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Darkseeker
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Kagha
Twenty-Four || Male || House Talmeren - "The Pale Bear" || Kaghan Commander || Acilia It had been a long time since he'd talked to anyone outside of the castle. It had been a long time since he'd so much as seen a newcomer, but there was something in faces like those that made him almost immediately notice them- there was just something different, an air of wandering rather than walking with purpose. And, of course, they often had no idea who he was. The woman he had just cornered... she had no recognition.
He could use that. He heard the rumors from Orin and the Empire. He was called the "Snow Bear" from those who didn't know him- they had heard that he was the youngest Kaghan Commander, but evidently, this didn't lessen his reputation- they seemed to insist that he must be the most vicious, the most dangerous, and the strongest commander Kagha had ever harbored. Not a man, but a thing, and a thing that kills with no sentiment, no conscience. It was said that his icy appearance was what caused his frigid, austere personality, and that his single dark quality, his right eye, allows him to see straight into the souls of others. Now, much of this was the truth deformed into bent, twisted lies. But if one had heard them, they would know what he looked like, what he seemed like, almost instantly. Alas, it was dark in these hallways, his features well-hidden behind walls devoid of candles. He was glad for that. It meant that, of all things, it would be harder to put the myth to the face, had she ever heard it. Or perhaps, she had heard very little, instead using her better judgement to deduce the danger of this man holding a knife at her throat. His eyes glinted with anger as he heard her speak. Who was she to speak to him so? He had been fooled before. He knew better than to fall into the trap of a game that would last his lifetime. But as soon as his eyes shifted, the hint of his anger was gone. He would have to play this game of chess where they were the knights, but he would not be the one to lose. "You are the perfect woman for accompaniment, my Lady," he spoke, voice rumbling quietly. "Perhaps this is a date then, no?" She shifted in his grip, but he made sure to maintain his stance, ending up in what, to any onlookers, might have seemed like a peculiar sort of embrace. He carefully watched her eyes through the mask she wore, waiting for an expression to cross her features. It may have taken a moment, but ah- there it was. Contempt. Thought. The look of a mercenary, it seems. There was something he couldn't place about this woman that made her seem so different from the others he'd met, and perhaps... perhaps it was the look of a warrior, strange on the face of someone under the guise of an innocent. Or perhaps it was that, somehow, he knew there was something similar they shared. There were not many women who had shared in the traits he may have always known. He froze as her fingers traced down his arm. What was she doing? Tightening his grip on the dagger, he met her gaze and challenged it fully, eyes brimming with fire. Were she to continue at thinking him to be a fool, she'd find herself dead. He did not recognize her, so it was unlikely that the Venturis would either. Which meant they would have no problem, should a woman they'd likely never heard of end up on the recieving end of Ka's short fuse. She was playing at a dangerous game with a dangerous man, but he knew better than to think she underestimated him. There was something cunning in the way she spoke to him, the way she tried to manipulate him. She was no idiot. His mind stayed alert as he watched her, felt her draw him closer. She was playing him. Was she playing him? For a moment, a brief moment, he couldn't tell. No. I cannot lose in this game of win or die. "I can be more entertaining, should you prefer me to be." His mouth quirked mischeviously, eyes sparkling as he heard the forced tone she adopted. Ah, but it is enjoyable to play. "Then you are a cunning lion, are you not? Ah, but there is quite the amusement in restraint." Leaning closer, he whispered into one of her ears. "After all, the most fun is had when there is something forbidden." He could feel her heart racing through her chest, skin warm against his own. It was not an uncomfortable warmth, no- more something that he could tolerate, as if he was near firewood burning in the midst of a snowstorm. She was ignoring the effect he had on her, he could tell. Many knights would not have so aptly held their place in a game of wits. Many knights wouldn't have known- she wrapped her arms around his back, and for a moment, just a moment, his thoughts scattered. A brief, concise phrase took their place: Perhaps you, too, are ignoring the effect she has on you. The realization was enough to bring him back into reality, and he pulled her close so that there was no space left between them. He watched her face as his dagger slid deeper, but not fatally; red blood welled up in thanks to the new cut, barely bubbling over the blade. And his eyes darted to the side as he heard footsteps down the corridor. The person, whoever it was, could be anyone. To anyone but a servant, an interaction such as this would seem... suspicious. Uncalled for. They would look over, and, curious, move to investigate. Who would they believe, were either of them to speak? He would have little excuse, should anyone question him for his actions. From what he had heard the gardener say, there would be nothing to make it seem as if his actions were just. Of course, there was another way to handle the matter... the same way someone, anyone, would possibly believe two people were as physically close as they were, watching each other and seeming to be whispering sweet nothings, as they were so clearly participating in. And so, ignoring the many flags that popped up in his head, he told himself to be discreet, to have a reason, and he kissed her. He forced himself to relax his grip- against his better judgement, it seemed- so as to look less rigid, as if he wasn't holding a dagger to the woman's throat. Despite the implications of this obviously intimate interaction, his eyes stared icicles into the face before him. At first, he had little emotion other than hate. Hate for how she'd treated someone such as Mircea's adoptive brother. But whoever it was walked slowly, shoes going tap-tap-tap as they made contact with the stone floor, and it was reasonable... with the way her heart raced , and how long it had been since he'd been this near anyone... that he lost his grip on control, just for a second. A small, brief second. Seconds felt like hours. Hours felt like days. And days... they felt like weeks. He was starting to get annoyed. The person walking beyond them was clearly taking their time, possibly watching the scene unfold before them. Just to spite whoever it happened to be, he drew away and pointedly gave the person- a curious young squire, it seemed- a look that would scare even the most fearless of men. One will always believe a man is who he is. As soon as he saw the male retreat, he turned back to the woman in front of him, staring at her with the same gaze, one of an unbiased desire to murder. His hands only returned to their tense state, waiting for her to draw a blade to react appropriately. At her next words, though, he only laughed. "You would like to know my name, would you not? It is the name of the kingdom you currently inhabit, darling. Whether I am for or against the Empire is something for you to decipher." Something was wrong with his head, it seemed. He sounded like a lunatic, what was he doing? He could feel his grip on the game of cat and mouse slipping, his mind taking stance on the side that preferred she leave his sight than anything else. And she was playing it to her advantage, he could tell. But he was not about to let himself be fooled. "I seek no recognition." His face, now pale and emotionless, watched hers. He smirked; such repetition of the words had seemed to make her uncomfortable. And her lack of care for those around the castle... only made his smirk grow wider. "You have very little idea of what you have gotten yourself into, little lion. Perhaps I am a soldier, perhaps I am not. But it is likely that you will soon find out." Don't tell me you never had dark thoughts swarming in your head. Her words echoed in his mind, and he couldn't help but stop to think on them, for a moment. She had no idea who he was, and so, no idea of what he'd done. He'd had many dark thoughts, far too many. More than most. Had he less patience than many citizens, his arm would have let down, his gaze averting from her own. But he was strong. He would not back down. He was ready for the ball, the knights were ready. The princes and princess could handle themselves. He would not be missed. And so continued the game of watching in silence, waiting for one to speak, watching the other's actions with caution. "Do you suppose you have won your game, little lion? I do not fear you." They returned to their silence, and he stood there, same as he had been as the sun was setting, unmoving, stance unbroken. It was a peculiar silence, as she watched him, and he watched her. Their eyes were focused, staring, not wanting to break the gaze of the other, to submit to a dominance that was not their own. It was slightly uncomfortable, really. It gave him a chance to think on the conversation- the manipulation- that had just transpired. He would not let himself fall. He hated but also desired her. It was not just him feeling discomfort; her guise was slipping as well, he noticed. She was tense. Curt. She did not expect him to be able to wait so long, perhaps. He laughed, a fiendish, dark laugh. "Even if we are finished, I am not the only one to be curious about your thoughts of the servants." He quickly pulled away, bringing his foot around to snap her heels out from beneath her. A smirk graced his face, and he stared her down, eye to eye, gaze as cold as ice. Go ahead and try to win against me, Acilia Lucius. |
