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[IC] 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 Page 100

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Tae
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Tae

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Time: Evening
Location: Banquet Hall
Interactions: @Rodiak Zarai & Matthias, @CitrusArms Stratya
Attire: Look Leo! Green! Also hair




Before Stratya could fully settle in beside her, Torvi nodded toward the dark-furred beast resting like a shadow at her feet. “This is Fenrys,” she said simply, with a flicker of pride in her voice. “He is a bit more polite than he looks. So long as you are.”

Fenrys lifted his head slightly, golden eyes locking on Stratya with quiet intelligence. His tail flicked once in what might have been approval as he briefly sniffed her hand, before he settled back down with a low, huffing sigh.

When Stratya shared the story of her fox, Torvi listened with visible interest. She didn’t interrupt once, her expression softening at the image of a lone kit curling behind a child for warmth. Her hand idly stroked behind Fenrys’ ears as the tale unfolded.

“A creature choosing you,” she murmured once Stratya had finished, “says more than most people’s oaths ever could.” She offered the knight a small, approving smile. “Sounds like the little one had good instincts. Much like Fenrys.”

Then came the arrival of a tall, well-built man with the kind of plain, crisp fashion that almost made him more appealing by contrast. Two cakes in hand, he looked like a man with excellent priorities. Torvi raised her brow as Zarai mistakenly waved him over, only for him to take his assigned seat near them instead.

“Mmm,” Torvi purred, golden gaze flicking toward the newcomer. “A pity. I was starting to hope the staff had gotten handsomer.” Her voice dipped into playful warmth. “But I suppose if you come bearing sweets, we can forgive the lack of an apron.”

Her teasing faded into a moment of sharpened focus as, one by one, notable faces began to vanish from the hall. Duchess Victoria, storming out in a haze of ruined silk and red-faced fury. Thea and Ariella, with that shared storm in their steps. Another intriguing individual, not far behind them, eyes too sharp. Olivia and Kazumin, quiet but decisive. There was something in Olivia's posture that caught Torvi's eye and her gaze lingered for a moment. Then Lady Violet left, broken hearted and soon followed by her mother. Alexander and Lorenzo, chaos and wine incarnate. Then Charlotte, Count Fritz, Cassius.

And finally, Mina.

Dragging Roman.

That gave Torvi pause.

Her golden gaze lingered on them just a second longer than the others. Her lips pursed thoughtfully before she leaned back in her seat and swirled her wine with calculated ease. Even Zarai had gotten up, but she seemed to be looking for something and not looking to leave the room. She was upset with Lorenzo, however.

“So many running,” she said, her tone casual. “A banquet should not feel like a battlefield. And yet
” She let the words trail off, eyes flicking back to her company.

She took another sip and turned to Stratya and the new man with a languid smile. “Seems we’re the ones with the sense to stay seated and let the games play out.” Her voice lowered into something amused, velvety. “Or perhaps we’re just the most dangerous ones in the room.”

She set down her glass, looking between them both. “I do hope you’re both the sort who enjoy a little danger.”

She then shifted her attention to the man--Sir Matthias, if she remembered the name from the rearranged seating. Her eyes softened just a touch.

“Sir Matthias, is it not?” she asked, tilting her head. “You arrived late, but with cake. An excellent strategy. I think that is called winning hearts through stomachs.” She arched a brow, clearly not being serious about the cakes, her tone teasing as she added, “What’s your secret, hmm? Or are you here simply to charm us with sugar and silence?”
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by samreaper
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samreaper Laughing Imp

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Kazumin Nagasa




Time: Evening-late dusk
Location: Castle Balcony
Interactions: @potter Lady Olivia/Percy,
Mentions: @princess Calbert/ Edin, Victoria, Charlotte @Reusablesword Roman, @Tpartywithzombi Violet, Ariella.



This night was meant to be festive and fun, filled with merry chatting and sharing of bread, where new bonds were forged in between exchanges. Instead, nothing but heated arguments and cruel heartache mockery given a royal audience for all to see, and it left Kazu feeling tense and ill, his body annoyingly sensitive to the nauseating thick air of pungent negativity and stress.

Kazu hated the way it felt walking through this hall, even when surrounded by countless flashy splendors and rare delicacies only ever envisioned in dreams. But, all he could sense was the lack of warmth or any actual joy, with dishes piled like mountains and booze to drink well away into the night until shitfaced wasted if they so chose to.

