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Character list

Empire of Edyss

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Heir

Amel | 23 | M | Page #6 | Overthink101

Soldiers

Acilia/Decius Lucius | 23 | F | Page #2 | Cereal [ Knight ]

Thalia Ito | 21 | F | Page #5 | Ciao [ Mercenary ]

Servants

§ Neveyne Ire | 22 | F | Page #1 | Kämpa

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Kingdom of Kagha

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King

Nikolas A. | 55 | Page #5 | Shadows in the Mist

Queen

Kinga A. | 52 | Page #5 | Polly

Princes

Zacharius | 26 | Page #1 | Kämpa

Kristopher | 24 | Page #2 | Ciao

Princess

Salen V.F. | 23 | Page #3 | Overthink101

Soldiers

Kagha Talmeren | 23 | M | Page #4 | Ebanon [ Knight ]

Mircea Vasilica Rosenburg | 23 | M | Page #3 | Spellbound [ Knight ]

Ashara H. Zanni | 23 | F | Page #3 | Xuân [ Knight ] §

Servants

Basil | 19 | M | Page #4 | Cereal

Sundance Adora-Belle | 19 | F | Page #4 | Vintage

Commonfolk

Kinley Sinsmore | 22 | M | Page #5 | Fusty-Dudget

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Kingdom of Orin

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King

Randolph C. | 53 | Page #4 | Sir Froggington

Queen

Moriah L. | 49 | Page #5 | NPC

Prince

Hyacinth M. | 19 | Page #6 | Spellbound

Princesses

Mirian O. | 23 | Page #2 | Shaows in the Mist

Sori R. | 21 | Page #3 | Polly

Soldiers

Agris Aivars Bairugih | 20 | M | Page #3 | Overthink101 [ Knight ]

Edrys Kolsvalk | 22 | F | Page #3 | Covidic [ Knight ]

Kazimir Payne | 16 | M | Page #4 | Didelphis [ Squire ]

Servant

Arisse Karyille | 18 | F | Page #4 | Ebanon ℵ

Commonfolk

Ryksa Desiree | 29 | F | Page #6 | Nezdu [ Foreign Highborn ]

Headers

Name | Age | Gender | Role | Kingdom | Mentions:

RP info

The beginning post should include your characters arriving at the castle in Prira. If your character is from Kagha, they should be prepping for the ball. If your character is a knight from the kingdom of Orin, they should be sticking close to the royals. Same goes for the knights of Kagha. Other less 'important' roles can attend however they wish.

The ball is a masquerade ball. Nobody knows each others identities (unless you came to the ball with them). The Kings & Queens are to meet up in a secure room to discuss the alliance as the ball is being held. To not raise suspicion, after of discussing a bit, they will be expected to attend the ball.

The masquerade ball is going to begin at sunset and last a couple of hours into the night. After the ball, royals and their knights will be given rooms in the castle of Khaga to stay the night in. In the morning, a hunting tournament is to be held. More information on this will be given later. If you have questions, pm me.

Weather/Time

Spring :: ~7pm

There are a few clouds in the sky being illuminated by the sun that's on the verge of setting. There's a slight, warm, ocean breeze coming in from Prira's shores.

::

You may now post.

Zacharius Venturi

26 :: Masculine :: Prince of Kagha :: Mentions: Mircea, Kris, Salen, Basil [ ind. ]

A flash of scarlet red spurt out in Zacharius’s peripheral. The thunk of steel piercing, burrowing its way through flesh pounded in his ears. It was shortly followed by the woosh of his enemy’s body falling to the ground. He was already on his next opponent before the thump of his previous target was heard smacking the floor. Metal and steel clanking against one another rang out like drums on a set. In some deranged way, it reminded him of music.

Every beat would send Zacharius gliding from one place to another. Every short, clattering chorus would be the result of his ax coming down onto his target’s head, splitting their helm with a rippling crack. And like every song that sings its way into your heart, you remember the lyrics.

You remember the voices.

You remember their faces.

Zak’s eyes drearily opened. He didn’t even realize that he took a nap, but now it makes sense. All he remembered was jumping onto his bed; he didn’t even recall feeling his body make contact with the cotton sheets. He needed his beauty sleep anyway.

