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Darkseeker
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The World The world is teeming with endless life forms, from the tiniest pixies to the larges ogres there are kingdoms that dominant factions. The very nature of long-lived species is to cause conflict, to fight tooth and nail against one another for the resources available. Whether a kingdom makes allies or enemies, in the game of war there are never true friends. Spread across continents, kingdoms rule over their people with undivided loyalty. Each distract being primarily made up of their mother-race, befitting of their stereotyped traits. All ruling families must send their children to the great school known simply as The Academy. Here they will interact with heirs from other kingdoms, close and far. An ideal time to make alliances or take out the next generation of rulars before they are properly equipped. The Academy is no child's play. At the end of each year, the graduating students will be selected by their families to attent the Tournament. A series of trials and death defying displays where the winner will walk away with the entire haul of donated prizes. Soldiers, gold, weaponry, medicine, food, marriange, anything and everything is up for grabs. If a family does not have a new heir for that years games, then the last heir is expected to attend or send a Champion in their place. Most, if not all, heirs select the latter. ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ The Plot 8 Contenders are preparing for the Tournament. With a month to go before the games begin, alliances and enemies are to be made. Great celebrations are held and many are killed whilst the noble children of the academy watch on with excitement. Will these 8 competitors work together, slaughter or rise above it all? ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ Kingdom Overview Marmoor / Arcane Kingdom : ̗̀➛ Known for their psychic and telepathic abilities. Ethereal, enigmatic. Contender : ̗̀➛ Andromeda Orchid Nibrook / Desert Kingdom : ̗̀➛ Known for their brutality, ferality and impulsiveness. All true Nibrook inhabitants have some kind of animalistic feature. Wild, unruly. Contender : ̗̀➛ Leon Finoviard Ice Kingdom : ̗̀➛ Contender : ̗̀➛ Astrid Sigr Dal'Fridrson Shadow Kingdom : ̗̀➛ Contender : ̗̀➛ Currently NPC Misebury / Sun Kingdom : ̗̀➛ Noble, brave and proud nation. Descendents of the beast men of the Desert Kingdom, very far removed. Known for their strength, stamina and affinity for magical weaponry. A proud kingdom made up of brave and noble people. Descendents of the beasts from Nibrook, they are no longer a slave to their instincts. Instead, they utilise the high stamina and strength to weild great weapons capable of mass destruction. Known as the Sun Kingdom. Contender : ̗̀➛ Currently NPC Slyhelm / Mist Kingdom : ̗̀➛ Known for their spies, double agents and assassins. Frequently hired by other nations for attacks on their enemies, meaning one day they might be your friend, the next your killer. Rougish, tough, adaptive. A kingdom made of assassins, double agents, and spies. The noble and royal lines are a mixture of animal shifters and full blood shapeshifters that can take on the face of another human. The highborns are usually contracted out by other nations, meaning they have a lot of frenemies. Known as the Mist Kingdom. Contender : ̗̀➛ Currently NPC Alderburn / Forest Kingdom : ̗̀➛ Known for their kindness and naive nature, they are so in tune with the surrounding forest that it is almost unnerving. Their largest issue with the constant battles is the harm it brings to their nature. Soft, angelic, forgiving. A nature heavy kingdom that are truly in tune with the spirits of the land, including the animals. A people of kind and forgiving nature, they are often too trusting and end up being injured. Known as the Forest Kingdom. Contender : ̗̀➛ Kyyre Rüdiger Aakre Mausegate / Fire Kingdom : ̗̀➛ Bright and strong willed people known for their pyromania. Fearless towards anything related to heat and fire, they can be a terrifying presence. A brutish kingdom made up of domineering and powerful individuals. Known as the Fire Kingdom, its noble and royal lines are gifted with the ability of pyrokinetics. Contender : ̗̀➛ Currently NPC - Champion in lieu of heir |
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Darkseeker
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Off the coast of the mainland, sits an island. Large enough to warrant its own name, Nanram Isles, surrounded by smaller protrusions of land. Encompassing the entire landmass are a cacophony of spells and incantations to protect what lies within. The Academy, as it is simply known, is home to the next generation of the entire continent’s people. Nobility and royal families send their children here to coax out secrets about other kingdoms, form alliances and destroy potential threats. Described as a peaceful sanctuary free from the burdens of the war stricken world they all live in, but all parent’s know what they are signing their children up for. Especially the royals. A massacre. Be it of lives, honour, image, it can all be destroyed in the tournament. The day of graduation has come to fruition, all relevant students are gathered in the courtyard. Settled in the centre of the main island, limestone ruins of sky high pillars and archways, covered in encroaching plants, trailing up their bodies. A mosaic of natural earthy stone lines the floor, depicting a rising sun and a crescent moon, currently hidden away by the numerous figures occupying the space. Younger students look on from the higher buildings, from the windows in their dorms, speculating which royal will be the first to fall and who will rise above the rest.