Yet, what gripped at the cowlicked blonde most was a cold dread sitting at the pit of his stomach, a small gurgle of warning from his gut as he pictured Olivia waiting just behind them as he came to a stop upon reaching the door knobs, where he took a moment to take a deep breath trying to settle his nervous trembling body for even from here, could sense that something was wrong; how she kept shifting, agitated in her seat, all the while he tried to keep himself distracted with the halls going on and food, but it was too overwhelming to not tell his closest friend was struggling.

Fear nearly overtook him as he gripped the knobs; a part of him telling of danger, to run, but Olivia’s whispered plea tickled his ears with glimpses of how she held him when he was at his lowest, when he had no one else he could go to and


“ This..this is what you wanted
ever since she came back, and now she needs you..” Kazu whispered to his trembling heart, still reeling from the unpleasant table exchanges, thankful for Charlotte’s hug, a much-needed comfort. Though something told him they would pale in comparison to what awaited him out on the balcony.

Like jumping from the frying pan and straight into the fire, the dark thought meant to scare, instead amused the candy-dressed farmhand as that’s what he seemed to do, whether intentional or not, this farmhand hardly ever paid much care to his own agency.
And he had no intention of changing that, not when the woman he cared most struggled to hold herself together.

A grounding inhale to settle himself, and with a gentle turning click, opened the door, where he nervously popped his head in first.” Ah, apologies for the delay, Lady Olivia.” A greeting raising of the hat with an awkward little chuckle as he hesitantly pushed his way through and closed the door behind with two cautious steps forward, his hands folding behind his back with the cane gingerly held and rolled between gloves fingers.

He gave a respectful light bow to the yellow-sun dressed Olivia’s turned back, and in that brief instance caught the moonlight dancing off her braided fiery red hair in a gentle, elegant glow compared to Percy’s sun glittering blonde. Her dress appeared to give off a dazzling illuminance beneath its lunar glow that left Kazu staring transfixed by the breathtaking scenery. Whether as Percy or Olivia, it didn’t matter in his eyes.

A momentary wish that he could be standing at her side, sharing it with her. Gone on a sad breeze, drifting and fading, short and fleeting.

Then she turned, the air almost seeming to shimmer as she did so, which filled Kazu with a strong sense of unease as he lifted his gaze to her face, scared of what he might see, then he peered into her eyes and his breath hitched in shock, unsure what he was seeing, the faint shimmers in the air, her eyes looked off, filled with sadness and pain and
something he struggled to described but it unnerved and frightened him.

Soon Olivia spoke, the words started tumbling and spilling out one after the other with no sign of stopping. Not that Kazu would dare interrupt, not when he was finally getting what he wanted..answers
to understand why.

And so, taking a deep breath to prepare himself and as an excuse to hold his tongue as he stood at attention. Hands gripping the cane with light squeezing grips; something to hold steady as he listened fervently to Olivia’s words, her posture, her mannerism, all of it.

Right now, at this time, he was there only for her, the feast, the world behind him no longer conscious to him. Here, they were alone, from prying eyes, the risks of ruining her cover no longer an issue, as much as he wanted to hug her then and even now
he longed to tell her it would be ok.

”From the time I was born, I could always feel this
 This urge, this dark magic calling to me.” Her voice was hushed, as she looked away. She couldn’t bear to read his expression. ”As a kid, I never knew what it was–there was this lingering feeling that something, something was missing. This hunger, unsatisfied by food, was always there. My parents started showing me magic when I was a little kid. I didn’t really understand it. It was something cool that could happen–summoning fire above your palm, shooting ice out of your hands, talking to animals, affecting emotions, changing your hair color; all sorts of things. I wasn't allowed to talk about it to others, even you. My parents told me they’d know if I did, so I never could.” Olivia took a deep breath and then continued.

Yet, as Olivia spoke, her every word seeped in emotions long pent up, felt like another wound of worry to his flesh. Hearing her tell of dark magic, how it had always been there, tempting her, and a never-ending hunger that had him picture how she had been eating so aggressively.* You always ate like you were never given a proper meal. But
but.. It's wrong.*

His chest panged with a slight shake of the head, almost in disbelief, not wanting to accept all this dark magic nonsense; chocolate brown eyes misted up at the thought of this
this wicked force having been tempting and luring this poor girl to warp and use her gift to do harm? * No..not Percy..not the fiery firefly who never hesitated to jump in to stop bullies
who would rather feed someone needier over herself?* A small gasp left his lips, finding the air growing heavier and harder to breathe, like an unseen pressure within the shimmer, warning of something worse kept hazy from his visions.