He shifted from his formally comfortable position as he tried to find a better one but ultimately failed. It was quiet in his room, but not deathly so. He could hear giggling maids and water trickling, along with a kettle steaming in the other room. The combination of blurred noises reminded him of something… Hold on.. Zacharius took a moment to gather his thoughts.

Were the noises coming from his bathing room? Was it that time already? How long was he asleep?

Zacharius lay spread out upon his bed in a starfish shape, completely oblivious to the scurrying maids that rushed candles and soaps into the bathing room. The masquerade ball was probably set to occur in a couple of hours, and he had just finished training with his platoon. He was grimy, sweaty, and reeked of body odor. Reeks a bit harsh- Zak lifted his arm and dared to sniff himself. If he wasn’t already nose blind to most things, he probably would’ve fainted. Even through his tattered senses, he could smell the repelling scent. In fact, for a moment he swore he saw stars.

Zak always seemed to sweat the worse in his family. Kris never gets it this bad. Damn one-inch taller bastard. Yes, Zacharius has never gotten over how Kristopher gained height on him. The audacity of his brother’s growth spurt haunts him every waking moment.

He lifted his head up, watching a couple of maids splash a bucket of hot water into a tub before gliding around the corner again. Watching them boss each other around reminded him of a certain someone. He could practically hear the nagging voice telling him that he shouldn’t be laying on his bed and traumatizing his blankets with his odor. He caught himself imagining a scene unrolling with his friend and chuckled at the thought. Mircea always managed to amuse him.

He was staring blankly at the maids, lost in thought when one of the younger ones glanced up at him. Instinctively, Zak sat up entirely and planted an elbow on one of his popped knees. His lips were on the verge of tugging into a smile when the maid immediately brought her gaze down to the floor, her face growing a beet shade of red. For a moment he felt a little ashamed of himself. Damn you for betraying me, body. Zak corrected his seductive posture. Flirting with a maid would make the nobles think that he hit rock bottom. She was the only decent-looking one though. Not pretty, per se, but she wasn’t aged and calloused like the others. Get a grip. You’ll go after anything that breaths, won’t you? Zak tugged on his lower lip with his teeth, scrunching up his face as he reprimanded himself.

He caught the same maid staring again.

She must be new. Zak never really paid attention to the maids, so the young woman could’ve been here for years. It’s usually a newly employed kind of habit to glance up at royalty, but with Zak’s growing stories about him being lenient, he’s been catching more eyes. There’s always an inkling in him to tell them off solely for being the responsible prince he is, but then again, he can’t blame their curiosity. If he was in their position, he would want to sneak a glance at his employer. Especially if they were as shirtless as he is right now.

Zak rolled off his bed half-heartedly. His bare feet met the cold hard flooring of his room as he did a big, toddler-like stretch, waving his arms about in the air before he hit that good spot. A huff escaped him as he relaxed once more. His posture slouched a bit as he looked at the long mirror that hung beside his windows. His abused, baggy beige pants clung to his calves, sticking to the sweat like glue. He has had these pants for way too long. He can’t remember the last time he switched them out for a new pair. Five winters ago the last pair was ripped after being snagged on a nail during an intense course exercise. Or was that six winters… five summers… Eh, who fuckin’ cares anyway.

Zacharius’ onyx flyaways were pressed against his forehead and curled in abnormal shapes, plastered against his warm skin. His chin was freshly shaven this morning and smooth to the touch, for which he was thankful. He didn’t want to be rushed to shave his stubble and knick himself in the process.

Zak reached for the bun that sat atop his head, undoing it in a single pluck of the band that held it all together. A wave of black cascaded down his features and tickled the nape of his neck. He ran a hand through it, pushing the overlapping hair on his right side back, only to watch it slide right back into place, showing him that his efforts were for naught. For a searing, moment of lust for vengeance, he considered cutting it all off. I can’t bring myself to do it.

