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Neutral
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Carter Tulatan | M | 24 | Royal Guard | Mentions: The Suitors (Ind.), The Heirs (Ind.), Varik (Dir.) ... The morning chill bit at his face, a welcome relief from the heat trapped beneath his armor and leather. Glancing at the haze that lingered promised a warmer day, causing him to sigh. He'd likely have to change his armor when he was relieved from watch, it would be unberable in the warmer temperature. Movement on the horizon drew his attention, sharp eyes narrowing on the small shapes. Looked like a carriage with an escort, more than likely their first sign of one of the suitors. Just the thought had him scowling, as if the palace wasn't chaotic enough with the debate of succession, now they had to contend with suitors with their own agendas. Carter couldn't be more annoyed by the prospect, he had enough of a headache looking after the heirs. He wasn't looking forward to it, but he'd do his duty regardless of his personal views. He briefly pondered on his home, Hatilly was likely to send someone, he could only guess who his uncle would choose. Carter had a fear the man would force his cousin, but he hoped that perhaps the man could be reasonable. This was no place for someone like her. Footsteps on the stone approached breaking his train of thought, the gate even and slow. Glancing sidelong at the figure who approached and stopped beside him, Carter dipped his head at Varik. A comfortable silence filled the space as they stood and watched the horizon, the rays of the morning sun sending streaks of light across the land. A beautiful sight despite the uncertainty that lingered over the palace. He held a respect for the man, by far the more capable he'd come across, it didn't hurt that they trained together as boys either. A better time he briefly lamented before Variks low voice reached him. He grunted at the comment, a slight smirk pulling the corner of his mouth. "I would think many with a brain would agree, as if things weren't tense enough" he shook his head with a shrug. Looking over to Varik at the motion of his sword, oh how he could agree. Carter had spent a time before his watch fixing the sub-par work of the new squire, perhaps he'd have a chat with the boy later. "We should prepare for the worst, and just hope that doesn't happen" Carter grumbled distastefully. He knew what it meant that the man would speak freely around him, and for that he held Varik in a different level than the rest of the guard. They'd been through alot and that meant something to Carter, weather he voiced it out loud or not. Varik was a trusted and welcomed brother in arms, one he'd probably grow bitter without having around. The only one worth talking with casually or even conversing with in general, everyon either saw the royals as infalable or they thought they could get something from being part of the guard. Fools, the lot of them. But Carter was different, from a young age he'd had a different view of the role. He'd come to see Varik shared a few of those views, and that made him easier to get along with. He chuckled to himself at the thought, of course they had their disagreements, but who didn't?
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Darkseeker
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Vada Esmeralda | 20 | Handmaiden | M: (dir.) Alessi The young woman strides through the great halls of Amadon after her routine visit of delivering food to the heirs. Her movements were fluid and quick as she glided through the hallways. Her eyes casted outside seeing incoming carriages for the royal suitors to win the hands of the heirs. Vada made a face in disgust and anger. She was going to have to serve more royals with their soft pamper hands. She let out a deep groan in frustration at the suitors soon to be arriving. Then she had to most likely serve food or drink at the ball listening to the unnecessary gossip that these judgemental prudes have to talk about all the time. SHe could deal with the heirs as she came to use them, but they weren’t gossip if anything they were usually mysterious or up to no good. They all needed a babysitter in some type of way. Plus, she has been observant enough to see their hand in hand relationship. Vada was not friends with them, but she would have conversations with Briar, Vada would never outright right admit that she was okay to be around. Though Briar has shared her distaste about her sister, which Vada was glad to hear because she shared the similar dislike for her. Vada and Briar would often gossip or just speak poorly about the princess behind closed doors, as Vada was almost a spy for Briar. After Vada witnessed Katriya failing to keep things to herself and willing to tell people secrets that weren’t hers to share. She had a vendetta against her. Though Vada truly doesn’t know why Briar has a vendetta against her. But she simply assumes it is a simple sibling rivalry. Vada tucked her hair behind her ears as she walked past the royal guards conversing with each other. Something that the royal guards and handmaidens shared was they had their duties to the crown. While Vada and her fellow handmaidens served and pampered the crown of Amadon, the royal guards protected and died for the crown. She strolled past them as her eyes landed on Alessi. She narrowed her eyes at the young male with a sharp frown on her face. She kept her chin up and softly remarked “Wow you are actually awake without someone waking you up.. Look you are grown man now,”
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Lightbringer