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Darkseeker
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Sori Rye Thezmaer 21 | Female | Princess of Orin | Mentions: Zak, Mirian, Mircea, Kristopher, Edrys, Randolph, Queen[NPC], NPC's The Princess felt her muscles relax as tension slowly faded out of her body, smile turned wide and charming once again, blue gaze returning to their job of discreetly studying those around her. No longer prying for the first signs of aggression, from either party, they were able to properly take in the Princes attire, and she barely stifled her small giggle. It was an attire that would offend many of the courtiers back at her own kingdom, surely. Lord Mircea Rosenburg was one to be careful of, she'd already seen that much. He seemed smart, observant, seeing things that didn't need or want to be seen. She watched the way eyes lingered on her family, the way they caught on her mother, the way they caught and narrowed on Edrys. The knight would have to be on thin ice for the duration of their stay, she feared, or else their stay may be cut short, or be more unpleasant than anyone anticipated. The last thing needed was a Kagha Prince killing an Orin Knight, or worse, the other way around. It would ruin all chances of an alliance if an Orin Knight killed a Kagha Prince. They'd get thrown out of their lands, or cast into war, or even executed on the spot. Sori stepped away from Edrys to allow the knight to complete her assigned duties, before she turned her head towards the Prince Zacharius. The tour would begin right away, apparently, and the ginger princess wormed her way out of her fathers grip and pranced forward to be beside her sister as Prince Zacharius began walking. "We should watch Lord Mircea Rosenburg and Prince Zacharius," she muttered softly, taking short steps to make sure her and Mirian could keep in time together. "The Royal Guard specifically, he sees too much," her voice dropped to a whisper, leaning over to her sister to make sure they weren't overheard, words only for her ears. "I hope to keep them occupied so that they won't pay too much attention to our parents." They see too much. She leaned away, flashing Mirian a charming smile as if she'd just told her sister one of their classic sarcastic remarks, before pacing off ahead to walk almost beside the Prince Zacharius. She stayed just slightly behind his shoulder, letting him lead where they were going. "You seem to care a lot for your people, Your Highness," she said, tilting her head as she listened to his words. The people are the heart of the castle and the lands, it was an interesting take, although not one that she hadn't contemplated before. It was one she didn't often hear spoken aloud. Many courtiers liked to pretend they were better than the common person, simply because of their rank. Without the common folk, there would be no kingdom to run. The inside of the castle was beautiful, to say the least. Her steps stuttered when she truly took in the interior. Hues of red and gold lined everywhere the eyes could see, walls of beige coment, floors of brilliant tile, and she could barely stop herself from reaching out and touching one of the intricately carved pillars, her hand twisting at her side. They were telling stories? Stories set in stone, stories told from stone, stories that the Kagha people held so dear to them that only stone could capture their permanence? "Would you be inclined to tell us some of your kingdoms legends and stories, Prince Zacharius?" She asked softly, leaving room for him to back out if he wished it, eyes tracing the carved patterns in the pillars. "We could trade legends and stories, if that fits you more, Your Highness," she added, flashing him a smile over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the decorative castle. Kagha was secretive, she was near desperate to learn whatever she could about them. She couldn't tell if it was genuine curiosity, or the curiosity she'd forced upon herself to protect her mother and gather information about the strange, closed-off kingdom. Sori followed the prince over towards a large window, risking a glance outside and being knocked nearly breathless at the beauty of it. The Kagha people were below, dancing and twirling with ribbons and bright colors. She could practically hear the laughter, the singing, the music, she could feel the thrum of the earth where feet dashed against it in harmony, as if the ground beneath her had its own heartbeat. The ginger princess blinked away the phantom feelings, looking over to where the prince had gone now, following him over towards one of the doors. She took the opporunity to peer into the rooms that would be deemed fit for her mother and father, signalling to one of the nearby knights. "You, Sir Tamar, another soldier and two servants will stay here with the King and Queen, am I understood?" She ordered softly, watching the blond man nod. "If they ask you to guard outside their rooms then do so, but you will not leave them alone unless otherwise ordered." The ginger princess, acutely aware of how close she was to the prince, walked closer to her parents, feigning checking on them, before nodding for the knight to follow her. "When the Prince is no longer here, I want you to search the rooms for any potential dangers," she muttered, watching the knight nod again, before she truly turned her attention to her parents. "I've asked Sir Tamar, another soldier and two servants to stay here with you, as Dame Edrys and her squire will be attending the tour with Mirian and I," she explained to her father and mother, smiling gently. "I've also asked Sir Tamar to check the rooms when Prince Zacharius leaves with us," she added, softer than before, her smile not dropping. Then, as if she were just talking with her parents about casual things in such a casual manner, Sori straightened up and stepped away, giving space for her mother to move towards their rooms. Gods knew how exhausted the Queen must have been with the journey and her sickness. The quicker she could move the Prince along with the tour, the quicker she could get his perceptive eyes away from the Queen, and the sooner she could rest. "What is this fun part you have in store for us, Your Highness?" She asked, smile overtaking her lips as she moved towards him to let him hear her. "I do hope that it's as fun as you've advertised." Just as the words left her lips, the Princess looked up and saw Mircea Rosenburg, the princes personal guard, approaching, and caught his daring words. One of her hands lifted to her lips, covering the way her grin grew, and instead shifted her eyes over to the other male. Slightly taller than Prince Zacharius, but with the same features--undoubtedly the Prince Kristopher, the younger prince of the Venturi Household. Sori turned towards them both and gave them a polite curtsey, darting her eyes down and finding Lord Rosenburg was no longer in his Orin boots. |
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Neutral
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Mirian Orianna Thezmaer 23 | F | Princess of Orin | Mentions: Zak, Sori For the first time in her life, Mirian was thankful for having siblings who were taller than she was. Otherwise she would have had a hard time keeping up with the crown prince, their over six-inch difference in height corresponding to a similarly dramatic disparity in stride length. But the years chasing after her tall siblings and even taller father meant that she naturally tended towards a faster gait than the average person favored. As the little group set off for the entrance to the castle proper, the prince began his tour by denigrating his home, the building he grew up in, and instead recommended visiting the town below. He made rather pointed eye contact with Mirian as he said this, and she wondered what he was trying to communicate to her. Was he suggesting that the Orin royalty were not his equals, and he regarded them instead on the same level as his subjects? Or was he simply attempting to display his pride for his people? Mirian didn’t know, and settled for returning his glance with a neutral expression. She felt her sister brush up beside her, and grudgingly turned her head so they were face-to-face. "We should watch Lord Mircea Rosenburg and Prince Zacharius. The Royal Guard specifically, he sees too much. I hope to keep them occupied so that they won't pay too much attention to our parents." Sori’s words were quiet, solely for Mirian’s ears. The message was finished with a bright smile, as if Sori had said something particularly witty. Mirian resisted the urge to respond by sticking her tongue out, and instead