"It was just the norm, till my dad got fired from the castle–he was a mess, a mixture of fury, disgust, desperation, and insanity. He was rambling a bunch and shielded whatever it was from me. My mom was grief stricken that he was fired because that was our income. Then, as you know, I disappeared from life. We tried and tried and tried to make money otherwise and it just wasn't happenin. The magic usage in our house increased by tenfold. Our bakery was struggling cause we didn’t have ingredients to make anything out of. The paranoia from the magic was suffocating. My mom and dad began using dark magic and forced me to start it too. Then, it was like the lightbulb went on–my hunger was becoming rapidly satisfied and unsatisfied. I finally realized why I was so, so, hungry all the time, even after eating all the food out of the fridge.

As she carried on after catching her breath, a brief respite, little as it was. As she began detailing her past in full, mentions of her parents elicited a gradual stiffening of his body, and cold fury that had long been buried away began to bubble in his veins. He had gone to great lengths not to think of those two. Kazu had plenty of reason to detest them for denying letting him visit and see Percy, but had no idea just how awful and cruel they truly had been.

A slow, barely contained huffing inhale and tightening squeeze of the cane, on the surface his posture was a strained, icy, cool calmness, though beneath his blood boiled in loathing disgust that they...any parent could push their child down such dark paths because of their failures? To deny her the freedom to enjoy her magical gift?

Kazu battled to keep himself rooted to the spot through harshly gritted teeth while forcing his gaze to stay on her, refusing to look away for even a second.

”And so, you know, the bakery burned down–I was trying to sneak some bread, was starvin, losin weight and not bein able to do nothin about it. I was bein all sneaky and shit, till Asher’s crew came and spooked me. A fight broke out and I used fire magic, something I seem to have an affinity for using
” Liv gulped and wiped her teary eyes. A laugh escaped her slightly insane and sarcastic. ”...And I accidentally burned down our bakery, and ended up with no food, and now enemies on the street. I ran, ran like the wind, to get the hell away, but when I came home all sooty and ashy, even with washing out in the river, my parents punished me–by forcing me to use more dark magic. I became obsessed with it over time. Using it once was too much, ten times was never enough.”

A battle he nearly crumbled upon being reminded of that bakery incident, the crackling building ever fresh in his nightmares made all the more raw when seeing Olivia’s tear-filled eyes, a bitter laugh, hollow and empty.* An accident
it..it was only an accident..and..and I knew it, knew you were alive.* Tilting his head slightly with a faint relieved sigh only to wince with a hard squeeze of the cane with small cracks from the building rage being pooled there, fighting to keep his mind from thinking all the awful things she had to endure out on the streets..and her punishing parents. A godsend, they had been sent to their graves, vile people as they were.

Olivia turned to Kazumin now, and for a moment, her pupils briefly turned black. ”Do you know,” her voice came out in a low hiss. ”How hard is it to sit in that room, listenin to that pig of a king belittle and criticize people? The dumbass has had a silver spoon up his arse entire life. These despicable royals sit there, with all this food that’ll get tossed and never given to the poor, the poor who suffer all the time and starve? The fuckin’ poor who eat acorns and dig through the trash–the person I was before meeting Charlotte?” Black tendrils began visibly wrapping around her. ”They sit on their high fuckin’ horses, mocking and fighting each other over fuck knows what. Those Danroses.. They expect us to kiss their asses because they were born with a silver spoon up their asses. And Calbert? He sits there actin like he never did nothin to us this entire fuckin’ feast. Fuckin’ asshole.”

The chilly hiss in her voice grabbed his attention once more, and what he saw turned his boiling veins cold with dread as black tendrils began forming, or perhaps had been ther,e and
then he recalled her mentioning the various gifts and how she invaded Calbert’s manor, her aggressive appetite
was this it? This
dark force? This..this felt wrong, this was not the magic he had glimpsed in peeks, even looking at her alone was enough to sense something had been different about her. Before it was her parents, now it was that damn pig king and Count smug fuck causing her so much turmoil. He wanted to tell her what he thought of them, hated them carrying on with their shameless showboating and braggery; laughing in delight at his own people’s pain like it was fun entertainment while shoveling slop down his gullet, while people starved and fought for the mere chance at scraps and a place just to survive to the next day.

The sight of the growing dark tendrils, however, held him in place, parts of him wanting to run from this terrifying display though Kazu refused to let any of it show, his eyes shifting to hide the fear, but more to hide the scared thrill buzzing along his skin like eletricity that he could not explain.

She clenched her fists and visibly began trembling. ”He ruined my family’s fuckin’ lives, that bastard of a king. Why? I have no idea, but I’m going to fuckin find out. And you know somethin, too? Asteroth. He fuckin’ wouldn’t let me see you after my parents died. Did you know that? Did you know I was shooed away by him with a broom like I was some fuckin’ stray cat? Yeah, Kaz–that arsehole kept our friendship apart,” Olivia dug her nails into her hands, almost hard enough to draw blood.