The clearing was bustling with people, milling around one another as they waited for the headmaster to commence the gathering. Leon found himself in the centre of the crowd, his tail tucked close to his leg to avoid it being trodden on. He had been stuffed into the restrictive uniform, the collar tugged at his neck and made it difficult to breathe. Only one more day of conformity before he would be able to commence the tournament. He had already been informed by his mother that he was to be participating this year, and this year was special. What made it special, she neglected to tell him. The sun glared off of the alabaster limestone ruins of the gathering space, runes carved into the tall pillars encircling them all. It was difficult to look ahead to the raised platform where the few teachers lingered, waiting for their superior to speak. He had always enjoyed the bright open space of the courtyard, though when there were this many people it made it hard to enjoy. That year he had barely focused on his theoretical studies, why should he? He had no magical capacity, simply himself. Why learn the theory of how to cast a spell he would never be able to wield? Stupid and his family were in agreement. Instead, he committed himself to practising for the tournament, as that was all that really mattered in the end. They needed the supplies that would make up the winnings, but so did every other kingdom. He had already thwarted the eldest heir from Misebury; he was now dead and buried as a result. Serves him right for taking the cowards route, sneaking outside his room to aim his bow inside. Luckily, Leon was prowling outside that evening and had caught the older heir by surprise. However, that meant a more practiced fighter would be sent in his sted, that or an older heir would be his undoing. A terribly honourable person is what they had claimed Misebury's heir was, Leon scoffed at the notion, what honourable man would try to kill his rival in their sleep. “Silence.” His voice boomed out across the courtyard, the man was a strong magic user, clearly using some kind of spell to project his voice. After a minute of final shuffling and mumbling, he continued. “You all know why we are gathered here today.” A few murmurs of excitement. “After years of dedication to your schooling, today you all graduate and depart from this island as fully formed and distinguished individuals. Ready to bring back your knowledge to your kingdoms and bring forth a new wave of innovation and greatness.” Leon was growing impatient, he did not care about these other people, they were lesser than them. They would go home, work on a farm, die on a battlefield or some other un-heroic manner. He would rule the kingdoms. They were ants for him to squash. “But for some,” The man’s face split into a wide feline grin before continuing. “For some of you, this is the beginning of your route to glory.” He raised his suited hands high up to the sky as he spoke. “The heirs of the kingdoms shall commence their training and tournament as of tomorrow. As soon as the moon rises to its highest point, we shall begin the spectacle!” The sick joy in his voice was poignant, if the grin wasn’t enough of a give away. Every teacher had bets laid on the tournament, who would kill who, who would give up, who would simply run. Anything and everything was up for grabs. However, Leon had counted the heirs that loomed around the halls and there were not twelve. Nowhere near twelve. Unusual, the rulers of the kingdoms seemed to be popping out children every two seconds. There was one person he knew would be returning. She had not been crowned that year and it was widely known the leaders of Marmoor did not produce more than one heir. She would keep returning until she became the ruler of Marmoor and even then she must attend until her own child is of age. “I am sure some of you have noticed. We do not have a representative from each kingdom here with us today amongst the graduating cohort.” The headmaster stepped to the side and flicked a robed arm to the heavy veil of curtains behind him, turning his own head to gaze upon them with a giddiness that made him look unhinged. “Filling out our ranks, champions have been sent to compete alongside this year’s graduates.” With a flare, he flicked his wrist and the curtains whipped back to reveal a small collection of people waiting behind them. Leon’s heart leapt from his chest as he raised to his toes in an attempt to get a better look but he was too far away to make out faces just yet. The crowd began to murmur with excitement upon one particular person’s arrival to the stage. His tail was as stiff as a board until his locked onto a woman clad in wispy ribbons of laced fabric, the tiny gems glittering in the harsh sunlight. Andromeda. His tail swished from side to