acknowledged the advice with a nod. I guess the man with the Orin boots must have been this Royal Guard fellow. Don’t worry dear sister, I’m sure I can come up with something that will be both distracting for our hosts and possibly informative for us, she muttered internally. While Sori strode ahead to catch up with the prince, Mirian allowed herself to fall back in step with their parents. As they passed beneath the massive entryway to the palace, the prince began walking backwards so he could maintain eye contact with his guests and presumably better hear any questions or comments they might direct towards him. Mirian amused herself by imagining the prince backing into a nearby pillar and being knocked off his feet, before having the better idea to imagine him whacking into one of the banquet tables and falling down on his ass, with food covering his obnoxiously shiny outfit. But alas, the prince was able to navigate his way to their quarters without incident. Along the way Mirian listened as Sori started putting her patented charm to work on Prince Zacharius, buttering him up in an attempt to get something to slip. The way she’s flirting, you’d think she was the one who might be betrothed to him at the end of the night, Mirian thought with some amusement. Well she’s welcome to him. I’ll gladly stay back in Orin and rule. Tuning out Sori’s chatter, Mirian allowed her eyes to rove over the castle’s decor. It was all shiny tile and carved stone, grand windows and high ceilings. It was too big, too bright, and too harsh for Mirian’s taste. She much preferred the lush tapestries and dark, carved wood of the Orin palace, through which Orin told its own fantastic stories against the backdrop of flickering flames. Its halls were dim and cozy, edges softened by the light from the blue and green stained glass inset in the small round windows. The only redeeming features were the tasteful bouquets of flowers placed every so often along their route. There were two displays flanking the doors to her parents’ suite, and Mirian allowed herself to drift over and enjoy the blooms from a closer vantage point. The scents of marigold and amaryllis washed over her, and if she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she was roaming through the forests of Orin. The sound of approaching footsteps broke through her daydream, and she turned to see Lord Rosenburg returning to their group with another man in tow. Between the man’s ridiculous height and opulent attire, Mirian had a sinking feeling that she was about to meet another member of the Kaghan royal family. “Now, any takers for the fun part?” The elder prince’s voice cut through her gloomy thoughts. Mirian opened her mouth to reply, but Sori beat her to it. I guess I’m along for this ride whether I want to be or not, she thought with a quiet yet resigned sigh. Mirian walked forward so she stood alongside her sister, then inclined her head slightly in the barest affectation of a bow. “Lord Rosenburg, I’m glad you were able to get ready in time to join us for the rest of the tour. I am most interested to hear another foreigner’s take on the seat of power in Kagha.” Mirian watched him closely, pale eyes searching for any twitch of his face that might tell her something about the man’s past, and how he had come by a pair of Orin boots yet was also in service to the Kaghan crown. The only good thing about having Sori here is that she’s much better at reading faces than I am. With any luck she’ll catch anything I might miss from him. Mirian held back a grimace at the surge of jealousy that arose whenever she admitted Sori was better than her, even if only to herself. She then switched her gaze to the newcomer. “And who might your companion be? Can we assume he will also be attending the ball tonight?” Her eyes traced the golden horns adorning his mask. “It would be a shame if I had to hunt him down later for a dance.” She smiled wolfishly, eyes glittering with the idea of cutting a member of Kaghan royalty down to size. |
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Lightbringer
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Randolph Cornelius Thezmaer | 53 years | Male | King | Orin | Mentions: Moriah, Zacharius, Sori, Mirrian, Edrys Randolph stretched slightly, but stopped early, because of the crowd watching him. He took a few steps and rolled his neck trying to relieve the stiffness. Unfortunately, he couldn’t waggle his aching hips in front of everyone that was gathering. While he was stretching, he realized that his wife must not be feeling well. She hadn’t told him what to do in a few minutes, and she had been very quiet on the ride over. Most recently, she hadn’t insisted to go on the tour with them. His eyes snapped over to his daughter Sori. She was excusing someone. For what? His eyes narrowed as he studied the person who had made a social gaffe. He let Sori speak, as he was still glaring during this time. He was willing to pound anyone who thought that Orinians couldn’t be trusted, but he knew that most people didn’t consider that suffice to convince them. He smiled down at his daughter. “A tour would be lovely.” He didn’t take much notice of anyone’s clothing, especially someone who wasn’t a royal. The boots that were surely from his kingdom were completely missed by him. It seemed they were in agreement. A tour must happen. As they were standing there it finally clicked for him. Zacharius’ attire was appalling, and it lit a fire in the elder royal’s heart. He felt heat surging through him from his core to his limbs. He imagined strangling the royal who had had the nerve to give him an unpleasant look and then wipe it from his face. The whelp didn’t deserve to go around being rude and simply step into a high rank. He should have to earn it, and he had the nerve to waltz around in attire that underscored his contempt for the Orin kingdom. Perhaps he should’ve reigned in Edrys, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. There it was again! That prince was giving him that expression again! Except…why would he be trying to go right here and right now? That didn’t make sense. It must be haughtiness or something similar. He whispered something about it to his wife in a way that no one else could over hear. She rolled her eyes in a way that told Randolph he needed to chill out and let it go. He tensed and wanted to stick his hands into his clothing. He would assume that the Kaghan royals and anyone else would know that he was carrying, but he didn’t want them to know exactly where until after he had attacked. The tension loosened enough that he managed to restrain his fingers from searching for the weapons on his person. As he peered about staring at the red, he felt like he was being shown a lot of blood. He forgot what red normally symbolized, but the red everywhere reminded him of blood and violence. It was a decent place nonetheless although he disliked the decor. He was pleased when they finally reached their rooms and a little bored by this time. What else were they going to do to kill time? They didn’t want to sit at some sitting area and have to chat until the ball began. He easily kept up and almost scoffed the young prince for being such a slow walker. While some might've been more distracted by the intricate detail, after the first initial impression Randolph concentrated on seeing what their defenses were like. He didn't find much of anything new, but he thought it might be worth a shot. “I hope their servants didn’t leave bedbugs on the bedsheets,” he whispered to no one in particular. “I suppose it’ll have to do.” He knew that his children were accustomed to him complaining regardless of whether he should or not. He turned surprised to see Sori and gave her a fatherly smile. “Enjoy yourself on the tour my dear.” He had wanted to see the tour, but he began to feel guilty leaving his wife. Would she be safe here? After all, he was one of the best hand to hand fighters in his kingdom. She shouldn't be safer anywhere else than by his side. His guards hadn't even gotten a chance yet to scout the room out and decide how safe it was. Moriah noticed his look and gently touched them on the arm. “Why don’t you go with them. I’d like to make sure that everything gets delivered here properly and organized well.” He gave a smirk. “We wouldn’t want them to be without…proper supervision.” Moriah’s glare shut him up from making further comments in that direction. “That princeling’s clothing. Sheesh. I’m surprised at children these days. Hmmm. I wonder what would be the best way to get him to stop wearing those clothes,” he conferred quietly with his wife. She stared at him with a deadpan expression clearly either trying to remain subtle or embarrassed by her husband’s thought process. “I know how kids are. If you tell them that you don’t like something, they are more than delighted to continue doing it. But what if I did something so he saw how unsavory it is.” He was quiet and thoughtful before he continued. “I could wear something similar to it. I could admire it, and once he saw old beautiful me in it, I’m sure it’d change his mind.” From reactions he had gotten in the past, his children didn’t want to see him showing off too much skin. Randolph was starting to smile, and Moriah moved away from him. It was clear from her body language that she disapproved heavily, but she was apparently going to let him make a fool of himself by himself. “So Zacharius…lovely costume you have there. What inspired the design? Who created it? It is fashion that I wouldn’t mind trying out sometime.” He stopped short realizing that the conversation had gone on without him, and he wasn't sure what they had changed the topic to. Nobody seemed in a hurry to move, but Randolph could see the fatigue in his wife's posture. To get them out, he started to blab. "Come, come. Children these days are so out of shape. It really is a pity. Nobody works near as hard as I do. Once, I had to carry this man off of a battlefield. It took a long time as I had to dodge people and fend enemies off, as I made my way to the medics. I want a nice brisk tour. A touch of exercise after sitting in the carriage all day will do me good. I'd love to stretch my legs, but I'm afraid if Zacharius here continues to dally about we'll never get to see the tour." He stared deeply into Zacharius' eyes, "Are you stalling for some nerfarious plan or perhaps you are too out of breath and you thought some conversation would give you a chance to rest your legs? Really, I don't think children nowadays are given the proper training. I doubt you Kaghans could carry a man around all day," he scoffed. "I bet you sleep in and don't get up and train. |