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Dane Wyndhaven | 20 |Water Heir | M: Fluff, golden fluff and then a sudden unceremonious thud followed by the wind being knocked out of his lungs and a sharp pain blooming in his chest. That was Dane's wakeup call. Some may say it's nice to wake up to your pet loving on you, and while Dane would agree, he wasn't too terribly appreciative of the bruise that was bound to form. If it hadn't of been for the weight of his golden retriever, Hudson, laying squarely on his chest, he would have sat bolt upright, instead Dane let out a gasp followed by a low groan. His bright blue eyes opened for a moment before shutting again as Dane reached up to pet Hudson's incredibly soft fur, he could feel the dog’s warm breath against his face and frantic tail-wagging against his leg. The prince's mind was still foggy with sleep as he layed there for a while, finding it slightly hard to breathe but managing. But the slobbery swipe of Hudson's tongue across Dane's cheek caused to jolt him from the disorienting haze of sleep, and he clumsily swatted at Hudson’s head. Hudson merely responded with a jubilant bark before leaping off the bed, landing on the stone floor with a loud clack of claws. The bed creaked as Dane sat up with a groggy sigh, tousling his already messy raven hair until it stuck out at odd angles. The room was dimly lit, softened by the milky light filtering through a veil of haze outside the window. With a glance, he could tell the weather: a cool, cloudy spring morning. That’s when the sinking realization hit him. “...Oh no,” he muttered, the sound of people in the hallways finally filtering into his sleep clouded brain. If his thoughts were as slow as molasses before, they were racing now. He was late—hours late, by his standards. His responsibilities as a prince, as stifling as they were, demanded early mornings full of tedious preparation, meetings, and appearances. And today of all days, he was supposed to be alert, punctual. Some perfect prince he was. "Damn it Hudson." He cursed beneath his breath, rushing over to his wardrobe, "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?!" Hudson just wagged his tail and barked happily, trotting over to jump up on his unprepared dad, who stumbled further into the walk-in closet. He let out a soft grunt before scratching behind Hudson's ears. Dane rubbed his face, trying to banish the last traces of sleep from his mind. He couldn't exactly pinpoint why he had been so exhausted recently, but deep down he knew it was everything. He heard the way the castle whispered, rumors of who he was circulating and rumors of his siblings and his powers. He knew it was the masquerade ball tonight, looming over his head like a storm. The thought made his stomach tighten uncomfortably, and Dane let his hands drop to his sides with a sigh. He knew what it meant. The formal meeting of heirs and suitors. A neutral setting, supposedly designed to ease the tension, but everyone knew better. It was a forced interaction—one that would carry a thousand unspoken pressures and expectations. Expectations that Dane had no desire to meet. He didn't want this. He didn't want any of this. The weight of it all, of being prince, felt especially heavy today. It was supposed to be a grand opportunity—a chance to welcome alliances, forge relationships—but to Dane, it was just another reminder of his gilded cage. He would have to smile, act the part, and play into their image of him: the perfect, charming prince, unburdened by his own insecurities. But beneath all the layers of appearances, he was just Dane. A man who wished he could crawl back under the covers and forget the day existed. A man who wished he could slip away to the gardens, where the air was earthy and still, the only sounds coming from birdsong and Hudson bounding happily through the grass. A man who just wanted to go tend to his garlic, onions, and carrots without having to look over his shoulder and make sure no one was watching. A man who was tired of having to act like he was perfect. Hudson whined, as though sensing Dane’s spiraling thoughts, and nudged his knee with his wet nose. Dane glanced down at the dog and smiled faintly, scratching behind his ears. “You’re right, you’re right. I can’t just sit here and sulk, can I?” Reluctantly, Dane turned away from the wardrobe and began to pull himself together. He grabbed the closest article of clothing—a loose linen shirt—and slipped it over his head, yawning again as he padded over to a water basin to splash cold water on his face. The chill shocked him into a sharper alertness, though it did little to chase away the sense of dread coiling in his chest. “Masquerade ball,” he mumbled to his reflection, staring at his reddened cheeks and tired eyes. “You’ll survive it. One night. Just one night. Then you can turn down everyone, and go back to normal life. Keep it one more day. I can do this." But Dane wasn’t sure he believed that. With Hudson now trailing at his heels like a devoted shadow, Dane began to dress more properly, deciding today called for something much too extravagant than his favorite outfits, something plain but presentable. It was too early for the heavy formality of a prince’s garb—he wasn’t ready for that but did he have a choice? As he laced up his boots and ran a hand through his still-wild hair, he stole a glance at Hudson, who stared back expectantly, tail thumping against the floor. “Fine, let’s get this over with,” Dane said with an exaggerated sigh, though the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “But if anyone gives me grief about being late, I’m blaming you.” Hudson barked in agreement, and together they stepped out into the cool, stone halls of the castle, where the quiet murmur of voices and the shuffle of handmaidens preparing for the day echoed faintly around him. Whatever the day had in store, Dane would face it, however begrudgingly. At the very least, he had Hudson by his side—and for now, that was enough.