He tore his eyes from the mirror, tired of looking at his freshly tattered body. He had gained a couple of extra bruises and cuts from training. He swore that the soldier had some personal grudge against him. None of them ever pick up the chain mace… Maybe I did something to deserve such bold brutality. Zak hunched over slightly, bringing his thumb to his face as he lightly rested his teeth on the edge of his nail; his signature “I’m thinking very hard right now” pose.

The doors to his corridors swung open but Zak didn’t even offer the arrivals a glance. In his peripheral, he could see glimpses of gold and see-through fabrics that were strung together on a shaped chest and torso. The mannequin sporting his masquerade outfit lacked legs and a head but still managed to pull the look off in Zak’s opinion.

Maybe I went gallivanting around with his daughters or wife. He’s older than me so that’d mean his wife is likely older than me. At least I’d hope… Zak really wished that he could remember faces well. “Eh, I’ll interrogate him later,” His words reached the maid who was tampering with his masquerade outfit, and he could feel the tension in her steps after he muttered those thoughts. I meant ask. Ask him. Zak couldn’t be bothered to audibly correct himself, so he shrugged it off. That maid probably thinks that he’s going to torment some poor soul at Black Hill Prison like it’s in his daily routine.

Zak turned his short attention span to the magnificent apparel. “Ooh…” Zak rose his brows amusingly as he ran his fingers down the soft fabric. He pinched the sleeves and picked them up, staring at the extremely thin material that would be covering his chest. The tailor did a magnificent job… Zak’s finger trailed down to the abnormally high-cut waistband that stopped halfway down the mannequin’s torso. On Zak, it would stop just above his belly button. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips as a wide grin formed. I didn’t know the tailor thought so highly of me. He may be partially flashing his audience, but hey, it’s a masquerade ball- and technically he was wearing something.

This is going to be fun.

Zacharius didn’t even notice the small stool and pestle that was brought in by another maid. The elderly lady was crushing some red substance together until it became a powder. He glanced at the older woman then down to the powder with a raised brow. His curiosity was painstakingly obvious.

The maid flinched as he leaned over her shoulder before retreating to his original stance. “What’s in it?” He asked, his deep soothing voice breaking the muttering bits and conversations of the maids. “Eshwar petals picked from Costhyme’s eternally blooming field, Your Royal Highness,” Her voice was timid yet hoarse. An odd combination. Zak flicked his chin up in a half-hearted nod, acting as if he knew what kind of flower that was. It probably wasn’t poisonous anyway. If It is then at least I’ll go out looking hot as fuck—Imagine what my memorial would look like ‘The ruthless bear on the battlefield; death by flowers.’ That was a good way to go out. Basil would be proud of him.

What was I going to do again?

He didn’t know what he could do other than wait. The bath was almost ready for him, and he could smell the deliciously seducing aromas that seemed to entice him into coming closer. “What’s taking so damn long,” Zak grunted, peering into the bathing room where a couple of maids were gossiping. Their quaint whispers made his stomach churn. He would’ve ordered them out if they weren’t busy perfecting the bath. “The bath is taking exceptionally longer since we couldn’t start the heating process until our former responsibilities were seen through, Your Royal Highness,” The new girl spoke up before wringing her hands together nervously. That makes sense. The maids and servants of the castle would be rushing and working their asses off because of the new arrivals. He didn’t know why he didn’t think that up earlier. Eh, thinking is Salen’s thing.

Oh god. Salen. What would she say about his attire for the ball? …Zak we must represent our kingdom, not run around like little sluts. His mock-up of her voice was surprisingly accurate. A mixture of poised, naggy, and a stick up the ass.

Perhaps Zak should give her some slack. After all, she’s the youngest of the family- and probably the favorite. Who am I kidding, she’s definitely the golden child. I’ll never admit that to her face, though. Every thought that passed Zak’s mind was quickly replaced by another, and another, and another until he realized he lost track of his original plan. His brain seemed to be extra scrambled this afternoon. Was he getting nervous about the ball? It would be the first time Zak met anyone else from the land of Edyss. He grew up in Kagha’s barriers and only went on expeditions overseas. I wonder what they look like… Are they as attractive as the people here? I hope so… Dammit Zak, stop getting off track. Bathe, dress up, get to the ball... Be a good host...