side at the sight of her. He had admired her in the past games, a dominating force that had stuck to the shadows like a viper prepared to strike. The second year she had returned after graduating had not been so successful, the crushing defeat had made his blood boil as he observed. She was everything he was not, poised, graceful and intelligent. Good gods, was she intelligent, that’s how she had won the first tournament. Beside him, he could feel the slip in emotion amongst the other participating graduates. It coaxed him to twist his neck, eyes flashing with interest as he observed the myriad of expressions within their ranks. Leon had never really been one to stick with close friends, more of a floating presence among all circles. Of particular note was the stern taut jaw of Astrid, he didn’t have to ask him why he looked so frazzled. It was well known that the Ice Kingdom’s graduate from the same year as Andromeda had been sent home a complete mess. Not only that, he had died soon after. Beside him was the fair-headed man, Leon had spoken even less to him. Kyyre was his name, crowned heir of Alderburn. The expression on Kyyre’s face was a little more difficult for Leon to decipher. __________________________________________________________________ Andromeda’s eyes squinted ever so slightly as the curtains were pulled back, in the darkened area she had not been able to pick out who was who. Instead, she remained silent where she was, waiting for the blistering light to pierce through the curtains. As it did, she took a few pointed steps forwards with the others, graceful in her movement and terribly light-footed. The quiet click of her white-gold heels against the stone is the only sound for the briefest moment. Wrapped around her form was a mixture of silken fabrics and light lace pearlescent in its colour. Not something she would have selected for herself, but it was what her father had wanted. A representation of Marmoor, not of herself. It was a swirling delicate dress that had been tailored to her figure specifically, glittering in the sunlight like an unearthly siren. The tails of the fabric shifted gently in the breeze as Andromeda met the eyes of the graduates, all staring up at the gathered heirs. They looked small and meek in comparison to the heavy presence that now dominated the stage. “These champions have been sent by their respective kingdoms to participate in the tournament and bring glory to their home lands.” The headmaster raised his voice to combat the lifted volume of the crowd gathered. “The lovely exception to these two champions from Mausegate and Misebury,” He gave pause to land his shrew eyes upon her. “Andromeda Orchid, returning for her third year as the Marmoor heir.” His voice dripped with a sickness that Andromeda recognised, he had bet upon her. Whether he had bet to her victory or demise, that was a more difficult thing to conclude. Her painted lips curled in the familiar fake smile as she dipped her torso in a practiced curtsy, the corners of her eyes creased so that nobody could see the dullness in them. These gathered people did not care if she won or died, in fact many would be elated to see her guts torn from her ribs in a dramatic fashion. That thought brought a sly glint to her pale eyes as she returned to standing upright, delicate hands pulled in front of her midsection as the headmaster began to call off the heir’s names. With each name that was spoken, the heir was summoned to the stage. They were to be made spectacles for the masses, which would begin tonight at the ball. An extraordinary show of wealth from all families, glorious outfits, exotic wines and many lies. |
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The air in the courtyard was thick with tension, a blend of excitement, fear, and the faint metallic tang of bloodlust that seemed to seep from the very limestone ruins. Astrid stood amidst the chaos, his imposing figure cutting through the milling crowd like a boulder in a rushing river. His muscular arms were crossed over his broad chest, the long, sleek black hair cascading down his back catching the light with every slight movement, aside from the small bun that part of it was pulled up into. His face was stoic, his honey-brown and ocean-blue eyes scanning the gathered heirs and graduates with quiet calculation. Leaning against Astrid was Kyyre, his smaller frame almost folding into the broader man’s side. Ky’s pale skin seemed to glow faintly in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos surrounding them. His white hair was slightly disheveled, and his pink eyes, though half-lidded with exhaustion, darted nervously around the crowd. One thin arm was slung around Astrid’s neck as though anchoring himself against the overwhelming tide of attention. His forehead rested