His widening eyes snapped to the trembling woman trying to grasp at what she had said about Asteroth, having his mind wheeling.” W-what?” He uttered the single word on a shaky breath, face expressing confuddled disbelief, the king ruining her life was upsetting enough already, and he wanted to help her with that, but to hear that even Asteroth had been keeping them apart? The man he thought he could trust..that cared about his safety?* T-that
gruff bearded fucker! After I saved his life and
and he..*dares*?!* He thought of the man darkly, cane cracking beneath his barely subdued fury at this betrayal, tears of rage and hurt spilled down his cheek.

”Time and time again, life has told me I’m not wanted here, three, nowhere. Always shooed away, always denied the pleasures of life. Sleeping in a tree, or in a barn with my horse who got more food than me, always. The only good thing goin for me is this stupid facade I can barely hold down. Actin all prissy and noble, with manners. Pretending to be someone I’m not and you know what? People already fuckin know who I am–some masked dick at the ball. Who the fuck was he, I don’t fuckin know. I bet Calbert does know too. Who fuckin cares when there’s people starvin, getting murdered the slums, beaten up cause they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Getting kicked outta places, unable to make a livin and barely livin, and hopin they aren’t killed in their sleep. Y’know how many times I had to evade Asher’s gang, only to come home and listenin’ to my parents yellin’ and fighting using magic and drugs and alcohol to get by? There is no hope in this world. Everywhere fuckin’ sucks.” The black tendrils weaved around her like ribbons, curling this way and that. Fortunately, it was only visible to those two.

Every word that continued to spill from her lips felt like a dagger at his heart; unable to help but envision Percy at the locations, scared, hungry, and fighting, just her and her horse. Turned away and denied help by Asteroth as well, a man he thought cared about the plight of those in desperate need, instead left her to fend against the slums and gangs. Listening to the woman he cared about most, who never once left his mind since the day he first heard that little stomach rumble?

Now, standing here talking about no hope, that life was nothing more than survival for her, with a world that hated her? It broke and infuriated his heart, having to see the woman he loved breaking apart right before his eyes, while her wondrous gift, meant to be shared, was hated or coveted by those only seeking to use her.

And there he was, stuck glued to the spot, unable to think of how to help her, what could he do against these black tendrils? Fear and hesitation kept him back; countless thoughts and concerns plagued him with ideas, but having so much dumped on him all at once made it difficult to grasp what he needed to do.

”It's only a matter of time till I’m kicked out of here too. I should just back to the fuckin slums and deal with life on my own before I fuck this up too. Only a matter of time till the bad luck train comes back. You should save yourself and stay the fuck away from me. All of you. I’m going to jinx your fuckin lives at some point. Kaz, you should stay away.”

The puppet’s silent battle ends


As he tried to wrestle through his thoughts, Olivia's finishing statement had cut through all the confusion, rage, and doubts, leaving Kazu taken aback as if he had just been stabbed in the chest.” I- H-how
” For the first time since entering the balcony, Kazu let his body move, sagging forward slightly with his right lightly clenched hand extended forward shakily as he huffed through strained teeth.” After all that
.you unload all this then..then expect me to just leave?!” He intended to speak calmly, but it came out harsher than he intended.” When..when yer the one who asked me here!” Throwing up his arms in confused sputtering exasperation

Olivia slowly, and finally, looked up at him, her eyes searching for a trace of him denying her desperation and pleas. Tears welled up in her eyes and began sliding down her cheeks. As soon as they rolled off her face, they disintegrated into black wisps. Her pupils kept switching from their normal green to flecks of black. She grabbed her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

Multiple conflicting emotions had been whirling in his brown eyes with his mind split on what he wanted to say, having been put through such nigh novel’s worth of history and facts, but when his eyes met hers, tear-filled green eyes flickering with specks of black and in that single glance he saw the fire, a tiny firefly spark of a flame being choked by these wicked tendrils.

Whatever animosity and rage he felt melted away in that instance and with it knew what he needed to do; and it terrified him..not of what he planned to do but what may follow, yet after all that he had experienced up to now with Calbert, the tree and the king
no more. He refused to keep silent anymore.

And took a step forward with a defiant swipe of his right arm.” And go where? Huh? Back to Asteroth? Considering what ya just told me, hardly much of a safe place is it? Certainly not after my little incident, or have ya forgotten that already?” A reluctant wave of his gloved hands, a widening forced grin on his face, the stained cheeks and eyes wide with a slight maniacal twitch at the corner.” Shall I run to Charlotte and bring my troubles onto them too? Or should I run back home to find my family possibly dead? If I even make it that far
” His body shuddered with a hitched breath and quickly shook the horrid possibility away.” You think you’re the only one jinxed?” Nearly panting his words now as he took another step forward, pushing through the ominous shimmering around her.