“Right.” Zak lightly clapped his hands together and curled his lips into each other as he stared at the bath. Last-minute touches were being made. It looked so serene and Zak swore he heard it calling his name. Wait, wait, wait. You can’t just go in there without a drink. Zak slowly brought his gaze to the thin, tall green wine bottle standing all alone on his wooden desk. The cork was still plugged deep into the narrow opening of the bottle, waiting for Zak to pop it off. Before he could comprehend what was happening he felt the bottle in his hand. Zak lifted the bottle to his hand and chomped the edge of the cork with his sharp canines.

Right before he was going to tear off the barrier that was stopping him from his sweet, well-deserved wine, he felt something. A shiver ran up Zak’s spine, causing him to straighten his posture.

My Mircea senses are tingling.

His personal guard would arrive shortly. Zak’s sixth sense never failed him. In fact, he swore he could hear the little tip-tapping of a certain pair of shoes. He counted the distance between the strides and confirmed his suspicions. For a moment, he wanted to dive under his bed or hide behind something- that rush of adrenaline that made him want to do something was always short-lived and he managed to tame it within moments. He looked toward the doors, the cork still sandwiched between his teeth, waiting for a knight covered in bulky armor to barge through with a list of things that he must do today.

“3…2…1…”

Mircea Vasilica Rosenburg

23 :: Masculine :: Knight :: Mentions: Zacharius

A young man groaned as he looked at the mountain of work before him. He took the book where he usually recorded the daily schedule into his hand and flipped its pages quickly as he walked through the castle. Today was an important day, and he was going to make sure it went off without a hitch - even if it meant fighting God himself. He had a couple errands to run before he made his usual appearance to his Highness's room. A small scoff escaping his lips as he thought of Zacharius - that prince was probably still sleeping after doing some activity, well he would have a rude awakening if he was still in bed. So he had better pray to the gods he wasn't. He watched as servants moved out of his way with swift efficiency- and he held his head highly as he walked through the castle. His heeled boots helping him glide effortlessly down the halls and corridors of the castle. His first task was making sure the riding equipment and outfit for the prince was ready for tomorrow - he knew that what the prince would be wearing to the masquerade tonight should've been delivered already, and if not - someone was being fired.

Mircea watched as the tailor regarded him with a gulp and a slight wipe of his brow. Good, he should be fearful. Mircea simply quirked his brow, an invisible question hanging in the air - no words needed to be spoken. A hand on his hip as he tapped his fingers on it - awaiting the answer.

"My Lord, the riding equipment and outfit for the prince are prepared and read for inspection whenever your lordship desires. We also have the finest groomers coming in for his Majesty's steed." The man said - a tremor in his voice but with confidence.

"Excellent." Mircea said with a curt nod, "I expect everything to be ready for inspection - hours prior to the hunt. And make sure it is kept under strict guard and watch. I need nothing being tampered with. Understood." His words were sharp and concise - leaving no room for argument or refusal of his orders.

"Crystal, My Lord." The man replied as he went back to his other needs.

Mircea quickly spun on his heels. If one could say he could fly around the castle, well he did. Going to make sure guards were in place, yelling at some slacking knights, making sure food was being prepared and maids and servants were ready for the guest to come into the castle. The man was definitely putting in the work on the boots, but now he had one final stop.

As he walked down the hall he felt a shiver up his spine. A slight disappointed sigh came from his lips and he rubbed his temples annoyed. Zacharius is doing something stupid again. And he without announcing himself or caring what the prince was doing burst into the room in all his glory.

You see, Mircea wasn't in his usual clunky armor as the prince's bodyguard. Right now he wore a corset vest that held the deep red and black with lavish golden designs on it and a black blouse. The frills sort of puffing as he moved about the room - he also sported a pair of high-waisted black pants with golden buttons. And to finish it off was a pair of heeled black leather boots. His hair wasn't up or hidden away either, it's wild and messy curls were on full display and a simple golden ribbon in the form of a bow wrapped around it into a thick ponytail. Not to mention the makeup, he had black eyeliner on.

