

They’re getting in your head, Hel.

To try and even out the reasoning, Hel tried to think of things to parry them.

But a dog also bites the hand that feeds them. But I’ve also heard rumors that Abaddon has bitten people.

But he hasn’t bitten me yet.

Wait. Yet?

Am I expecting him to bite me?

Helene could feel a rush of heat crawl up her neck.

Stop- no, not like that.

It was too late though, and Helene’s cheeks began to turn a rosy shade, her ears becoming a similar hue.

Traitor.

Helene mentally cursed at her body for betraying her once again. She really needed to learn how to keep her emotions in check. Only now did she realize how close Abaddon was. He wasn’t much taller than her, given her heels gave a few inches to her height, but he kept an even stride to be just at her side. Helene didn’t mind the closeness, because in a way, Abaddon was her shield. Like her father always said, one should always keep their shields close. It sounded much cooler when he said it though, and not when she repeated it in her mind.

“Ah, don’t mind my bad attitude. I’m sorry if It ruined your mood.”

Helene shook her head, reluctant to answer with her words. In her current state, they’d probably spill out in a tattered mess, and she didn’t want to embarrass herself any further. After a few moments, Helene managed to gain control of herself, forcing the rush of pink to subside to just her ears and neck. It should be safe to talk now.

“Abaddon,” The name rolled off her tongue smoothly. It was a name that was easy to say. Easier to say than Tavarious, anyway.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you for… everything,” Helene tilted her head slightly, her eyes were steadily ahead of her, though she was fully aware of Abaddon in her peripheral.

“I’m sure it’s not easy nor fun to chase around a mad woman,” Helene managed a chuckle at her own words as she recalled the times where she grew impatient being locked in the castle, and wandered around as if she was being plagued by ghosts.

“Let alone handle all the-“ Helene struggled to find a formally right word, but found none, so she continued. “Shit.”

“I know I’m not a particularly compliant person, so…”

You really should’ve have thought your sentences through before you started to speak. Amateur, Hel.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I just want to show you in some way that I’m grateful to have you as my guard.” Helene briefly looked toward Abaddon, but was quickly distracted when she officially stepped outside of the castle. She was following a path toward the stables, which was a fair distance outside of the shady corridors. She was fortunate that Abaddon noticed her parasol wasn’t with her. She was fortunate that Abaddon came to her. Despite his cloak and shade, though, she could still feel the uncomfortable warmth.

Her hands were on the hotter side of warm, something she didn’t like the feel of. It was especially obvious when she started messing with the frills of her dress, trying to prevent her hands from sweating and becoming clammy. How could she stroke Balade’s face with such clammy hands? The stallion would be offended, for sure. A humid wind brushed against her chest, which was revealing its pale self to the world, thanks to her dress. She plucked the edges of the gifted cloak and tried to shield the humidity from her bare skin. It helped a bit.

The stables weren’t far, just a little more walking and she’d be able to greet her little stallion. Just a little more. The warmth of the outside seemed to worsen her headache, and she bit down on a portion of her bottom lip in defiance of the feeling. She really shouldn’t have gotten so drunk last night. Damn those emotions. After what felt like a decade, Helene was finally shielded by the stable walls. Balade was lightly tacked and groomed, ready for a ride. The poor pony had a thin layer of sweat on his chest, but other than that, he looked like he was adapting to the weather well. A stableboy was holding the reins when Helene approached Balade.

She was quick to draw her hands up to the stallion’s stout face, and she stroked his nasal bone gently.

“How’s my little man doing?” She spoke gently to him, then bent down to his nose to give him a small, puckered kiss. His nose was always so soft, squishy, and fuzzy. If she didn’t have company she would’ve squeezed it with her fingers and booped him numerous times. An elongated, done-with-life breath came from Balade, and Helene smiled in response. Balade smelled of her homelands, which made her want to be glued to his side.

“I suppose we should get your horse ready, Abaddon. Unless you want to want to bunk with me on Balade- though I think it’d be cruel for both of you.” Helene teased, her eyes were still on Balade as she stroked his large neck, ruffling his trojan mane with the tips of her fingers. The stallion always made her feel a lot more comfortable. His small, bulky stature was such an adorable sight.

Helene didn't want to acknowledge that she wasn't really dressed for a ride. She'd have to side-saddle Balade to keep her balance, especially in these heels, but she could manage it. After all, it wasn't the first time she rode in heels.


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