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Lightbringer
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Edited at December 17, 2024 10:42 PM by Dont Fear The Reaper
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Lightbringer
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Edited at December 17, 2024 10:42 PM by Dont Fear The Reaper
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Lightbringer
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How did this post four times- Edited at December 17, 2024 10:41 PM by Dont Fear The Reaper
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Neutral
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Anastasia "Kova" Volkova | M | 22 | Balice Suitor | M: Basille (dir.) ~ Ana underestimated the stares. - Sure, he was striking. It likely wasn't often that these people laid eyes on a man who was pale enough to blend into snow, and appeared as if he was forged directly from the tundra. He was an odd sight, and by now, he was sure that he was known by it. It was a gamble in his mind, however, whether the stares were due to his looks, or the fact that it was painfully obvious what he was here for. - He did not meet their eyes. Well, he tried not to. There was no point in looking at them, yet, anyway. - Instead, Anastasia inspected the state of the streets, the homes, the shops, which seemed oddly unkempt since the last time he'd been. Amadon was not a poor kingdom, nor was Vacathia, but Vacathia had never been a settlement of rich families. The system worked similar to any other kindgom - higher-ups and those with more wealth lived closer to the palace. On the outskirts, here, it was certainly not poor, and it never had looked it before, but now, that seems to have changed. There are more ragged, starved-looking kids than before; more women staggering up to their horses, begging for gold; more drunk or wasted men sprawled around, appearing nearly lifeless. It was not as bad as Razaviv, to be sure, but it was enough to disgust him. - "Sire," Basille murmured, still at his side. "Are you contemplating the state of the village?" He seemed to have thought the same thing. - Now that Anastasia considered it, the state was bad, but he was less concerned with how it disgusted him, and more concerned with how he would fix it, if he truly had a shot at the throne. A royal position that high would certainly put him in the position to use funds to repair this small town - and while it would put him as a "peasant-lover" in the eyes of the nobles, it would give him an advantage of the people, and at times, that could be more important tham having the advantage of the nobles. - "Sire?" - "Yes," Ana replied placidly, his eyes trained on a young girl, by herself, barefoot, holding a basket of bread. As a person would walk by, she would hold up the basket to them, and they would shake their head, causing her shoulders to sag slightly. Kildren went on, and the girl came out of his sight. - It wasn't much longer of traveling through Vacathia until the houses and shops became cleanlier, and there were less people strewn across the ground. The eyes that watched, however, only became more, and whispers of both excitement and trepidation arose. Anastasia tuned them all out. He could care less what these people thought of him. He had other worries. - The paths and streets slanted upward, winding around homes that became much larger and much more sophistocated, and the view of Nova Yarost became much more clear. The closer they came, the farther the bile rose up into Ana's throat, and the more anxious he felt. He couldn't exactly place why; he felt as if he should be more annoyed and indifferent in this instance than nervous. - Before long, Basille had taken his steed in front of him, and they trotted a bit more formally, making their way upward, to the palace that jutted out of the side of the looming mountain above them. It looked a lot more imposing than last time, but perhaps the reason for that was simply additions to the building itself. It only seemed to get larger as they approached, their horses pausing before the large gates. Anastasia dismounted Kildren, swallowing thickly and looking out at Amadon's castle. - Well. Here goes nothing.
