Character Masterlist:

The Wolves:

Leader/Prince-

Evander Torano | Darkness Manipulation | Portrayed by Me

Second in Command-

Portrayed By…(Reserved for Mistress Nyx)

The Traitor-

Nikos Sumner | Animal Possession | Portrayed by the Wayne pack

The Wolves' Spy-

Quinn A'Niellk | Energy | Portrayed by Dark Matter

Other Members-

-Leko Norbaine | Illusions | Portrayed by Me

-Enedina Lovell | Regeneration | Portrayed by Jawa Supremacy

-Samira Octuras | Telepathy | Portrayed by M I S E R Y

-Joaquin Aziel-Kallikrates Driscoll | Shapeshifting | Portrayed by Spellbound

-Lucious Ian Bardot | Empathy | Portrayed by Meian

-Solaris Starweaver | Lunar Manipulation | Portrayed by the Wayne pack

-Annika Katz | Heightened Senses | Portrayed by Meian

-Yvonne Ilisar | Pyrokinesis | Portrayed by Winter Stars

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The Court:

The Queen-

Marie Torano | Portrayed by Me

The Youngest Royal-

-Malakai Torano | Portrayed by M I S E R Y

Nobles of Ornetress-

-Alessandria Yuda | Blood Contract | Portrayed by Jawa Supremacy

-Ygraine Paladyr | Portrayed by Jawa Supremacy

-Tatsuya Iseul-Fraener Montcrioux | Portrayed by Spellbound

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Servants-

-Edward Grant | Portrayed by Jawa Supremacy

-Basil Angelopoulos | Solar Manipulation | Portrayed by Tamesis

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Commanding Knight-

-Cassian Iorwerth | Rapid Reflexes | Portrayed by Me

The Knight Force-

-Valente Benedictus | Portrayed by Tamesis

-Corentin Asterope - Amihan Iorwerth | Weather Manipulation | Portrayed by Spellbound

-Jasmine Grace Hansley | Portrayed by Meian

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Other Citizens:

-Lakes Du Lac | Portrayed by Jawa Supremacy

-Valentina Catalina | Portrayed by M I S E R Y

-Faust Martinus | Superior Thievary | Portrayed by Tamesis

-Laverna Skywatcher | Portrayed by the Wayne pack

-Cresil LaCroix | Deity/Bishop | Portrayed by Me

• • •

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Discussion

Starting Info:

The vast kingdom of Ornetress is once more finding itself being embraced by the revered Spring season. The winter was harsher and crueler compared to years prior - though much could be attributed to the threats of famine and the continuous unrest sweeping the lands. Regardless of the strife, spring is welcome by most of the kingdom. It is a sacred symbol of rebirth and hope; something many denizens of Ornetress could find themselves romanticizing with. No matter where they currently reside within the kingdom boundaries.

Just south to the kingdom’s center harbors the capital of the kingdom. A place that is seemingly, at surface level, perfect. Unscathed even by the troubles Ornetress has found itself plagued by. The palace grounds even more so. Though this mirage of flawlessness is not surprising considering the current ruler’s obsession with maintaining an image of perfection. Usually this time of year would be dedicated to the organizing of one of the most adored festivals in the kingdom to reign in Spring - the capital itself hosting nobles and various high-class citizens from across the kingdom to enjoy the splendors of feasts, the fabulously put together balls, and the grand display of fireworks launched over the capital’s town square from the base of a local lake -that primarily docks the small fleet of the kingdom’s naval ships- on the final day of celebration. The year of the storm became the first time (in more recent years) that the festival was canceled. Whether the Queen will follow in the former King’s footsteps to host such an event is up for speculation though.

Outside of the capital, in the west, resides a territory of the kingdom regarded as the ‘slums’. It is a poor place, harboring working-class and the desperately needy alike. Its shady nature though is the perfect place for an abandoned manor on the outskirts of the city to reside - a manor home to The Wolves. A sanctuary hidden in almost plain sight.

As of currently-

It is mid-morning for the kingdom beneath the bright, blue hued sky. The weather is fair, a light yet pleasantly crisp breeze blowing through the capital and closely surrounding areas. To some, such calm in a kingdom in such disarray is unsettling. And to others, it’s a much welcome brief interlude of peace amid the chaos engulfing the kingdom. The Queen is hosting a rather casual, and utterly pointless party of sorts. These calls of social gatherings for the higher class at the palace are becoming frequent - though all are becoming aware of the gossip fest for the Queen’s entertainment they front for. Protection is always layered thickly for these events both within and outside of the palace though, so it wouldn’t be unusual to see a heavy presence of armored men and women making their rounds about the palace grounds.