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Neutral
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Zacharius Venturi 26 :: Masculine :: Prince of Kagha :: Mentions: Mircea, Kristopher, Orin Royals [dir], Basil, Salen, Nikolas [ind] Once again, the only settled entertainment that didn’t cross any boundaries came from Sori. Her sister, Mirian, seemed to be off in her own land, judging every bit of the castle that Zacharius had undoubtedly hyped up as they walked through it. The Queen and her son were awfully quiet, which killed Zacharius’ talkative mood. The son just looked to be observing every possible thing, while the Queen seemed to be trying to refrain from doing something. She had that kind of twitch of her thumbs that Zacharius had when he was refraining from a habit. Speaking of the Queen. Zacharius didn’t want to seem like his eyes were straying, but every now and again he would glance back down at the Queen, who kept a solid gaze on him- or was it past him? He honestly couldn’t tell sometimes. What he could tell, was the deliberately and harshly obvious stare that the King was giving him. Those judgmental blue eyes made Zacharius want to cover himself up with his hands. He never felt so insecure, but an old man staring at you so intently ought to do it. Zacharius couldn’t help but notice the King leaning over to mutter something in his Queen’s ear. He’s so talking about me. He caught the King side-eyeing him. The guy wasn’t even subtle in the slightest. In a way, he amused Zak. He had never come across someone so… is there even a word for this old man? Zacharius was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the King’s voice, which was finally addressed to him. It must have felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders when you asked those questions. Zacharius couldn’t help but let a strangled chuckle leave him, it nearly broke into a hearty laugh before he managed to rein it in and control himself. The mere thought of this man in Zacharius’s clothing was nightmare fuel. “I would love to have some tailored for you, but I fear you would scar my kingdom- and your daughters.” Zacharius’s amused smile was spreading ear to ear as he continued. Now, Zacharius had two options. Toy with the guy or tell the honest truth. The little angelic Salen on his left shoulder nagged him to be respectful and answer truthfully…. But the little Kristopher holding a pitchfork on his right shoulder was a lot more convincing. “It was inspired by a lack of clothing, actually-“ Zacharius was about to continue when a sparkle of gold caught his eye. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Zak brought his attention to it. Ten hells. He barely recognized Mircea. Let alone the tall green blob standing beside him. Mircea looked at least a few inches taller and sported the most complementary dress that Zak had ever seen on a woman. Man. On a man. Who could blame him, it was hard to tell at this point. Mircea was already born with feminine genes, and now he’s dressed like the fairest lady in all the lands. He looked like he just got out of a bath made from liquid gold… Kristopher looked alright too. Next to Mircea, Kristopher looked more like a shadow than a prince. I’m way better dressed than Kristopher. Seeing Kristopher brought Zak back into reality as he cleared his throat. This whole gaping ordeal only lasted a few moments as he brought his eyes back to the King and continued. “Speak of the devil, Kristopher actually had it made for me. This whole fit was for the younger Prince but the tailor who made it for him didn’t realize Kristopher’s…” Zak feigned confusion, acting as if he couldn’t find the words as he tilted his head and slightly scrunched his face. “Let’s just say lack of upper body strength, bulkiness, and overall appearance to pull off the look,” Zacharius’s tone was comfortable as he bore a look of pity while staring at his younger brother. After the words left his mouth, a devious look crossed his eyes as he met Kristopher’s stare. This was just the beginning of their endless bullying that they’d drag each other through. Zacharius was undoubtedly going to drag Mircea along with it, he’d just have to dodge those deadly heels every now and again. Zacharius’ attention was brought back to the blindingly stunning Mircea, who taunted him. He almost didn’t catch Mircea’s words, even though his eyes were glued to those golden lips. “Oh I was just guessing the whole time,” Zacharius replied sarcastically to Mircea’s statement of him getting lost. “And if you’re so disappointed about the lack of ribbons in my hair then I wouldn’t mind y-“ He managed to stop his instinctive flirting just in time. But damn, did it take a part of his soul with him. Salen would be proud of him for refraining this much. Zacharius remembered who he was accompanying. Who was listening in on his banter. “Where are my manners?” Zacharius flashed a grin as he pulled his attention back to the others. Before he could continue, the eldest sister, Princess Mirian, spoke up. He’d wish she didn’t. Not because he feared for Mircea’s feelings, but because he feared for the Princesses’ safety. He didn’t want Mircea to leave a bad imprint on the royals, hell, half of them were the most judgmental people he has ever encountered and would probably tarnish Mircea’s name in a heartbeat. Zacharius quickly popped in, interrupting what Mircea was probably going to say. “Lord Rosenburg is not a foreigner, Princess Mirian. If you wish, you can further indulge your curiosity of Lord Rosenburg’s wonderous details about his life upon his invitation. Here in Kagha, we tend to stray away from intrusive statements. I don’t blame you though, you are a foreigner,” Zacharius, although he undoubtedly kept his tone even and strayed from a condescending tone, had a certain annoyance in his eyes while addressing the woman. Being rude to him was one thing, but being rude to Mircea was simply out of the question- and no Princess Sori getting between him was going to stop him from addressing such feelings. Brushing off the topic, he lent an ear to King Randolph’s rambling. Luckily, the King’s constant comparison and judgment was the perfect topic they needed to stray from the once more rising tension. Zak managed to take in every detail begrudgingly, a skill learned at the political lessons that were enforced on him. When the king accused him of stalling, Zacharius perked up. “We can head out now, I was hoping to start sooner- before the sparkling menace found his way to us,” Zacharius motioned to Mircea lightly, before beginning to walk again, and yes, backward. He didn’t even realize how the King was stringing him along like a dog. Right now, he was acting as though he was some desperate pup trying to make its owner proud. Why am I so quick to follow his orders? I barely follow my father’s. I doubt you Kaghans could carry around a man all day. On another day, perhaps one that wasn’t as festive as this one, Zak would’ve had mixed emotions about that statement. He has seen far too many battles, which frankly doesn’t add up to his age. He was sent to his first massacre at the age of 16- and that day, he didn’t get to carry any Kaghan soldier. Any alive Kaghan soldier, at least. He would always remember the scenes that plague his memories, but sometimes he manages to forget those thoughts by replacing them with humor, even if it’s briefly. Fortunately, Zacharius was in a giddy mood today and instead took those words as a challenge. Bet. “Surely you can help me tone my crippling legs by allowing me to carry you through this tour,” Zacharius offered, his tone was partly joking- but one could sense the seriousness in it. He would go through with what he had said. Anyone who has known him for more than five minutes would be able to see that. Kristopher knew this firsthand. In fact, Kristopher fed him this kind of habit. The two brothers would always go off on some out-of-the-pocket errand just to prove the other wrong. “I’m a far smoother ride than those horses, anyway,” Even though he was talking to the king, he found his eyes straying back to Mircea, and once he knew