Mircea was too busy snooping around the prince's room until he found what he was looking for. Under a cabinet was a box of chocolates from the land of Uzuel, they were a spiced dark chocolate that Mircea liked. And he took the box and plopped one in his mouth before assessing the room. He noticed the bed was disturbed. So Zacharius had been taking a nap but he was up now. He felt his nose scrunch up at the sight of filth marring the bedsheets.

"Zacharius," he hissed out in annoyance, "I have told you 21 times about these sheets. The next time you do this I am personally burning your sheets and forcing you to sleep on nothing but a rock. These poor, poor cotton sheets - you're lucky they're not expensive threads or I would've had your head on a stake by now." He hissed out and he noticed a maid.

"You there, maid. Take these repulsive sheets and have them burned - and get a fresh and clean pair. Tell the laundress that the prince apologizes for ruining some more of their precious sheets." He said to the maid - who nodded at him.

The young male flitted around the room as if it was his own. He was checking to make sure everything was in place . He made a mental note that the outfit and makeup were already there and being prepared. He paused in his steps for a second. All he could hear was silence. Why was it silent. Slowly he turned and with a vengeance made his way to the restroom.

"Unbelievable." He muttered unamused, and he leaned forward, his hands on his hips in a displeased manner, his eyes practically glowing golden with fury at the maids, "Why isn't the Prince already bathed and preparing for the Masquerade - that is in a couple hours?"

He could hear some trying to blubber out excuses and he gave them a furious look that forced them to shut up.

"Ladies," he said deadly calm, "this is the Prince of Kagha. A couple hours doesn't mean a couple hours for him - he has to be ready, now. What do you think our guest will think if they aren't greeted by the prince for the ball. Do you want him to have a shameful reputation? Or our nation to have a bad reputation? I know you ladies work hard but someone should've been on top of this. I don't care if he's the prince or if he's doing something important, drag his ass out of there and get him to do what you need."

He then turned his fury to Zacharius as he stormed up to him, not taking into account of his lack of a shirt.

"Of all the things. You should be on top of this. Goddamnit Zacharius, of all the days. Of course you'd be troublesome on my day off. I outta-" he paused for a moment to take in the sight before him.

Zacharius was shirtless. And his hair was a goddamned mess, but hell if the messiness didn't suit him. Mircea had to give an owlish blink, before he felt the heat creeping into his freckled cheeks.

"You're shirtless." He said out loud.

"Why the fuck." He said again stepping back trying to gain his composure.

If he could jump into a void right now - he would. Now admittedly he had seen Zacharius shirtless before, but this was different. Sure they were kids but now they were adults and not to mention he was chomping on a wine bottle. Wait, he was chomping on a wine bottle.

"Why the fuck are you chomping on a wine bottle like a barbarian." He hissed as he snatched the bottle from the male, his hair probably hitting him in the face as he turned to grab the knife off the tray and swiftly decork the bottle without a problem. He then poured a glass of wine and took the bottle.

"I'm confiscating this. And you better be finished bathing by the time I finish this bottle." He huffed annoyed as he exited the bathroom.

He then put the bottle down on a countertop and checked himself out in the mirror. After all he would be welcoming guests with the prince - so he needed to be presentable. He did a little once over, and turned to check out how the corset fit on him and he was pleased to see the size had been correct. But he frowned when he noticed some strings were still loose. He with annoyance attempted to fix the laces but he had he give a small hmph of annoyance at the fact the damn things weren't cooperating.

"Damned corset laces." He hissed out - more focused on the laces now than the troublesome prince.

Basil | 19 | Male | Servant/Gardener | Kingdom of Kagha

Mentions: Servant (NPC), Mircea (ind.), Sal (ind.), Zak (ind.), and Kris (ind.)

A shovel digs into the rich soil-sweat pouring down his forehead. Like all servants, Basil had to wake up early to tidy everything up before the royals. The dark bags under his eyes tell a whole different story. The young man never slept last night-the reason why slipped out of his feeble mind. Indeed, the poor man has no clue why he did it? Was it for something important? If so, he would've been sure to remember it. His eyes dart to the windows, noticing people's heads flying by. Worrying naive Basil-who was tending to the garden as always.