And as for The Wolves, there is nothing particular on the Prince’s agenda for the day - though he would encourage devoting as much time as possible to perfecting the usage of their abilities, or training. Though, The Wolves are generally free to roam the streets… responsibly.

Mistake

Tatsuya will go here

Mistake

Joaquin will go here

Solaris Starweaver - 19 - Wolves member - Lunar manipulation - Mentions: Evander Torano


Today was a beautiful day. Spring was upon the land and the harsh winter was over, everything had been steadily warming up and the weather was pleasant at this time. While the young man was not quite a romantic like many of the citizens were in regards to springtime, he could still appreciate the ending of the winter, the evening out weather and temperatures were refreshing after the harsh cold of the last season. In fact he was tempted to exit the Den, his new place of residence as of recently, and simply exist under the clear blue sky. Of course it meant he would have to get up from where he was sprawled out on the bed, and he did not have the willpower to make himself get up yet.

Solaris rolled his head to the side in order to view the window, gray eyes observing what he could from his current position on the bed. The daytime, no matter how beautiful the sky is, was nothing compared to the sight of the night sky. The inky darkness that covered the land, with tiny pinpricks of bright stars and the radiating light of the moon, was something else entirely. It was a stunning sight to the young man, to be in an open field or area with no trees or buildings to hem in one's vision, and to be able to view the night sky in its entirety.

He could practically see the twinkling stars printed upon a sheet of black, and his eyes slid shut for a minute. The only thing he was missing was the innate connection to the source of his powers, that inexplicable link that had appeared within ever since his recovery from the illness the rains brought. At the current time that connection felt weaker and dimmer, it was harder to find the link even if he went still and concentrated on where he knew it was. As the moon set and the sun rose in its place, the connection to the moon faded and became harder to sense, as opposed to when the night was upon the kingdom and the moon was hanging high in the sky.

The male felt the familiar pull of sleep as his body relaxed and the sinking feeling increased. While it would be wonderful to surrender to the oblivion of sleep, he knew that he had to get up again, and for that to happen, he had to drag himself out of the growing haze of sleep and into wakefulness. A muffled groan forced itself out of his throat and through his slightly parted lips, and he turned his head to the side and moved an arm up to lay next to his pillow. Opening his eyes felt like a task that required too much of his energy, but after a brief time of struggling to pry open his eyes, he managed in the simply action. After those cool toned irises were open and taking in the room, the man found it a good deal easier to pick up his head and start waking up once again.

A yawn parted his jaws as the male sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, arching his back and moving in a glorious stretch. The action tensing his arm and leg muscles and waking up his body and mind further, a small noise of satsifaction escaping him. After that was done, he stood up completely and took a deep breath, gaze finding the window again as he took a few steps around the room. Aside from nearly dozing off after he had woken up, the young man felt pretty good mentally and energy wise. He did not feel like immediately going out to take a run around the manor, it was not a morning where he woke up bursting with energy and could not wait to burn some of it up, but he had enough to feel fairly energetic.

The dark-haired male paced around the room for a few minutes, letting the movement wake himself up a bit more before exiting the room and going downstairs. All the while he was simply just thinking, letting his thoughts speed up and wander as his mind adjusted to being awake. Then, after a short while, he smoothly turned out of the track he had fallen into and went for the door, slipping out of his room and into the large hallway where the living places were. There was barely a moment of a pause as he swept his gaze across the hall to see if any other people were out or if any doors were opening, before he was walking down the stairs to the bottom floor.

It had been not too long ago that he had moved into the manor, called the Den by the organization, and he was still getting used to the place. The layout was easy to understand, and it would be difficult getting lost within the main part of the structure. The top level was for personal quarters, and the bottom level was for training and planning. It was simple. But still it was a change for him, he had not lived in a house like this before, not one this large or made of stone, it was an interesting place, to say the least.

Solaris couldn't help but take a glance around as he descended the stairs, going somewhat carefully as he took his eyes off of the steps. Then he was at the bottom and turning towards the training room, if he were to be asked why exactly he decided to go in there, he wouldn't be able to answer. He just did, there was not a lot of conscious thought put into it.