that the guy was looking back, he released the smoothest, most seductive wink he could muster. He made his flirtatious maneuver look more like a distant stare to the royals in front of him, only allowing Mircea- and possibly those beside him, to see his motion. The last bit of what the king said was true. Zacharius always slept in and Mircea always had to pour a bucket of cold water on him- because Zacharius would refuse to get up no matter whatever Mircea put him through. In a way, that could be considered training. He has become a professional at tucking his blankets under himself in such a perfect way, that it’s impossible to tug off his warm cocoon of silk. The maids have tried getting him out of his bed in the morning, but ever since he threatened one with their life, they had given up. Of course, Zak never actually ripped someone’s manhood off with his own teeth, but the manservant that nagged him about waking up wouldn’t have known that. Zacharius turned his attention back to Sori, who had offered an exchange of stories. “I’ll take you up on that offer, Princess Sori.” Zacharius held his gaze for a moment before looking to one of the pillars they were passing by. On the bottom of the pillar was a man without his helm, sitting down in an intricate field of bodies and swords. With an ax in one hand, he stared almost defeatedly into nothingness. Next to the pillar, was a portrait of a young man with onyx hair and pale hazel eyes, his complexion was dark, and his overall appearance screamed Kaghan. He had a young spunky look in his eyes given his youth, but still managed to capture an air of authority through the painting. “Every Venturi is recorded in the Kaghan castle. Their stories, their wars, their accomplishments. This one here is Markus Venturi. My great, great uncle. He was killed at the age of 17 at the battle of Xanth, a land foreign to this country. He died a valiant warrior and sacrificed his life for his men without hesitation. He was the heir to the throne, but his younger brother, Maximus Venturi, inherited it after his untimely passing,” Zacharius kept his pace, walking past multiple different portraits, all that none other belonged to the Venturi family. He was positive that he wouldn’t let anything he didn’t want to slip. “Now, it’s your turn, Princess,” Zacharius offered Sori an amused tilt of his head as he awaited her answer. “The royal garden is just down this hallway. I wouldn’t advise flower picking, you’ll be met by an angry blur of a gardener,” Zacharius said teasingly. It was obvious that even in the short matter of time being around the royals, he was loosening up and gaining comfortability. It was something he did to help people also gain a certain sense of security around him and warm up to his cold exterior. The pollen of the royal garden lingered close by, and the smell of hundreds of flowers started to grow stronger. The smell reminded him of Basil, whom he was a tad excited to see. Of course, being friendly to a servant would have the Orin royals look down on him, but Zak just wanted to give Basil a polite greeting. The boy was a little, innocent ray of sunshine. It was like he was born from the flowers himself. Being in Basil’s presence always made Zacharius feel, well, less shitty. Like if he was able to be in the presence of someone so pure, that would slowly lick away at his own sullied history. |
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Agris ‘Blair’ Aivars Bairugih | 20 | M | Gay+Ambi/Poly | Knight | Orin | Mentions; Hyacinth, Sori, Edrys, Kazimir, Mirian, Mircea, Zak, Randolph, Kris, and Queen. Open. Blair wasn’t sure how long exactly they’d been riding for, if he were being honest. Frankly, the dress and mask he’d been forced to wear was taking some getting used to. Though, at least it was covered by a forest green cloak at the moment. Silver linings, as Scarlet would’ve said. He wasn’t one to dress up a lot, but Prince Hyacinth had forced him. Due to wanting to match. A bit foolish, in his opinion. Not like he could judge though, or that he ever would. Voice complaints against a Prince? As if Blair was that stupid. -- Luckily enough though, the castle was starting to come into view. He already knew that Princess Sori would be the first to see it, but he wasn’t too worried all in all. After all, Edrys and Kazimir followed close behind. He was near the back, bringing up the rear with Prince Hyacinth. Which he was almost glad about. Almost. -- When they reached the gates and were greeted by someone apparently named Mircea Rosenburg. Who was a personal knight like himself, and supposedly a noble. Ah well. The knight seemed to have a pair of Orin boots, so there was that. Hopefully he was competent for all that talk of a tour before the stupid event. -- And then one of the Kaghan Princes showed up. Prince Zacharius. Which sounded stupid. Though, Blair assumed he didn’t have room to talk with a name like Agris. So Blair didn’t mention it, and instead watched as the Kaghan Prince seemed to try and rile up his own knight. The entire following exchange was honestly a bit… Unnecessary, if you asked him. The thinly veiled insults, the walking, the forced pleasantries. It was enough to get Blair to roll his eyes a few times. -- So, instead of listening to the conversations going on… Blair turned his attention to taking in the surroundings. The hallways of the castle were practically spotless, organized and polished and… Hectic but not? He wouldn’t say beautiful, he didn’t really care about how ‘pretty’ something was anyways. -- His feet hurt from the heels already. He was skilled enough walking in them, Prince Hyacinth had forced him to practice. They were uncomfortable though. Eventually though, they reached the Queen’s temporary chamber. And that was when things turned interesting. -- Edrys had been starting to get truly worked up by the Lord and Prince. Until the Lord went off and they sent her and Kazimir off to go and find someone who wasn’t a personal knight to guard the Majesties chamber. At which point, Princess Sori was doing her usual routine of kindness and charm. Something he stayed far away from. He didn’t want to risk any chances. He was already closer to Prince Hyacinth than he’d like to be, unfortunately. -- “What is this fun part you have in store for us, Your Highness? I do hope that it's as fun as you've advertised.” -- And then the Lord came back, followed by someone similar enough to be related to Prince Zacharius. So Prince… Christopher? No… It's with a K. So, Kristopher. Well, at least there seemed to be other choices for who Prince Hyacinth could ask to dance with. Because Blair was not looking forward to doing any of that, and the only way he’d be saying yes to anyone? Would be if there was a threat to his life or of treason in the air for if he said no. Which would be the case if a royal happened to ask. -- And why wouldn’t he want to dance, You may be asking. Does he not know how? Well, first off. Fuck you. Yes, he does. But these damned heels made running almost impossible! Did you really expect him to be able to dance in them?! Not happening! Not unless the Prince he was watching over asked. -- “Lord Rosenburg, I’m glad you were able to get ready in time to join us for the rest of the tour. I am most interested to hear another foreigner’s take on the seat of power in Kagha. And who might your companion be? Can we assume he will also be attending the ball tonight? It would be a shame if I had to hunt him down later for a dance.” -- Blair glanced at Princess Mirian, barely suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. She never knew when not to try and start something. Couldn’t she see the odds were in the favor of their hosts? Not them? -- Luckily, Randolph started talking before anything could truly happen. “So Zacharius…lovely costume you have there. What inspired the design? Who created it? It is fashion that I wouldn’t mind trying out sometime.” -- “It was inspired by a lack of clothing, actually. Speak of the devil, Kristopher actually had it made for me. This whole fit was for the younger Prince but the tailor who made it for him didn’t realize Kristopher’s… Let’s just say lack of upper body strength, bulkiness, and overall appearance to pull off the look.” -- The returned Lord was the next to speak, though Blair wasn’t sure if the personal knight understood respect and the hierarchy based off of them. “Hmm. I see you haven't found yourself lost, or down on the beach collecting seashells for the children or letting them put ribbons in your hair again, your Highness.” -- “Oh I was just guessing the whole time. And if you’re so disappointed about the lack of ribbons in my hair then I wouldn’t mind y- Where are my manners? Lord Rosenburg is not a foreigner, Princess Mirian. If you wish, you can further indulge your curiosity of Lord Rosenburg’s wondrous details about his life upon his invitation. Here in Kagha, we tend to stray away from intrusive statements. I don’t blame you though, you are a foreigner.” -- Blair glanced around the hall for a moment, not at all impressed with the conversation now. At least the Kaghan’s wouldn’t pry into his life either then. That was about all he could really find to care about at the moment. He looked over at Prince Hyacinth, raising an eyebrow in a silent, almost sarcastic question. ‘Enjoying the show, Prince?’ -- “Come, come. Children these days are so out of shape. It really is a pity. Nobody works near as hard as I do. Once, I had to carry this man off of a battlefield. It took a long time as I had to dodge people and fend enemies off, as I made my way to the medics. I want a nice brisk tour. A touch of exercise after sitting in the carriage all day will do me good. I'd love to stretch my legs, but I'm afraid if Zacharius here continues to dally about we'll never get to see the tour. Are you stalling for some nefarious plan or perhaps you are too out of breath and you thought some conversation would give you a chance to rest your legs? Really, I don't think children nowadays are given the proper training. I doubt you Kaghans could carry a man around all day. I bet you sleep in and don't get up and train.” -- The King’s ramblings were never really anything interesting. Quite frankly, Blair only really listened for the important parts before stopping. The King was none the wiser, and would never be. Because that would probably be bad. Definitely bad. And he couldn’t die yet, no, he still had someone specific he had to take down. That damned empire affiliated family murderer. -- “We can head out now, I was hoping to start sooner- before the sparkling menace found his way to us. Surely you can help me tone my crippling legs by allowing me to carry you through this tour, I’m a far smoother ride than those horses, anyway. I’ll take you up on that offer, Princess Sori. Every Venturi is recorded in the Kaghan castle. Their stories, their wars, their accomplishments. This one here is Markus Venturi. My great, great uncle. He was killed at the age of 17 at the battle of Xanth, a land foreign to this country. He died a valiant warrior and sacrificed his life for his men without hesitation. He was the heir to the throne, but his younger brother, Maximus Venturi, inherited it after his untimely passing. Now, it’s your turn, Princess. The royal garden is just down this hallway. I wouldn’t advise flower picking, you’ll be met by an angry blur of a gardener.” -- Blair glanced back over to Prince Zacharius at the last bit, refusing to allow a small smile to grace his face. And instead kept his narrowed eyes, thin lip, and pointed annoyance. His mask wasn’t on yet, so his face could be seen. As of now, actually, his mask was resting on his left shoulder. It was the only piece he actually got to pick, and he went back to his Frain roots for it. -- Either way, a gardener? He hoped they actually knew their stuff. That they weren’t just pretending to know how to garden and getting lucky. He supposed he’d see when they got to the garden though. How well taken care of it might be. Blair expected it to be just as unimpressive as the Orin Royal Garden had been when compared to Frain’s old one. Of course, it was overrun now by weeds and decay. But the frozen beauty would never be bested, in his opinion. The frosted rosa x damascena that were somehow still vibrant in the dead of winter. The ones that were still tattooed on his arm, the ones that burned whenever he stopped and thought about them for too long. Thought about how those who had shared the tattoo were now most likely gone. After all, Orin had been the rendezvous for the group and they had never come. -- Before he started the train of thought, he looked back at Prince Hyacinth. The only good part about being close to the taller(yet younger) Prince, was that he knew what he held preferences to. And flowers were among them. Especially when taking into consideration the facial decorations. And so, with a slight tilt of his head to the side and an even slighter eyebrow raise… ‘Do you wish to check out the gardens, Prince Hyacinth?’ |
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Kristopher Venturi 24 || Male || Prince || Kagha || Mentions: Mircea, tour group Kristopher’s smirk only grew wider as Mircea gasped at his comment yelling some nonsense about “taking it back” and “I've been up since 4 am”. “Well, my friend. I have been up since 3:59 am. Beat that.” he retorted, bracing himself as Mircea shook him, one of his Friends' more rare, chaotic moods he particularly enjoyed. At the mention of his brother knowing how to tie a corset, he put on a dull expression. Shaking his head and making a tsk noise. “Mircea, Mircea, Mircea. I know a thing or two about untying a corset, my skills must be rubbing off in reverse on my dear brother,” he joked, letting out a laugh that could only be compared to a dying segal. Kris pounded a fist against his chest as if to clear his throat before sitting back to let his friend continue with his story. Though, thinking back on the corset comment, Kris was more confused about how his brother tied it so well. Kristopher himself only ever learned to unlace it. For specific occasions. Kris interrupted Mircea when he got to the part about his brother putting his hands on Mir’s hips. “And why aren't you two together already?” he asked, hands on his own hips, looking down at his friend. Zak’s comments about his cake and corset were just too much, holding up his hands for Mircea to stop, and lowering his voice he added, “Mircea you have to make your move soon before he gets betrothed or some shit!” His more teasing expression turned solemn. “I have heard about this betting pool. Some say that a certain prince had started it. Betting a ton of money that they would end up together…” He trailed off, deepening his voice and trying to suppress a smile as Kris averted eye contact. Whistling as he tapped his foot, staring at the ceiling. His friend seemed to cut his thoughts short as they neared the tour ahead. Which also answered Kris’s previous thought about the Orin royals arriving. It seemed as if they were in the middle of the tour, showing one of the rooms where their guests would be staying. His posture changed, straightening before he shot Mircea a look. He glanced towards the small group, consisting of most, if not all of the Orin royalty, including what seemed to be some of their knights. His friend announced their precedence to the group with a comment toward Zak. “If that was supposed to be flirty I say try it again,” he whispered to Mircea, leaning his head towards him so his voice couldn't be heard by the tour group. While Kris was naturally good at flirting, helping others in that department was definitely a struggle. It was as if asking him to do it would make him awkward and clueless. So picking up on potentially flirty comments wasn't really his thing. But regardless, he was trying. Standing at the door frame he heard the Orin King make a comment on Zak’s outfit, to which his brother responded with what seemed to be a jab at him. He put a hand over his heart, a mock offended expression on his face. “My dearest brother, I think you have it wrong. It was too small for me. It was tailored for someone much shorter than I, so I gifted it to my favorite smaller brother.” He grinned innocently. “Though you are right, my arms were a bit too small for the top, it was rather tight on my legs though. Too much quad muscle for the delicate fabric to contain…” Sighing, Kristopher dramatically raised a hand to wipe away fake tears. He then straightened to address the rest of the group. “Apologies for interrupting your tour-” he spoke, followed by a small smile, which was cut short as the prince pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes narrowing behind the mask. He wasn't a fan of being interrupted, let alone by a foreigner who dared to call one of their own as such. His mask was on, hiding the rest of his expression, however, he reached to take it off. Running a hand through his hair to fix the slight mess the mask had left. He was about to speak, mouth opened, when his brother beat him to it. He leaned against the door frame he was standing in, mask in his left hand, and arms crossed, nodding at his brother's words. Ignoring the next remark and completely shifting his body away from her, he directed his next comments toward the king and Queen. “Anywho, we happened to be walking by and noticed your presence here. I’m Prince Kristopher Venturi, and your Majesties must be the distinguished King and Queen of Orin.” Kris added, giving a slight bow in their direction. He would not be tempted by a lowly Orin princess such as the one before him, into giving in to his anger. He wasn't going to make Kagha’s distinguished line of Venturi’s seem unstable by a mere opinion made by a young girl. He was supportive in the way his brother defended Mircea, and hopefully shot down any more issues the princess had with him. “Unfortunately for you, you won’t have the pleasure of hunting me down,” he added, expression calm now returning to a calmer state as he tried to hide his offense at the comment about his horns. His mood shifted as he addressed her. “After all, I’ll be too distracted by one of the most exquisite, and distinguished women, who would be a much classier dance partner…in my humble opinion…” He let the comment hang in the air, pausing for dramatics before he revealed who he had been speaking of. Voice returning to its previously warmer state as he shifted his glance away from her. Bowing slightly towards who he was speaking of. “You may know her well, after all, she is your sister. Her majesty Princess Sori.” |
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Arisse
Eighteen || Female || House Karyille - "The Undying Rose" || Orinian Servant || Edrys, Sori A woman was staring at her.