against Astrid’s shoulder, seeking solace in the only place he could find it. Astrid offered no outward sign of discomfort at the younger man’s closeness, though his jaw tightened slightly each time another graduate or noble sidled up to him with congratulations or small talk. His bland smiles were perfunctory, never touching his eyes. He let out a small sigh of relief when the booming voice of the headmaster cut through the noise. “Silence,” the headmaster commanded, his amplified voice carrying authority and an undercurrent of dark amusement. The crowd gradually quieted, and Astrid turned his attention to the raised platform. He listened with his usual impassivity, though his thoughts churned beneath the surface. The headmaster’s words of glory and dedication washed over him, meaningless platitudes that did nothing to quell the growing storm within. As the announcement shifted to the tournament, his focus sharpened. His gaze flicked to the unveiled champions stepping forward, and there she was: Andromeda Orchid. Astrid’s jaw hardened, his teeth clenched tight enough to crack stone. His gaze burned with barely restrained fury, the depths of it roiling like an angry sea. She stood there, poised and radiant, her silken dress shimmering like moonlight on water. Her every movement was a calculated display of grace and power, and he loathed her for it. This was the woman who had destroyed his family’s champion, reducing a proud warrior to a hollow shell before their untimely death. The image of her pretty face splattered against a wall brought a momentary flicker of satisfaction. But no—he would wait. Her death would be public, theatrical, a message to the world. Beside him, Kyyre stirred, his breath hitching slightly. He had been on the verge of falling asleep, lulled by Astrid’s steady presence, but the sudden shift in atmosphere snapped him back to reality. His pink eyes blinked up at Astrid, unfocused and uncertain. “Stay with me,” Astrid murmured, his voice low and firm. He caught the albino’s slight frame as Kyyre nearly collapsed, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. The gentle gesture was a stark contrast to the fury burning in Astrid’s gaze as he stared past Kyyre, back at the stage. “Astrid Dal'Fridrson,” the headmaster called. Astrid straightened, his movements precise and deliberate. He gently shifted Kyyre aside, ensuring the younger man was stable before stepping forward. Kyyre wavered slightly, his pale fingers brushing against Astrid’s sleeve as though reluctant to let go. “You’ll be fine,” Astrid said quietly, his voice carrying a rare note of reassurance. Kyyre nodded, though his wide eyes betrayed his anxiety. As Astrid made his way to the stage, his powerful strides drew murmurs from the crowd. He ascended with the weight of centuries of Dal'-Son legacy on his shoulders, his eyes locked onto Andromeda as he took his place beside her. For a moment, his gaze flicked over her form, assessing weaknesses, calculating strategies. She was elegant, no doubt about it, but elegance could be broken. Andromeda didn’t look at him directly, though the faintest smirk played at the corner of her painted lips, as though she could feel his hatred radiating toward her. Astrid’s fists clenched at his sides. Not yet, he reminded himself. Not yet. “Kyyre Aakre,” the headmaster’s voice rang out. Kyyre jumped at the sound of his name, his thin frame jolting as though struck. A flurry of apologetic murmurs tumbled from his lips as he pushed through the crowd, his movements awkward and hurried. He stumbled once, nearly losing his balance, but managed to right himself just in time. His cheeks flushed pink, the only color on his pale face, as he reached the stage and took his place beside Astrid. Astrid’s hand slid to Kyyre’s back, a grounding presence that steadied the trembling young man. The albino heir’s shoulders were hunched, his eyes fixed on the ground as though avoiding the weight of the stares directed at him. “You’re doing fine,” Astrid muttered, his voice a low rumble meant only for Kyyre. Kyyre nodded again, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to regulate his breathing. The presence of Astrid’s hand was a small comfort in the overwhelming sea of attention. The headmaster continued to call names, each heir stepping forward to take their place on the stage. The crowd below murmured with growing excitement, speculating on alliances and rivalries. Astrid’s gaze flicked between the gathered heirs, cataloging each face, each potential threat. But his focus always returned to Andromeda. He caught the faintest twitch of her fingers, the subtle shift of her weight, and his mind raced with possibilities. Kyyre, meanwhile, was struggling to keep his composure. His anxiety was a physical thing, a tightening in his chest that made