He heard the sounds before he reached the room, and the young man slowed down accordingly. There was someone in there, and he gathered that it would be wise to not startle them; after all, it would not be pleasant to get a blade or arrow to the face, and have to heal a wound that was gained purely by his being a little less than half asleep and not thinking at the same speed as he usually did. Not that he was that groggy, he was always one to wake up more quickly than most.

He turned into the room and stopped in the entrance, quickly seeing who was the one practicing. The leader of the Wolves and the so far disgraced prince of the kingdom, Evander Torano. Solaris' opinion of his leader was a more positive one, even though he had known the older male for a week. He did keep his opinion of him neutral however, he did not everything about him and so his opinion may change. But so far, it was a good view of Evander. He saw the daggers and tilted his head slightly, before taking a step inside and greeting the leader of the Wolves. "Hello."

And with his presence being known, the younger man stepped fully into the large room, taking a look around as he stood there. It was not a look that was as thorough as it had when he had just moved in, and had been exploring the old place. Then a thought popped into his mind, and he spared a glance at Evander, his gray eyes lighting up in a momentary show of impending mischief. It was not often he indulged himself with messing with other people, but this was a reaction he wanted to see. Solaris came closer to Evander, not too close, but close enough so that he could speak at normal volume and still be heard. Positioning himself several feet behind the man and a little to the right.

"Did I ever tell you I could manipulate the night sky?" Solaris asked, as casual as if he were merely remarking upon the weather or about Evander's daggers. Nothing about him, body language of facial expression, betrayed anything about his feelings; except the kind of vague curiosity that comes with not quite remembering if one had told another person something.

Leko Norbaine | Wolves Member | 22 | Male | Illusions | Mentions: Corentin {Dir}

The capital’s town square this time of year was reserved for the elitists within Ornetress. The teal-tinted hues of Leko observed such a fact long before the life-changing storm, and as it so currently appears, just a year after it. Most of those roaming the streets were dripping in garbs solely meant to reflect their sheer opulence and status. Leko was of no status, but the male knew how to expertly blend into his surroundings from the articles of clothing he has obtained through less than honest means. A quarter sleeved white linen undershirt was primarily veiled by that of a snugly fitting vest; the well-woven fabric inked in a periwinkle blue with black accents and buttons. Where his obsession of vests hailed was unbeknownst to the blond, yet he fancied them deeply nonetheless. It had taken some time to thieve pants perfectly tailored to his longer, more slender legs - but the black trousers currently clinging to his lower half were the reward of a seduction turned theft. That fling also allowed Leko to come into the possession of sleek, pointed onyx colored shoes - the same pair he currently wore.

Weaving through the sea of various upper class men and women, Leko turned the corner of a street to witness the many vendors lining either side of the cobbled road. Most were selling some sort of knock off trinkets; false gold holy relics and the like. Others were attempting to entice the occasional flock of females to admire the jewelry they had on display at their stands. But as Leko’s gaze traveled over the sights amid his casual stroll, his eyes fell upon a rather peculiar sight that beckoned him to pause off to the side of a much smaller table. An evidently older male fitted with a wider frame then the average man bore a dottore styled white mask; with a more pronounced elongated nose paired with the usual complete covering of the man’s forehead. Standing at the opposite side of the masked man’s table were three fabulously dressed individuals - two older women, and a haughty young man.

Leko crept closer to observe the game the vendor was playing, and a wicked smile blossomed upon the male’s features as he observed a game rarely played in Ornetress these days. It was one not even Leko had attempted to host in years, and one he wasn’t foolish enough to attempt to play unlike the three wealthy individuals. The winner of the stone-shuffling game always won not only the wagers their fellow betters made, but also the host’s coin pouch - and judging from the weighted pouch that hung on the host’s belt, no one had managed to win yet today. The risk and the reward were almost too great for Leko to refrain from, he desired nothing more than to score the win on that hefty pouch with his own sleight of hand. But he couldn’t afford a slip in his illusions and be publicly outed as an Other - he was a greedy man, but not one willing to gamble with his life for only a single coin pouch.