Were they being attacked? He doesn't hear any alarms going off. That couldn't be the reason. Hmm, did someone die? No, no. That's not either. A frown formed on his face. The confusion wasn't letting up. Basil sighs, using the back of his hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. How long has he stayed up? A yawn left him, Basil shaking his head to wake himself up. His eye settles on the flowers beside him, and he can't help but smile. It was a bundle of lilacs that had recently arrived. That's what he was digging a hole for-Basil was eager to plant them. Basil has always been excited when a new shipment arrives, especially when it involves flowers.

Carefully, he picks up the flowers. He was careful with removing the flowers from the pot-not wanting to break the stems. His fingers trace the small purple petals. A hum rumbled in his throat, setting the roots into the hole. Basil holds the flowers with one hand and uses the other to cover the bottom half with soil. Basil made sure the flowers were okay before getting up. Basil gives a glance at the garden-proud of the progress of the garden. When he first arrived, it was dead and overgrown with weeds. Over time, Basil worked nonstop to make it perfect. To make the gardens beautiful once again after years of neglect. He was grateful to the royal family for allowing him to stay. Crazy as it may sound, Basil could hear the flowers cry out to him. So, he took care of it. He bends down to grab the empty pot and wraps his arms around it to secure it. Basil gives one last look at the planted lilacs before heading to the shed in the garden. The man opens the shed's door by using his elbow to push it. He sets the pot down on the table beside the others. Next, he took off his gloves and placed them on the same table. A tired huff left him, and he pushed his bang to the side to wipe his forehead.

"Basil! Basil!" A familiar voice called out to him, the man confused as to why they were screaming. They sound angry. Disappointed as well. Did he do something that he wasn't supposed to? "Where on earth is that man?!?" Basil blinks a couple of times before leaving the shed. "I'm here!" He replied to the person shouting at him. The servant he was speaking with has been here for longer, so it's customary to give respect to them. Seeing the servant approach, a frown heavy on her face.

"There you are, and you're all dirty!" Flaying her hands in the air dramatically. Basil tilts his head, unable to understand why she's upset with him. His mouth part to say something until she grabbed his wrist. "I know you stayed up late too. Do you ever take care of yourself, Basil?" A shake of her head made his brows lower-not out of anger but disappointment. "I stayed up late before? What makes it any different now?" Being tugged inside the castle and headed to the servant quarters. He looks around, noticing the urgency in every servant's face. The one pulling him stops and turns to face him. She sighs, annoyed at the forgetful man, "The masquerade ball? Did you forget again?" Basil looks down at the ground and his feet while his brain sets the pieces. A masquerade ball? No, it was THE ball. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I, uh, did forget." His voice stumbles out his lips, and his eyes move to stare out the window that faces out to the garden. "A new shipment of flowers recently arrived, so I had stayed up late to plant them. I just got done with the shipment minutes prior."

The anger left her face-it was hard to be mad at him for so long. "Alright, you were just doing your job, but you can't neglect yourself like that." Basil looks up, nodding his head, and a smile creeps on his face, "I understand, and it won't happen again." She gave Basil an affirmative nod, examining him for a few seconds before speaking again, "Go wash and get your suit. I'm sure that you have forgotten that you were invited personally by the royal family." Oh, that's right. They did invite him. His heart beats at the thought of his friends who took the time to allow him to participate. Not as a servant but as a friend. "Alright, wash and put my...-" his voice stilled, panic-filled eyes staring at the fellow servant, "-I forgot about my suit." The other was stunned and processed his words. How forgot to pick it up at the tailor's yesterday. He said that he would pick it up along with the flowers. Oh, dear. His upper teeth sink into his lips while panic fills the entirety of his body. What would they think? Would Mir, Zak, Salen, and Kris be made at him? Tears of fear form in his eyes, making the servant in front of him panic. "No! It's okay, Basil! Take deep breaths. I'm sure we'll figure something out." Basil nods his head while wiping the tears off. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll go ask around for help."