it hard to breathe. The weight of expectation pressed down on him, and the whispers from the crowd felt like needles against his skin. He clung to Astrid’s steady presence like a lifeline, drawing what strength he could from the stoic man beside him. As the headmaster’s speech drew to a close, the crowd erupted into applause, the noise echoing off the ruins. Astrid remained still, his expression unchanging. Kyyre flinched at the sound, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The stage was set, and the players were in position. The tournament loomed on the horizon, a storm ready to break. Astrid’s resolve solidified. He would see this through, no matter the cost. For his family. For his honor. For the blood that demanded retribution. Beside him, Kyyre took a shaky breath, his pink eyes darting to Astrid for reassurance. The older man’s hand tightened briefly on his back, a silent promise of protection. They would face whatever lay ahead. But Astrid’s mind was already fixed on one thing: Andromeda’s demise. |
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Darkseeker
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He stood by and watched as heir’s were commanded to the stage one by one, each with a different air of authority. Well, all but one. His eyes caught the fumbling footsteps of the Alderburn heir as his name was shouted out from the dias, Kyyre. So that was his name. With that tucked away in the crevices of his mind, Leon’s tail flicked behind him as he was next to be called. “Leon Finoviard!” Leon felt his heart gutter with excitement as he deftly swept his way through the throngs of people, most parting for his tall figure as he demanded space with broad shoulders barely contained by his uniform. It was unnatural for his family and any member of Nibrook to be so confined by clothing. The desert demanded respect, their bodies decorated with paint and ink to celebrate their deep connection to their ancestors. The burden of the sun bore down on their land, meaning more often than not, Leon was shivering here at the Academy while others were sunbathing. He half stepped, half jumped up onto the stage with a wide fanged grin settling onto his jaw. Making his way with a swagger across the long paved bricks before taking up his position beside this Kyyre. Leon made no effort to hide his interest in the other heirs, bright eyes flashing with interest at the closeness of the pair beside him. Kyyre looked as though he had seen the world crashing down around him, but the steady man beside him was linking him to reality. That was certainly an interesting connection. He couldn’t help but ponder the idea how deep that connection went. That and the many ways it could be used against the much stronger Ice Kingdom heir. Andromeda on the other hand held her head high, staring out to the masses as each heir was called to the stage beside her. She knew little of these new graduates. Their names, yes. Their capabilities, no. That was what she needed to figure out before those first bells sang out to declare the beginning of the trials. It did not take long to piece together who the new ice brat was, the daggers she sensed from beside her were enough indication to alert her to his arrival. The irritation that radiated from beside her only made her lips twitch in the beginning of a smirk. Pleased to know that those wounds were still fresh, it was something that made people brash. Impulsive, and that made them easy targets. “That concludes our graduation and introduction to this years tournament! Tonight we shall feast and enjoy ourselves in preparation for the tournament’s first trial!” The headmaster flicked his arms out to either side of himself in a grand finale of his speech. There was little else to be said. Lesser nobles were graduating to return home to their families, prepared to serve under the royal families. A good few would stay behind to watch the thinly veiled excuse for outright murder, those were nobles she could respect. Andromeda knew how this went, turning on her heel she gave one last flowery wave to the surrounding crowds Drawing cheers, particularly from the Marmoor nobles and socialites gathered, dressed in their wispy-misty attire. The soft click of her heels sounded out from beneath her as she led the train of heirs back behind the velvet curtains. Stepping through the veil of darkness, they entered the short corridor with high arches, on the other side a gardener’s wet dream of a courtyard. The late morning sun filtering through the archways, creating a rather lovely pattern on the limestone walls that crawled with ivy. She should turn and leave to her quarters, but she found herself wanting to tease the angry dog instead. They would each be given extravagant quarters, every heir would receive one. Befitting their