As fate would have it though, the further Leko strayed from his lost opportunity, the closer he crept upon a very different kind of wealth for his taking. Breezing through alleys on the lookout for a more favorable opportunity, he emerged onto a new street - a little less crowded than the prior places he had found himself in. Leko stuck to the sidelines as his blue orbs swept over each person, each structure, everything. That observance led to Leko feasting his eyes upon a very familiar figure several paces ahead of him - Leko slowed his stride, allowing his raking gaze to drink in the rich sight of Corentin as he advanced. What are you doing without your cute show of armor? Leko pondered curiously, though he was not about to complain about the attire fitted perfectly to the seemingly off-duty knight. It was tradition for Leko to toy with his beloved boy, and such a tradition the blond would not forfeit in participating in today. A short detour later allowed for Leko to begin silently stalking up the alley Coren resided on the opposite side of. The illusionist adored possessing the element of surprise, and exhilaration began trickling its way down his spine.

Just as he reached the end of the alleyway, he wasted no second in emerging just enough in Coren’s sight to deliver a muse spoken by the lips that had curved into his perfect smirk. “It seems I’ve stumbled across my favorite delicacy.” His arms reached out simultaneously as he spoke to -more or less- pull Corentin into the alley with him in a brisk manner. It was in Leko’s best interest to not completely startle the knight, and risk receiving a retaliation he could not counter - but surely by now Coren would be just flustered enough to not protest the way Leko pinned him against the alley wall. With one hand pressed against the wall, mere inches from the side of Corentin’s face, Leko took pleasure in looming over the male as he lowered his head enough for his upturned lips to tease at making contact with Coren’s. “You wouldn’t mind devoting your servitude to me today, would you?” He uttered huskily before engaging his lips with Coren’s - what sweet flavor am I tasting on your lips? Leko’s other hand, that had previously been stationed at Coren’s waist, descended until it reached its destination - urging Coren to wrap his leg around Leko for a better vantage.

Corentin was not the source of fun Leko had initially set out to conquer, and yet he was grateful for coming across such a divine opportunity. Good things come to those who wait, after all.

Cassian Iorwerth | Commanding Knight | 27 | Male | Rapid Reflexes | Mentions: Other Knights {ind}, Corentin {ind}, Marie {ind}

“Our force has always existed to protect the crown of Ornetress, and the kingdom’s entirety.”

Cassian’s sword dutifully slipped into the sheath that was loyally stationed at his side. It’s seen the rise and fall of the Commander before Cassian. It’s seen days a plenty in battle. It’s claimed the lives of enemies by the thousands. It knows all but fear and failure. It is a beautiful device of destruction. It is a murderous tool that has made Ornetress a safer place. Cassian embodies the spirit of his sword. For he too is a murderous device, destined to bring about destruction of all that he touches, and yet he re-purposed that fate into purifying the world around him.

“It is a force existing only to protect the superiority of our people above all others, and to protect our lands from foes both foreign and familiar to our kingdom.”

The breeze passing through the outside air gently ruffled the lone knight’s pale locks, the amber embers that were his eyes flaming with purpose as his boots marched across the grounds of the courtyard in the direction of the distant barracks. The palace -inside and out- was crawling with knightly figures and guards in spur of the Queen’s irritatingly spontaneous social call. Cassian preferred precision and planning where it was needed, though Marie was as flippant in her decisions as she was with her moods. This is why father abhorred women in power. The Commander recoiled from any further less than pleasant thoughts regarding his Queen. She was merciful. Gracious to his circumstance. He owed her more than his life was worth. He didn’t deserve a place in her court. And she allowed him to obediently serve both of his masters - herself and his guiding religious principles.

“By pledging yourself to the kingdom’s knight force, you are promising to forever dedicate yourselves to the protection of the royal family, and your lives to the defense of the throne.”

Orders were given the morning prior by Cassian himself to the knights ranking beneath him as to what today’s duties would entail. To his internal dismay, less of a force would be sweeping the streets of Ornetress, with the bulk of protection being centered within the boundaries of the palace grounds. The Queen was adamant she would not need such an influx of protection, Cassian felt otherwise. It pleased the Commander nonetheless to witness his fellow men and women in armor heeding to his orders - each having their own station, or pacing the ground in perfectly timed laps. It was at the very least a routine most should be accustomed to should they have been serving longer than even six months. Today though, most knights were in pairs as an added measure of protection. Cassian had even assigned himself a partner for the day beings he would be bound strictly to the palace, and yet… his brother’s whereabouts evaded him. As he encroached on the barracks, where their rendezvous was supposed to take place in a matter of minutes, a swell of impatience rose in the Commander’s chest. On time is late. Their father preached it religiously enough in the time he lived - it might as well be a part of Cassian’s religious principles. Cass was sensitive in regards to Coren’s perspective on their father’s teachings and various ideals though, albeit the eldest Iorwerth brother was not exactly fond of discussing their father in negative terms. Even if the deceased man deserved it.

