[center][color=DAA520][h2][b]E L I A S  K O K I N O S[/b][/h2][/color][/center]
[center][sup][i]P R I N C E  o f  P Ó L E M O S[/i][/sup][/center]
[center][hider=Attire]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/7e/ce/b6/7eceb6ed8a9c2d949c00836c967f08ea.jpg[/img]

[color=lightgray][i]The red is the color of his cape, the lion the shape of the gold fastener; Dafni’s attire has his laurel crown[/i][/color]
[/hider]
[hider=FC]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cc/f0/a2/ccf0a2b5351edbc78343b0e761a603ca.jpg[/img]

[color=lightgray][i]FC: Modified Gonçalo Teixeira
Slight change: his hair is actually almost shoulder-length[/i][/color][/hider][/center]
[center][sup][i]w i t h  a p p e a r a n c e  b y  [color=DDA0DD]D A F N I  K O K I N O S[/color] , [sub]P R I N C E S S  o f  P Ó L  E M O S[/sub][/i][/sup][/center]
[center][hider=Attire]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f8/da/8b/f8da8b458849a8c983fe9fdd068c43d8.jpg[/img]

[color=lightgray][i]She has elected to ignore tradition for fashion, which is acceptable; Elias is just being extra and stating his heritage with more pride than he probably should. Both are wearing the displayed laurel crown (Elias’ is not pictured but it looks exactly the same)[/i][/color]
[/hider]
[hider=FC]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/2d/66/44/2d66440fc8a298e0d5519d3d8b89fd6f.jpg[/img]

[color=lightgray][i]FC: Bianca Santos[/i][/color][/hider][/center]

[INDENT]Elias was entirely grateful his elder brother wouldn’t be present. Parties of any kind with Stefanos there had the tendency to get bloody or would leave the middle child incredibly tense and unable to enjoy himself as he waited for an attack that might never come. He was, however, incredibly grateful his younger sister was going to be there. Dafni got along well with Lea, and would get along well with others, too. Plus, her status as a multiple medalist (silver and gold) from the last three consecutive Olympics would likely fetch her plenty more attention.

[i]Damn overachiever,[/i] Elias thought as he watched his sister walk into the common area of their shared suite. Unlike him, she was dressed modernly in a two-piece gown of a dark violet, one she’d call by a name he would gladly forget within two seconds of her telling him. He watched as she adjusted silver sandals despite her wrists jingling worse than bells, raising his brows as she attempted to slip a knife in the laces.

“[i]Pretty sure they won’t be allowing weapons in there, Daf,[/i]” he said in Pólemesian.

She frowned but pulled the fancy blade from her shoe and set it down on the table. “[i]You don’t think they’ll notice the knife on my thigh, do you?[/i]

He gave her a look. “[i]Trust your combat skills, Olympian.[/i]”

“[i]Aye aye, captain,[/i]” she teased with a mock salute, removing the knife tied to her leg and letting her skirt flutter to the ground again.

“[i]Hey, that is commander supreme to you, not captain.[/i]” Elias warned lightly, wagging his finger at her. “[i]And I do not take my rank lightly.[/i]”

“[i]Yes, anyone can tell you’ve more than earned your status, Mister ‘I-Won’t-Wear-A-Suit.’[/i]” She shook her head. “[i]You’re about to stand out terribly.[/i]”

Elias sighed, looking at their reflection in the mirror. Her modern dress, with her dark hair in complex-looking braids on her head and stuck with pearl pins and framed by her gold laurel crown, and his traditional chiton and red cape with gold lion-head fasteners and his own gold laurel crown atop his shoulder-length hair, couldn’t have been more different. His hulking frame and her lithe athletic build were both on display in their revealing attire, and they knew it.

“[i]My little sister,[/i]” Elias said, arm wrapping around her waist supportively. “[i]All grown up. When did she become this beautiful young woman?[/i]”

Dafni smiled, and patted her brother’s arm. “[i]There, there, brother.[/i]” She snuck out her phone and opened up the camera. “[i]Picture time?[/i]”

After taking more pictures than they likely needed to (some serious, some goofy-faced selfies, and there was definitely one Charlie’s Angels-style photo taken by one of their attendants), Elias and Dafni left their guest chambers and made their way to the ballroom.

Immediately Dafni was excitedly taking Princess Lea’s hands and squealing with her in excitement. The two exchanged hugs and took selfies on each other’s phones, at one point dragging Elias in with them, the gold sparkles on Dafni’s cheeks glinting with the flash, and after Elias bowed and offered a traditional Pólemesian hand wave greeting—wrist rolling so the palm faced up as the hand was brought out towards the recipient—as well as the necessary congratulations, he managed to drag his sister away.

Dafni was quick to snag herself a glass of champagne while Elias took a glass of red wine, though it was immediately rejected. [i]Not strong enough.[/i]

A familiar voice caught his attention, and he looked across the room to find exactly who he expected. Memories of sunrises and sunsets, of chariots and swimming, and of some of the last days of happiness he could remember, were contained in that long blond hair and infectious grin. Despite how much it hurt, that month of summer had been too good to forget. But his friend and once-lover ([i]it was but a fling, Elias, remember that[/i]) seemed occupied with…[i]wait, that’s Erik, from the party that one time. Maybe I should say hello anyway…no, bad idea, they’re having a conversation on their own. Let them talk. You can find them later.[/i]

He continued to look around, and at some point raised his brows. There was someone in attendance…in a suit of plate armor. [i]Is that…Domitia Viriatus of Lusitania? If so, that in the corner must be Liviana, the…aunt. Confusing family.[/i]

He left Dafni to her own business, knowing she’d find a way to occupy herself and would be checking in at various points through the evening, but decided to approach the refreshments table to pick up some kind of pastry—he didn’t care until he tasted chocolate—in order to more reasonably strike up a conversation with Domitia.

Elias stood to their left, facing the crowd. “So the stories are true,” he said plainly, then looked their way. “The armor is a bit of a giveaway, I suppose. A well-deserved accomplishment, even if others will not recognize it.” He finished his pastry, licking his fingers before looking at them again. “Do you still spar?” he asked.

[INDENT][sub][i]interacting with [@Amethyst][/i][/sub][/INDENT][/INDENT]