nation, decked out in the most luxurious decor and pleasantries, there quarters were only used during the tournament. A last hurrah for many that participated. How kind of the academy to gift them that before their gruesome death. Andromeda paused in the corridor and turned to face the rest of the heirs. Sometimes the best way to annoy people was to claim innocence. “Pleasure to meet you all officially.” She tipped her head in greeting, offering a sickly sweet smile. “I do not believe I have had the opportunity to meet any of you as of yet. I look forward to tonight where we can dine and laugh together in celebration of our future endeavours.” Her voice was fitting for the slightly ethereally off-putting air that Marmoor permeated. It wasn’t who she was. This was Marmoor she was representing and she would do so expertly or face the repercussions upon her return home. With no other siblings, as per tradition, she was the new face of her family line. If she made one mistake, her entire career as head of house would be tainted for the remainder of her life. |
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Neutral
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The applause slowly died down, and the stage emptied as the heirs filed back toward the corridors leading to their quarters. Kyyre lingered for a moment, his eyes catching on Leon’s tall figure. The desert heir’s broad shoulders moved with an effortless confidence, the sway of his tail almost hypnotic. Kyyre’s wide eyes followed him, his face flushing faintly as the bold, fanged grin Leon had worn on stage replayed in his mind. There was something undeniably magnetic about the man—raw, untamed energy barely concealed by the stiff academy uniform. Realizing he was staring, Kyyre quickly looked away, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. He could feel Astrid’s steady presence beside him, grounding him, but the warmth in his cheeks refused to fade. “You’re stronger than you think,” Astrid said, his voice low and steady. Kyyre blinked up at him, startled by the rare words of encouragement. He nodded but said nothing, the flush in his cheeks deepening. Behind them, the group moved together at a measured pace, their footsteps echoing faintly in the high-arched corridor. The late morning light filtered through the trellises above, dappling the stone with intricate shadows of ivy. As they entered the open courtyard, the air was tense, anticipation and wariness mingling among the heirs. Leon’s presence was hard to ignore, his figure standing out even among the gathered royalty. His tail flicked in time with his steps, and his easy confidence contrasted sharply with the more reserved demeanors of some others. Kyyre kept his gaze averted, trying to understand why he was blushing. Stupid, captivating cute guys. Andromeda’s movement ahead of them drew attention as she turned back toward the group, her figure framed by the sunlight filtering through the arches. She paused, her expression calculated as her gaze swept over the gathered heirs. Her words carried a sense of formality befitting her station. Kyyre glanced at Astrid for reassurance, finding his composure unshaken. Astrid’s quiet strength felt like an anchor in the turbulent sea of egos and rivalries surrounding them. The younger heir took a steadying breath, willing his nerves to settle as the group continued toward their quarters. The air grew heavier with unspoken tension as they reached the grand doors to the residential wing. The ornate carvings in the wood seemed almost alive, a reminder of the weight of history and tradition each of them carried. For Kyyre, it was also a reminder of the looming trials—of what he needed to survive. Astrid’s footsteps slowed as Andromeda’s words hung in the air behind them, her tone dripping with mockery thinly veiled as politeness. His jaw tightened, his muscles coiling with a familiar tension as he replayed her voice in his mind. Dine and laugh together? The audacity of her gall made his teeth clench. His arms crossed over his chest as he turned slightly, his eyes narrowing with a sharpness that could cut glass. A cold fury simmered just beneath the surface, visible in the faint twitch of his fingers at his sides. He knew what she was doing—he’d seen it before, that sugary sweet façade masking the venom beneath. She was taunting them, toying with them like a predator circling its prey. It wasn’t her words that angered him most, but her audacity to act as though the blood she’d spilled, the lives she’d ruined, didn’t matter. His family’s champion—his brother in arms—had fallen because of her, and now she had the nerve to smile as though they were all equals. “Ridiculous,” Astrid muttered under his breath, the word escaping him before he could stop it. His glare burned into her form, every fiber of his being wanting to confront her then and there. But this wasn’t the time. Not yet. Instead, he turned back toward the towering doors, the weight of his anger settling into something cold and deliberate. His fingers flexed at his sides, a reminder to himself to stay controlled. The day would come when he could settle things with Andromeda, but it would be on his terms—where the entire world could witness her fall. As they stepped into the residential wing, Kyyre’s soft voice brought him back to the present. “Astrid? Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” Astrid replied flatly, his tone leaving no room for further discussion. His expression softened just slightly as he glanced at Kyyre. "You should get ready for the feast." Astrid iced over his palm, forming a small clip in Kyyre's hair, which smoothed and pinned back the wild hair. "You're a mess, snowflake." Kyyre hesitated, then nodded, sensing that whatever storm was brewing inside Astrid wasn’t meant for him. Astrid let his gaze drift toward the ornate hallways ahead, his mind already sharpening itself for the trials to come. For the way her face would look when he spat on her bloodied corpse. |
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Darkseeker
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Leon was blissfully unaware of the stares he was collecting from their small group, there were a handful who were unbothered by his feral presence. Particularly, Andromeda and Astrid as they were locked in their own tango of danger. He wanted to talk to her, to ask her about her past tournaments. She would make a wonderful ally, the only issue would be convincing her to half the winnings. Now that would be the masterplan. He could win this alone, but that would cause a bigger rift between Marmoor and Nibrook. Something Leon was eager to avoid, the brains and brawn of the two nations combined would be a difficult foe to face in further skirmishes. At her words, he stood still, content with absorbing her niceties. He had seen her in the previous bouts, she was anything but kind when it came down to the nitty gritty. The giddy smile that had decorated her face as the Ice champion fell to his knees in a stupor before her when she was freshly nineteen was burned into his mind’s eye. He hadn’t seen anything so honest in his entire life, a being living exactly as their instincts compelled them. That was a heavily desired trait amongst his people. He offered a mumbled standard reply before they were all carted off towards their rooms, a large round room with eight large wooden doors encapsulating the space. The wood was engraved with wondrous visions of their homelands. Leon’s boasted wild beasts prepared to battle, the presence of the sun and it’s deity-like importance. Leon had waited his entire life to enter this area, to bring pride to his people and more importantly the resources. As his excitement began to rise, the ruddy brown tail began to sweep up dust behind him. His eyes narrowed under the rise of his smile, distorting the red ink that was etched under his bright eyes. Andromeda had paused in her advance once more and gifted the party of heirs and champions with a short curtsy before vanishing into her quarters. It was decorated in the familiar misty grey fabric, the tinies hints of deep pine greens. Nothing she liked was in here. The clothing, the furniture. It was all her father’s preference. Now that she was alone, her poised shoulders dropped from their perfected posture and a long sigh pulled from her lips. There was still hours left before the ball, but the foggy room to the right indicated her maid had already drawn the milky bath with lavender. The perfect thing she needed, Emelia always knew what she wanted. A soft smile appeared on her lips and she slipped into the bathroom to enjoy the freshly drawn bath. – The hour had arrived where they had to play nice with each other before the slaughter began. The courtyard has been draped in endless twinkling lights, huge tables piled with food and silverware worthy of stealing adorned the sides of the space. As the academy’s most prestigious event, there was no expense spared. There in the dimly lit courtyard come dancefloor, people milled around. The early birds that wanted to get the proverbial worm of the heir’s entrance. – Leon had donned something far more comfortable, his back was concealed with a shaggy fur cape, linked together over his collar bones with a golden chain. The fur was mottled, a mixture of spotted feline and haggard wolf, stopping at the middle of his back with a point. Brown leather training pants were fixed to his muscular legs, strapped with various belts, clearly prepared for anything to happen that night. He was not one to conform to the expected elegance of the night, no he would