“Our force wages war against all forms of impurity that threaten our livelihoods - no matter what shape such impurities may take the shape of. Remember this as you go forward in your servitude; protect and defend your kingdom at all costs, no matter the sacrifice.”

His still stance faltered into that of a light pace in wait of Corentin outside of the barracks, the flames in his eyes dimming by the nostalgic thoughts of his father that began to tame him from the inside out. Cassian recalled quite vividly the day his father swore him into the knight’s force at the age of twelve, as an apprentice to the former Commander of course.

“Cassian Iorwerth, step forward.” His father beckoned, and Cassian spared no second in breaking from the formation of his row with other boys standing side-by-side. Upon reaching his father, Cassian was handed his first sword, instructed to kneel, and lay his gaze upon the crowd of other apprentices. Cassian obeyed. The other apprentices, who were all given wooden practice swords versus Cass’ steel one, followed by his example and knelt in a beautiful synchronization before him. The young knight bowed his head as his father finalized his speech above him.

Cass was pure.

Cass was superior.

He internalized each and every word spoken from his father’s lips just before this moment.

He would abide by his oath and by all that he stood for - until he drew his final breath.

A sudden spin on his heels that was too fast to be a conscious movement ripped Cassian from his thoughts as he allowed his ability to guide the movement, his thoughts tuning into whatever his sense of reflex was communicating to him. The eyes that had only briefly been relieved of their fire hardened once more in a blaze as they made landfall on a figure that had been rather carelessly twirling their sword as they exited the barracks - though Cassian had made the visual conclusion that their idiotic action was still a fair distance too far to generate any real sense of danger to him. The younger knight hadn’t even noticed his Commander’s stare on him, not that he should have physically felt the way Cass’s eyes burned holes into the back of his head.

Bristling with vexation at this curse that corrupted him, Cassian’s gaze returned to intensely scanning for any signs of his brother’s presence somewhere in the courtyard. How Coren has come to comfortably embrace the impurity that has infiltrated his body is well beyond Cass’ understanding. What puzzled the Commander even more so was the premise of Coren even being plagued by such a disgusting curse. The heavens wrongfully marked his brother - it was the one mistake Cassian was willing to challenge his beliefs with. Corentin was a figure of all that was good in this life, especially in Cassian’s life. It saddened him deeply to know his brother was truly victimized by the storm’s illness. All Others but Corentin were fated to relinquish this curse by trading their life for a chance to be pure again. How am I the sole entity of blasphemy to see our purpose? It didn’t matter though, Cassian was a savior to both his own kind, and those blessed enough to survive the illness with their purity intact. He would set them all free. And then he too could be free.

It’s his destiny.

Evander Torano | Leader of the Wolves | 26 | Male | Darkness Manipulation | Mentions: Solaris {dir}, Other Wolves {ind}

A single, precise flick of Evander’s wrist was all the effort needed for the dagger previously in his grasp to sail at unparalleled speed through the spacious room. His expression as he observed the weapon sink itself into its mark was nothing short of focused; the forever churning sea of silver in his eyes raged on through narrowed lids, a tension in his jaw enough to press his lips tightly together. The Prince was a creature of regal posture in all that he did, it being no different now with his higher held head and his shoulders squared just enough to demand the respect he had been groomed to both attract and bask in. Pleased with the accuracy of his aim, Ev’s aura wavered in its intense seriousness as his gaze softened and he shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet just before his trek forward in retrieving his blade began.

Most spaces in the manor had the luxury of the light of morn pouring through various windows, blanketing the manor -if not most of the kingdom- in a gentle light. The vast room Evander has dedicated to both combat training and ability experimentation, however, lacked any threshold that offered a glimpse into the world beyond the manor. The Prince had taken it upon himself to light a few candles within the room to make it appear more inviting, though he preferred to operate solely within the shadows. The dim lighting cascading over his features only exemplified the highly unnatural soft glow his steely silver eyes possessed, though Ev welcomed the asset, especially in times he warped himself in condensed and utter pitch black darkness.