Basil smiles, glad to have someone there to help him, but he feels terrible. She shouldn't work hard to fix his problem. People have already done enough for him. He shakes his head, denying her help. "I'm fine. You get yourself ready. I'll figure something out myself." She hesitated to leave, but she did with reluctance. He waited for her to turn the corner before dashing to his room-accidentally bumping into busy servants in the halls. He was quick to apologize, but they paid no mind to him. Crashing inside his room, slamming the door behind him, and pants. Basil waits for his breath to catch up with him. His heart thunders in his chest, "Clothes. Fancy clothes. Party clothes." Rushing to his closet, close to pulling the closet doors off their hinges. His hands sort the clothes with his eye inspecting each one. That's when he spots it-the dress Mircea gifted him long ago. He never had a reason to wear it, but now it might be the time. "I can't put it on. Not while covered in filth."

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

The dress fitted him perfectly. It clung to his body perfectly, and he couldn't help but smile. They did so much for him. Their actions make Basil even more determined to repay all the favors. A knock came at his door, "Come in." He says-the door opening steadily. Walking in was the servant from before. "I came to check o-," her voice went quiet while staring at Basil in the dress. Basil doesn't know why, but he felt awkward. He slumps, "Does it look bad?"

She shakes her head, "No, Basil. It looks beautiful on you. Can I-" her voice riddled with uncertainty, "-help you with the rest?" Basil smiles brightly, his eye beaming with joy. "Of course, you can! Thanks, Julia." Julia chuckles, approaching Basil to help him get everything ready. "At least you remember my name." Basil goes over to the chair in the corner, staring out the window that overlooks the garden. Julia grabs his brush from the table that sits next to his bed. She undoes his hair and brushes his hair. The two were quiet. His room was too. The only sounds were coming from the halls that were swarming with people. "Hey, Basil." "Yes, Julia?" Filling the silence in the room, Basil wondered what she was going to say. "Do you know how to curtsy? Let alone dance? Or formal greetings direction to royals?" Those three questions made Basil's eyes widen. "Son of shasta daisy! No, I don't." His right leg starts to bounce when nervousness swarms the man's head, and Julia frowns heavily.

"You hang around royals, and you don't know simple court manners? How do you address the King and Queen?" Basil is trying to remember what he calls the parents of his friends. "I call them by nicknames, but I made sure to add their titles are the beginning." Julia nods, "That's good that you still formally call them. For the other royalties or royalties in general, you call them: your majesty, your royal highness, my queen, my king-" Basil zones while Julia is talking, his face stony as he tries to remember the first word she said. She kept on when formalities, but seeing Basil disoriented made her sigh. "Did you get all of that?" "Can you repeat the first word you said?" Basil sheepishly replied. Julia stops her brushing and raises a brow, "You don't even remember the first words that I said, didn't you?" Basil shook his head, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat with his cheeks flushed.

Julia places the brush back on the table. She goes back over to stand in front of Basil, her fingers tracing his features. "Do you have any accessories and make-up? When done with dressing you up, I'll show you the basics of courtly manners." Basil gives her a grateful smile, nodding his head with a thrill in his eye. He was excited about everything going on. For the next few hours, she helped him get ready for the masquerade ball. Julia covers him in make-up, expensive-looking jewelry, and additional pieces of clothing. She worked non-stop while educating Basil-this time, he was paying attention. Basil did have to suppress his laughter when she was putting make-up on, but he held firmly onto his laughter to hold still. Julia takes a step back, admiring her work and the man sitting in the chair. "It's like I'm helping my sister with her wedding. Oh, Basil! You better not get married anytime soon!" Basil shakes his head and stands up. He gives her a large smirk-playfulness in his eye. "Nonsense, Julia. My heart belongs to the royal garden and nothing more." Julia walks over, firmly placing her hands on his shoulders. "As I said, you better not get married. Better yet, don't have a crush on anyone. Actually, don't interact with people in general-stick to yourself." Basil sighs, disheartened at the rules-he shouldn't break them. He wasn't too upset. Basil finds talking to strangers in masks too stressful anyway.

Basil rises to his feet and holds out his hand for her to take. "Do you want to escort me to the ballroom? I want to check on the progress of the ballroom. Everyone worked hard to make it possible, so I want to thank them all." Julia grins, wrapping her arm around Basil's instead. "Of course, shall we Basil?" Basil adjusts his mask, letting Julia lead him to the ballroom.