proudly display his heritage even if it made the noble’s squirm. The warm bronze of his skin was slashed with raised lighter scars, fractures across perfectly sculpted muscles that he had honed for years prior to attending the school. Nibrook was a place of kill or be killed, it warranted a certain athleticism. He descended from the stage with that familiar fanged grin slapped across his face, one hand settled on his hip where a hunting dagger sat comfortably. White and red paint was striped across his skin in harsh, imperfect lines. Down the centre of his nose was a red slash that continued over his lips and chin before splattering onto his chest. Andromeda’s entrance was far more demure. The dress that had been assigned to her was different from the last two, that being said they were still a gossamer white with sleek silk. It always was. Floor length as per the requirements of the event, as were the accompanying heels. Gods, she couldn’t wait until tomorrow. When all this silly imagery of purity could be set aside for functional clothing options. As she approached the courtyard once more, Andromeda took a moment to pull the large white fox fur boa around herself. Letting it sit on her arms as she turned to descend the steps down towards the mosaic stones. The moonlight mixed with the soft orange glow from the ambient lighting of the courtyard dappled the area. Creating an abstractly brilliant view from afar, Andromeda admired it as she took her first step down. Tonight would be ideal for weaselling her way into the minds of the other competitors. Alcohol often made people blind to her psychic advancements whilst she toyed in conversation with them. |
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While preparing in his quarters, Kyyre had changed his suit out for a white outfit - white undershirt with a white vest, white pants, and white heeled boots, and his single blood red ring around his left index finger that he fiddled with, trailing behind Astrid with a snake much like himself, albino, with sleek white-pink scales. This serpent's name was Asteria, a thin six-foot female that wrapped herself around his neck and arms. A gift from his brother, and a comforting presence, which he knew he'd need, being around so many people again. Astrid had also changed, now donned with a very simple black long-sleeve turtleneck underneath an ankle-length coat made of arctic wolf fur, black pants, and black shoes. His stride was confident, silent, and deadly, much unlike Kyyre, who resisted the urge to cling to his arm as they stepped into the courtyard. Astrid remained near the entrance, surveying the surroundings, but Kyyre made a beeline for the food, picking up something that looked faintly like chicken and busying himself with looking down at the table, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as he shredded the chicken with his fingers, offering pieces to Asteria. The courtyard was alive with the murmur of voices and clinking glasses, but to Kyyre, it felt like a distant hum, a soundscape behind his ever-present unease. He chewed slowly, his gaze flicking up only occasionally, afraid that someone might notice the flush creeping back into his cheeks from earlier. He kept his distance, hidden within the solace of the food and the shadows that danced around the courtyard. Astrid's silent observation didn't go unnoticed by Kyyre, but he was grateful for the space. There was something in the air tonight that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end—a tension thicker than the wine-sweetened air. He could feel it even before he saw the flicker of Andromeda's pristine form descending the stairs, her white fox fur boa trailing behind her like a banner of wealth and power. Kyyre's eyes darted to her briefly, but he quickly looked away, focusing back on the remnants of his food. He didn't want to be caught looking. He didn't want to engage with anyone, not now. Not with the looming weight of the upcoming trials hanging over their heads like an executioner's axe. As Andromeda made her entrance, her presence seemed to draw the attention of others, and Kyyre could feel the sharpness of her gaze even from where he stood. There was a quiet power in her every move, a confidence that reminded him of something more dangerous than the tournaments they were about to face. He shuddered slightly and looked down, eyes fixed on Asteria, who had begun winding herself tighter around his wrist. The festivities continued, but to Kyyre, they felt like a distant memory, a fading echo of something far more uncomfortable. He couldn't shake the feeling that everyone around him was playing a game, one that was far beyond his comprehension. He wasn't sure where he fit in that puzzle.
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Winter Month: 3 
Day 