Stopping just short of the speck on the wall that he had made his target, Ev’s hand reached to retrieve his blade, as well as its twin just a finger’s space away - also stuck into the wall. It wasn’t challenging enough for Evander to construct and use the various targets around the room, and so he got as creative as possible without encouraging his Wolves to also strive for more… creative advances in terms of training. It would manifest a deep disappointment within the Prince to lay witness to a member attempting to shoot or hit objects off of another’s head or something similar without his supervision and go-ahead. Evander did not like to think of himself as a ‘glorified babysitter’ to the Others he took in, though some individuals did strain the boundary between his rank as a leader and him acting as a supervisor of sorts.

In all honesty, very few individuals Evander even offered a place within his group were ones he sought out purposefully. It was a rather difficult means to operate efficiently as a lone wolf for Evander - with his status so gruesomely stripped from him, and his inability to ever truly discern who was an ally, and who sought to destroy him. But Evander has always been one to listen, and he did many nights on the streets. He listened to words passed from commoner to commoner, mistress to mistress, all in passing as he found sanctuary under the guise of darkness. Ev followed some suspected of being Others, and some, he could simply sense possessed the strain of the unnatural coursing their veins and thus making them an Other. And for the rest - Evander simply came across by chance. But he did not impulsively extend invitations to a single soul that dwelled within the manor. He was as careful as possible, and took calculated risks with each and everyone he saw potential in. Evander -as disheartening so- looked over a few individuals that were surely Others, but simply lacked something he desperately needed within his ranks; loyalty. And just perhaps, a portion of the Prince simply sought to connect and align with Others just as lost, and just as forcibly alone as he was in the wake of the new world.

Returning to his former throwing spot, once more Ev composed himself in a stance of sheer concentration before throwing the dagger at his next, minuscule mark on the distant wall he picked for himself to hit. Just as he had raised his second dagger, his fingers thrumming decisively against the hilt as his gaze fell upon his next target - the prince paused in his act, lowering the blade and turning his head just mere inches to allow his eyes to fully absorb the sight of the male that had just spoken his simple greeting. Solaris. “Good morning.” Evander replied passively, albeit no emotion laced over the verbal formality. Not that Ev was coldly apathetic, just abundantly reserved in terms of expression.

In the few seconds Evander had allowed himself to observe Solaris, he came to the swift conclusion that the male had no interest in picking up arms at the moment. Thoughtfully Ev twirled the dagger in his grasp before sheathing it at his thigh, his hands brushing off the dust that had not accumulated on his black short sleeved tunic - the fabric was not as familiar to his touch even despite the amount of time that has passed since he was cast out of his own home, but he wasn’t one to mourn the loss of many materials. As he finished the act of brushing himself back into pristine condition, the Prince’s posture stiffened as his head swiveled barely to the side to further keep an eye on the entity behind him. Evander did not expect his own group members - despite the short time he’s attempted to fully acquaint himself with them all- to stab him in the back, literally or figuratively. But there was hardly ever a time one could catch the Prince with his guard lowered.

Admittedly, the words passed through Solaris’ lips were peculiar enough to ensnare the Prince’s sense of curiosity. It was no facade for Evander to display that of being casually neutral, even more so as he gave the younger man a thoughtful hum before fully turning to face him. “I think I would recall such a conversation between us if you had.” Ev replied, his arms loosely folding over his frame, his brow raising just enough to express a mild intrigue in what Solaris had said. Solaris had been oddly casual in his delivery, and Evander planned to match that nature - not that he would have reacted with anything more than what he was offering the male right now though. “Care to elaborate? Such a claim of your capabilities has rightfully earned my attention.” Evander continued, as if granting Solaris permission to continue. Though in fact the Prince simply desired to acquire as much information as possible now without drawing the conversation out with throwaway comments and small talk. It was always considered a miracle for Ev to engage in meaningless conversation - most of his answers or contributions being either short or quick to move onto a fixed point of conversation. He never spoke curtly though, and there wasn’t exactly any tell-tale sign that he was enjoying -or disliking- certain engagements with others. He was always polite. Steady. Patient. Calm. All but his eyes of course, which were only synonymous to the ever-brewing storm harboring within the Prince.