Well, not just a woman, really. Anyone who lived in Orin for any amount of time would know of Edrys Kolsvalk, knight and and avid protector of the crown. It helped that she had trained with her when they were much, much younger, of course. Ah, but it was unlikely the woman remembered her. Not only had it been at least ten years, but Ari was now looking down at the floor, standing paralyzed in a room full of people. If she was going to make it, she wouldn't look up. She couldn't. Servant girls didn't look up, didn't disrespect their betters. A tension she didn't know she had was released when the princess excused her. She felt Lord Khet's eyes on her as she beckoned Daira to follow her to the servant's halls, moving to quickly escape the penetrating gaze of dozens of lords and ladies. Of course, she didn't know the hallways of the castle in Prira... it took quite a while to find where they were going, but it was made easier by following other servants ducking around the crowd, holding trays of food and drinks. She'd never been to Kagha before, so the sheer grandeur and color of its palace was shocking compared to what they had in Orin. As soon as they reached the servant's quarters, Ari let out a sigh of relief. Daira only looked at her quizically, but she shook her head, pointing to one of the other servants. "I was told I'd be with him, serving the nobility. I just wanted to be out of that, for a moment. Are you to be in the kitchens?" She had, in fact, not been told of her duty for that night, nor had Daira. Servants weren't told, they just did as they were expected to do. So, she suggested a task for Daira, to prevent her from being noticed during the ball. It was one less thing she had to worry about- she already had Lord Khet, the princess, Edrys, and her... admirer to focus on. Knowing Daira, she'd begrudgingly take her suggestion to heart, as in the presence of her lord, she was always told what to do. And as she expected, Daira's eyes narrowed but she shrugged, eyes moving to the other servant Ari had pointed to. He was watching them, head tilted, smiling. "Actually, I'm in the kitchens with your friend here. Just came back to get some things... eh, they don't need me at the moment. But I'm sure they will eventually." He slipped off his bed, arm held out for Daira. "Walk with me?" Ari's mouth twisted into a smirk as she watched her friend nearly jump at the thought, briefly looking back before following him down the hallways and disappearing around a corner. Perfect. This was her chance to change. She moved into the washroom in case anyone else walked in, and, taking the fur-wrapped clothes from her inside dress pocket, thought about what she was going to do. What was she going to do? She remembered something her brother told her, the first time he found her donning similar attire. "Hey Ar, what are you doing? You can't just... do you not feel bad?" As she felt the soft fabric, her face fell a little. No, I don't. At times, she wished she could feel bad for some of the things she'd done. But... she didn't. She took her hair down, and it fell into long, black curls. Her brother had loved her. And he had loved her so very much... but he could never marry Aira, a girl from a house no one had heard of. He had to marry for the family, not for his feelings. But he ignored them, and he got her killed. Ari hurt him when she took her house, took her origin and ripped it from his memory of her. She knew she might never see him again for it. But she felt nothing. She couldn't. Her name could fit to many faces; her face could belong to different names. Upset was an emotion she wasn't allowed to feel, wasn't allowed to show. It was always that way, and it would always remain to be that way. She donned her mask. Her hands smoothed out the folds in her dress as she rewrapped the furs, eyes blank and unyielding. She was supposed to gain information tonight, that was it. Her "admirer" was assisting. He would be handling some of the Empire's nobility. She would be handling Kagha's nobility. You feel nothing. Aira Leires is in the past. Together with her servant clothes, she dropped the furs into the wooden hole in front of her. No one would be going in there soon, and if they were, they wouldn't be the least bit concerned with it. They were servant's clothes dropped in the servant's washroom. With any luck, she'd be thought missing, and that would be that. But she had a feeling... someone would notice her. She put her necklace and shoes on, and, listening for others, opened the door. The one thing she was concerned about was her scent, but with a single tray of wines at her disposal, it wouldn't be hard to invent something that could mask the aroma of a servant. Quickly, so no one saw her, she mixed them together in a wooden bowl she found, frantically rubbing the concoction over any exposed part of her. When she was satisfied, she stepped into the north servants' halls, taking a path that led all the way around the castle. She was lucky; she ran into no one on the way, but did find several misleading passages and nearly ended up on the east side of the kitchens, despite her careful stepping. When she finally made it outside, she found that it came out to the stables, where she saw stablehands tending the horses as dusk fell. A particularly dark horse was looking at her as though he wanted to see if she tasted like carrots, but couldn't because of the rope around his neck. Forget the horse. Remember who you are. One stablehand gave her a peculiar look as she stepped out of the corridor, but she merely smiled, and he turned away. You can't think about her. You are a noble. Nobles don't get sad. The open hallways were mazes enough for her, but it didn't help that they all practically looked exactly the same. At one point, she started using the multiple gardens as waypoints, finding at least four that led her closer to the ball. She nearly ran into the Orinian royalty touring the castle, but swiftly stepped behind a wall, waiting for them to go the other direction. Luckily for her, they did. It took nearly a half an hour for her to find her way back to the ballroom, but once she did, she let out a sigh of relief. Even though the ball hadn't started yet, the room was filling quickly- a mix of nobility, knights, and possibly, royals. But she wasn't looking for any of them.
There was only one person she was looking for- and she let her eyes scan the room, quickly finding one man, dressed in white and blue, watching her from behind a pillar. She casually made her way over, eyes sharp, and gave him her most dazzling smile, curtseying politely. "It's nice to see you, Lord Arrin." Gently touching his arm with one of her gloved hands, she inspected the fine, velvet fabric. "On the days the sun never sets... "...the Goldcliffs shine bright." He bowed and held out a glass to her, smiling from under his wolf mask. "I believe we have catching up to do, yes?" Taking the glass, she grinned. "We do indeed." |
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Sori Rye Thezmaer 21 | Female | Princess of Orin | Mentions: Zak, Mirian, Mircea, Kristopher, Randolph To say the princess was mortified would be a complete and utter understatement. She ducked her head, closing her eyes and borderline shielding her face with one of her hands, hiding away from the sights of her sister and father. Her other hand wrapped around her own hips, resting on her side to rest her elbow on top of it. At this rate, the less time she had to spend surrounded by her family the better. She would get far more information from the Kagha Royals and Guards without her sister and father around, and they were all far too suspiscious of her mother. The only Orin Royal that she wasn't concerned about continuing on with was her brother, Hyacinth. If Mirian wanted information from the Royal Guard, maybe she shouldn't have been stupid about it. Accusing the Royal Guard of being a foreigner? Appoaching him with such... thinly veiled hostility? Why would she ask that in front of everyone that had traveled inside with them? Why would she? Did she have no mind for politics? No mind for the technical dance of a courtroom? No. No, Mirian did not. As soon as their father stepped up to take everyone's attention, Sori dropped her head and turned sharp eyes towards Mirian. Her sister was always the first to piss her off, even just slightly. Mirian had always had the key to making her lose her cool. She'd rarely completely lost her shit, but she didn't doubt that this little stupidity act that was going on would make her lose it completely. She looked away and turned, taking a few strides towards anyone else and hoping being away from Mirian would calm her nerves at least somewhat. Being out of her sisters vicinity, not having to hear her stupid words or stupid opinions always managed to settle any irritation that arose from the black-haired woman. Sori knew Mirian didn't want this marriage. The other princess was far too focused on leading Orin to consider anything that might help Orin. A god complex? No, not quite. A savior complex, perhaps. Mirian seemed so set on being the one to save Orin. She seemed so set on single-handedly defeating the Empire. Mirian was also a fool. "I'm going to kill her tonight, I swear," she muttered to herself, shaking her head and rubbing at her temple when she straightened herself back up and remade herself into a presentable princess. Seemingly the only presentable princess the Orin Royals had, if Mirian had given any inclination of what she was going to be acting like on their stay today. She looked up in time to hear and see the little exchange between Prince Zacharius and Lord Rosenburg, but didn't have the emotional capacity to dissect it nor care too much about it. Why would she? Their business was their business, and she wasn't here to blackmail them. What would she