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Neutral
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Illariy Ezrah | M | 21 | Kalinga Suitor | M: "Servant" [NPC] (dir.), "Captain" [NPC] (ind.), "Crew" [NPC] (ind.) ~ The sea was his true home. - Not some fancy, polished palace with gold laid into the food and silver lining the floors. Not some large, spacious room that had much too little decorating. Not some noble building with endless spires and hallways with paintings of old, rich people and goblets that were simply decorative and not for drinking out of. - Over the past week, being in the midst of the Zhest Bay, sitting at the highest possible point he could find on the ship, Illariy had time to consider what he wanted to do once he got to Amadon. - He did not want the throne. He never wanted any royal position, but he didn't exacrly have an excuse to run off. It wasn't like he was going away to live with some forbidden love. And where could he go in Eldaron that his parents wouldn't find him? Virtually nowhere. - He tried his best to be optimistic, though. - At least he got to meet new people? - Illariy took in the scent of the maritime wind, trying to absorb as much of it as he could before it was taken away from him, and looking out at the slowly approaching form of Amadon. He hadn't been to the mainland before he became an adult - but afterward, he visited simply out of pure curiosity, and ended up hating it. No, the waters were where he belonged. He felt he might get sick if he had to be away from them too long. That was the good thing about Amadon. At the very least, it was near the coast, and gave a clear view of Eldaron's eastern seas. The only bad part was that he'd most likely be cooped up inside for what he estimated would be an eternity, and worse yet, might not even get a room with a view. Just the thought was already making him queasy. - "Illariy," a voice called from below him. One of his servants, or crew, he assumed; most likely one of which he had asked to call him Illy, like every other normal noble did, but they seemed hesitant to only call him 'sir' and 'your majesty'. He was appreciative that he'd gotten them to use his first name, instead of those stupid royal titles, but it was still a bit annoying that they were so hesitant. He turned his gaze away from the wind that was whipping around his dark blonde hair and looked down at the woman in the placid white dress. - "The captain advised you not sit up there," she said, the breeze nearly whipping her frail little voice away. He knew she spoke with as much respect as she could muster without disturbing his wishes, but her tone still caused him to sigh. If he were any other royal, the way she spoke to him could go as far as getting her sentenced to death. Rather than annoy him, it fuelled his pity for the woman. She was only a messenger. - Illariy slid down the ropes, landing on the wood below him with a gentle thunk that, he noticed, caused her to flinch subtly. - "You're quite alright, my dear," he reassured, patting her softly on the shoulder, which always seemed to catch his subordinates off guard, no matter how much he did it. "You're doing excellent. Thank you." - He turned away, walking off to the front of the ship, past the scarce members of the crew, who did their best to continue their lazy conversations even after he passed. Illariy leaned againat the polished boards keeping him from plummeting into the water, staring as the land came closer, the sadness creeping into his heart. - The sea was his true home. Edited at December 18, 2024 09:04 PM by Lackadaisy
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Neutral
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Zira Ela Lucius | F | 20 | Hatilly Suitor | M: Landow[NPC] (dir), Marian[NPC] (dir), The Heirs (ind) ... She wasn't sure how long they'd been traveling, having dozed off at some point. The vast grasslands turned into streets and buildings, Zira blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected the city of Drafte to be like this, sure it wasn't as bad as Polis but it wasn't anything like she'd pictured. The streets were a mess causing the carriage to tip and rock unsteadily, the people looked half-starved. She watched a few beggars try to approach the guards only to be waved off, yet so many more watched her and her escort pass. She felt her skin crawl, all this attention making her uneasy, and it would only get worse. As they passed into Vacathia she watched through the small window how the streets became cleaner, people were dressed nicer and no one seemed to be begging for scraps. It was strange to see such a distinction between the two cities, but in some ways, she could understand why it was this way. Zira glanced over to Landow who was scowling out the window, Marian looked lost in thought, likely daydreaming about meeting the heirs. Shaking her head she turned her attention back outside, glancing at the large palace snuggled up into the mountainside, her nerves doing another summersault. "Lady Zira, I understand you must be nervous. But do keep your head held high, you are the only daughter of Hatilly royalty. That is something to have pride in". The older man chided harshly having noticed how she'd shrunk into her seat, Zira frowned and attempted to sit straighter. She clenched the fabric of her dress into fists trying to calm herself, jumping in her seat with wide eyes as Marian's hand reached over to clasp her own. "Everything will be alright my Lady, you'll see! I'm sure the heirs will be most welcoming to you!" The woman's optimism was starting to become overbearing, could she not see that this wasn't something Zira wanted? Managing to pry her hand free from the older woman's, grimacing as she shifted to put some space between them on the small carriage bench. "You can't be certain of that, and what's to say the heirs even want this. They're not in a much different situation, being forced to choose a partner. I can only imagine the pressure they're facing". Zira muttered glancing back out the window as the driver tapped the top of the carriage, signaling they were arriving. She felt her stomach twist as her throat closed up, she'd hoped she'd have more time to prepare herself. Landow nodded to her before stepping out followed shortly after by Marian, taking a breath she gathered her nerves and stepped out of the carriage. Smiling as she took the hand extended to her by one of the guards, helping her step onto the cobblestone safetly. Brushing her silvery hair from her face Zira glanced up at the palace and swallowed, this was it, she could only hope to hold it together long enough to get through this.
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