The servants in the halls stopped and gawked at Basil as he walked passed. Basil thanked the other servants for their hard work, which affected the morale immensely. Basil and Julia walked together with their arms linked-they walked in silence. The only time they spoke is Basil when he gives thanks to the servants for their work. Entering the ballroom made Basil's eye widen in marvel at the sheer beauty of this place. Though, he frowns at the sloppiness of the flower arrangements. "Excuse me." He removes himself from her arm, marching over to the tables on the side of the dance floor, and arranges the flowers himself. He couldn't help it-it's his instincts. Julia sighed-a smile on her pale face. Truly. His obsession with flowers is adorable to see. "Even the flowers on the pillars are messed up!" He tosses his arms in the air, storming over to fix the mentioned flowers. She lets him rearrange the flowers before calling out to him. "Basil? Don't you think it's time to meet up with the others?" Basil stops and stares at the flowers wrapped around the pillar. What would they think? Would they be disgusted with what he's wearing? He was nervous about meeting with his friends-especially dressed up like this.

"I guess I can go see them. Will-will they hate it?" Nervously stroking the petals with his cheeks and ears bright red, "What if they hate what I'm wearing? I never wore a dress before." Julia walks over to him, gently grabbing his hand. "Basil, I'm sure all of them will love it. No need to be worried about anything." She smiles at him to reassure Basil, and it worked. Julia tugs him out of the ballroom, escorting him to the royal hall. "I'm not permitted to enter these halls. I have to leave you alone and finish the rest of my work. Good luck, Basil." She bows before leaving the nervous Basil alone.

Who should he meet up with first? Mir and Zak are busy having their secret-couple squabbles. They tried to hide it, but Basil has a keen eye for that sort of stuff. Salen? That's not possible. She's too busy picking up her brother's slack-like always. The Golden Child, Salen, is also a workaholic. Kris, perhaps? That's a hard no. The man might be asleep on anything that isn't his bed. Although, he's curious if he'll ever find Kris sleeping in the bathtub. He swears that the royal children must've hit their heads on something when they were born. All three of them are strange, but he enjoys their strangeness. Basil stands there, patiently waiting for the others to arrive.

The ginger-haired princess looked up at the castle, face carefully set in a neutral expression. She didn't know what she was expecting, standing directly beneath the towering piece of architecture. That castle housed her kingdoms fate, inside that castle housed those that could decide the fate of all that still withstood the chilling grip of the Empire of Edyss.

The thought chilled her, how much power only a few people could hold in their palms.

The blue and silver dress that she'd chosen to wear for the ball clung to her body, silver pattersn lined her shoulders, her bodice, abdomen and down her thighs, with some more of the silver patterns down by her wrists, her bodice and abdomen were housed in a silver corset, whilst the rest of her body was housed in a semi-translucent blue material. It was translucent enough to clearly see the tattoos that lined her arms, hands, fingers before it disappeared beneath the silver across her shoulders and abdomen, before it became clear again at her hips and legs.

Her hands and wrists were adorned in silver jewellery, patterend metal dancing across her wrists and the back of her hands, attached by metal chains around her limbs and attached to the fake metal claws upon her fingers. Her hair was left down, reaching mid-thigh length, but adorned with a jewelled headdress of silver and pale opal, while her mask was a thing of beauty. Silver with patterns matching her headdress and hand jewellery with thin chains hanging off of it.

Blue and silver made her prominent features pop out--her extremely bright red hair, and the silver made her eyes look especially bright.

Sori felt a little bad for not wearing the colors of her kingdom or any brooches with their symbol on them, but she wished to not be eye-catching, someone to stare at. Pretty people got attention, people that got attention got information, and information, about anything, would be useful. She was in a city that she didn't know, a kingdom foriegn to her own, a place that she knew no one and everyone seemed to know her.

She shoved the anxiety crawling under her skin further down, bringing her face into a gentle smile towards someone passing, before turning to look at her family, their soldiers and their servant, waiting for one or more of them to join her before she entered the castle.