gain from prying into their personal lives when she wasn't even likely to see them again? When the Prince Kristopher started talking, though, Sori tuned in completely, dancing her gaze over to him and watching him as he spoke. Not easily angered, then. Or, rather, not easily persuaded into showing anger. Most, if not all, of the Venturi Royals appeared to be that way, driven far from anger at some point in their lives and being slow to work their way back there, or good at hiding how quickly they got back there. This last few sentences did have her perk up, though, lips pulling up into a charming grin. Her mind shot back to Mirian betting that she'd dance with more people at the ball, and Sori curtsied to the prince, inclining her head. She resisted shooting her sister a glance, instead nodding slightly to the prince. "I think I would quite enjoy dancing with you, Prince Kristopher," she replied, her metal-clad hands clinking softly as she laced her fingers together. Prince Zacharius caught her attention again when he began to actually tell her about one of his stories, and she all-but visibly brightened, seemingly having forgotten Mirian's little outburst about Lord Rosenburg. She stepped towards him, tilting her head to listen intently to his words. Markus Venturi. So all the pillars were of the Venturi bloodline, carrying their stories and honorable mentions throughout history with them, engraved in stone and unforgetable to anyone that passed them. "He sounds as if he were an honorable man and a noble warrior," she complimented, flicking her eyes up to watch the princes reaction to the compliment of his bloodline. Some where incredibly proud of it, Sori was certainly proud of her own, but their reaction to that pride could make or break a person in her mind. "Hmm," she hummed, contemplating for a moment, before she grinned and perked up again, nodding. "I have the perfect tale for you, Prince," she announced softly, nodding along with her own words. "It's one of the most popular legends in Orin, often a bedtime story for our children," she took a small step back, not realizing how expressive she had suddenly gotten with her hands in her excitement. Not quite too much and not quite irritating, but enough to see that the topic of talking about it was one that enjoyed her. "It's the tale of the Nyxko, a creature said to be a true neutral, neither good nor evil, having no motive other than to simply exist on the whims of it's immortality. It's said to be both as tall as the trees and as short as the ants, as pale as the moon itself and as dark as the night sky that surrounds it, as muscular as a moose and as tangle-limbed as a foal," the tale was evidently one that overjoyed her, her grin spreading across her face. "The Nyxko is said to be the Silent Watcher, the Invisible Guardian, the Monster to Those Deserving. It is a creature of protection, it helps those that need it and deserve it. As children, we're told to ask it for protection in its forests, the mighty redwoods. We're told to seek out its eyes of green opal in the forest canopy, and treat all life within the forest with the care that we would the mighty Nyxko, for the Nyxko could be any of them. "As we grow, though, some are further led to believe that the Nyxko is a monster, hence one of its names. We're led to believe that any that enter our forest with malicious intent will meet an end of fangs and talons, of harsh blows delivered by the forest spirit itself." Sori took a moment to glance over at her mother, before she finished: "But we are also taught to believe that sometimes people need a monster to protect them in times of need." |
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Lightbringer
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Mircea Vasilica Rosenburg 23 :: Masculine :: Knight :: Mentions : Kristopher, Zacharius, Orin Royals + Guests Mircea was in a rather good mood considering his banter with his friend. And he could see the Orin Royals in his sight of view and he felt himself start to straighten up in their presence. A polite grin on his face. And his amber eyes remaining neutral as he walked up to them. However he could feel his irritation grow at what Zacharius was saying - so he was being a bit dumb today. He would have to let it slide, after all. He had to suppress a laugh at the banter between Zacharius and Kristopher. But one could sense his amusement but then he spoke saying, "Boys, boy. Stop arguing, you both know this little match of yours can last up to months. And I swear, if you guys end up ruining your outfits from some spontaneous wrestling - I am not saving you from your sister. "
He was so focused on the tour going well that he didn't hear the flirtatious remark from Zacharius. Instead he was flabbergasted by the line of questioning that the Princess Mirian had just given. To say he was unimpressed and possibly a bit peeved by what she had just insinuated - but he didn't show it. He simply removed his golden mask with a chuckle. However before he could light into the Princess - Zacharius had spoken up before he did. He gave Zacharius greatful expression but one with the slightest hint of disappointment. Even though he had been defended by the Prince he could still speak on his own. "If a Princess could act so unrefined and uneducated I wouldn't have expected it to be the eldest princess of Orin. Your manners are simply deplorable." He said without fear and one could see the disdain. He could hear the snickering of the younger Orin prince. The young prince's violet eyes held much amusement at the situation. And then his grin grew even more at seeing Kristopher absolutely read the Princess. And Mircea had to cover his mouth in amusement. "Even if you did hunt down Kris for a dance. I don't think you'd be able to keep up with his dancing." Mircea added with a snicker. He didn't really know what to think nor say about the whole situation with the King. But he could tell Zacharius was feeling a bit uncomfortable even if he didn't show it. And so Mircea picked up his pace a bit - he might have to catch up but Zacharius seemed to pick up his own mood, and he talked about the portraits and he even offered the princess to tell a legend. He didn't miss when the bastard send him a wink that would cause his eartips to burn a little bit. Zacharius definitely wanted him to pass out. But then he was distracted. The princess told the legend of an old childhood tale. If one could see his face brighten - then it did because of the familiarity of the legend. And he listened with quiet awe and admiration as she told the legend with such enthusiasm - it made it even more entertaining. And so he came up by her side and he began speaking , of course after finishing the legend. "I remember that legend. My dad told me this story all the time, he always told it in total darkness for effect." Mircea said his own expressiveness coming through - " Father used to tell it like this: See yourself through the forest with honor and with pride - lest you stumble upon the Nyxo, neither good nor bad , always ever shifting, ever changing like the forest itself. The only constant was the emerald eyes that watch you from above or below, no one really knows. A creature proud of its home and would defend it down to the bone. Some say it's a savage - some say it's guardian , who really knows? All little children should hear this and remember it well, to disrespect the mighty redwoods is a strike to its pride - and you'd better run and hide , if you can that is. For the Nyxo is all seeing and all knowing." To end the story he says this, "Be warned and beware the Nyxo's snare. Be kind and inviting to the residents of the forest but if you dare to harm a tree or feather on them - you might just lose your life." "I don't think it was dramatic as yours Lady Sori," he said casually looking at the princess with a soft smile saying , "I am not one for formalities because it can be tiring after all we are all equals as some form of nobility. So you can just call me Mircea." He then gave a mock gasp of offense at the words of Zacharius, "Basil isn't as bad as the Prince says. He's just being dramatic." And he whispered to Sori, "Basil won him over with a flower crown and genuinely being a ray of sunshine. Zacharius would deny it, but he would do anything for the kid." And he gave a soft laugh before heading towards the garden . He opened the doors to show the magnificent scenery of said garden. The flowers were well-kept and quite beautiful to look at. Mircea hummed at seeing the abandoned shovel and flower blooms. A soft smile gracing his face. "Hey, guys." Mircea said calling to the princes, "looks like Basil was up late gardening, again. He's probably rushing to get ready for the Ball - if not he was probably complaining about the tacky flowers before I fixed them. Even if he is ready for the Ball, that wouldn't stop him from gardening." He bummed to himself as he took the shovel and fixed the rest of the holes that Basil would've done. He gingerly put each plant in its hole before covering it up with the rich dirt, and then grabbing a small bucket full of Basil's compost and gingerly spreading it on the flowers and covering it up with more dirt. He then took a watering can and began watering the flowers that hadn't been watered. He didn't care if he was doing a "servant's" task - gardening was beautiful. As he knelt down to water one last flower - some butterflies decided that Mircea was irresistible. They began fluttering around the blossoms in his hair and just landing on his dress. But it didn't bother him, when he was gardening he was in his own world and he was calm and collected. And as he moved, the butterflies followed him. It was quite a sight to see. |
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Summer 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