A sharp intake through the nose.” Yer not the only one who has been treated as an outcast, to be abandoned
.betrayed.” His voice faltered and cracked as he stood trembling before Olivia, but he gulped in fresh air and pushed on.” I had nothing but my step-family, as anywhere else, no matter how hard I tried, I felt unwanted, that I didn’t fit in
to be looked down on with disdain and disgust just for being some peasant farmhand? To be laughed at and mocked by even my own people? Do..do you have any idea what it's like being an outcast among the outcasts? A joke, a clown, that’s all people see me as. Look at how I’m dressed for Pete’s sake?!” Tugging at his shirt on a heated pant upon pointing out his obnoxious multi-colored suit.

Another step taken forward.” Time and time again, I’m told what and how I’m told to live, that I need to be the meager nobody that keeps his head down and mouth shut like everyone else while those snobby, egotistical prudes get to sit on their high horses, scarfing down slop like undeserved gods.” Shaking head, hands trembling.” All cause they lucked into their positions like that fat pig fucker king. You think you’re the only one repulsed by that blob thing? I should know cause I met to that blob sicko, oh yeah that’s right. We had a nice little chat not too long ago..how does that make ya feel since we’re telling hard secrets now, huh?!”

Kazu bit his lip, fighting through the guilt of talking like this, but it was clear mere words would not be enough; something more drastic was needed from the sign of spreading, and for now had to keep her attention on him as his face became heatedly flushed.” And guess what? I can’t even stomach milk now cause of him
why does that fat fuck stink of milk? I couldn’t tell ya but doubt it's anything pleasant..and I’m a farmer, Olivia! How da fuck am I gonna farm if I can’t handle milk? That screams of some real bad vibes, that’s for certain!” His tone a little spastic as he was wheeling and cringing, the interaction all to fresh in his mind.

A step forward, standing in front of her now.

“ And don’t even get me started on Calby
oh the things I have to say about him..I could rant all day what a twatwaffle prick he is. What he has done to you
to Charlotte and Lorenzo
him and that asshat Marek
oh you can believe I want to figure this nonsense with the king, with Calbert and this whole game they’ve been playing and using the damn kingdom as their playground
treating the lives of not just the peasant..but their own kind..hell
their own family for fuck’s sake!?”

The cowlicked blonde huffed incredulously, thinking of how that duchess openly mocked and belittled her daughter or niece, how Roman casually mocked Violet after breaking her heart, that alone was already maddeningly frustrating, but to do so openly in front of court with that dopey smile plastered on his face while Calbert
Calbert, who should have comforted his daughter, instead chose to protect the family image.

A man who touts his love, but it was merely a guise for control. That’s all it seemed to be about, control. The cruel thought sat in his head as he peered back at the woman gripping her head, wrestling with something.

“ You asked me how hard it was to sit in that room? Torture..hellish torture. Almost lost my appetite over it
 I hated witnessing and hearing the bickering, seeing that king sit up there, gobbling dish after dish while that cuntess bitch openly insults that poor girl to the point of retaliating or that blacksmith asshat
I don’t care what reason he has, none justifies an open mockery of heartbreak with a damn smile?” He gulped, nearly crushing the cane beneath his vice grip, envisioning Violet’s pain-filled face and peering at Olivia and finding himself picturing the face she would express, and turning away from the horrid imagery, the inkling of ever saying anything to let her cry
he would rather jump off this balcony before ever thinking of betraying any friend, let alone Percy, even when she left him in the dark..left him to think her dead.

And yet, somehow, here she stood and was finally opening up to him, only to push him away? After being kept apart..again
and again?” And if you think these dark theatrics with the dark tendrils or some jinx is going to make this farmboy running with his tail between his legs, then ya forgettin who ya talkin to!” A challenging laugh at the ominous energy with a squaring of his chest.” You know what I have to say this bullshit dark magic clinging to ya? Bitch please, think yer scary? I had Calbert’s gun to my face, oblivious and all, and you know what I did? I laughed in his fucking face!” Kazu let out a quick merry laugh, mimicking that instance.

“ If only you saw the look on that prick’s smug face as he held that gun at me in his own dining hall, I expected to die then..I should have
” The fierce, angry defiance in his face softened, his welling-up eyes observing the despairing woman, who kept trying to fight so hard to carry it all.

A gulping inhale, steeling himself, his heart pounding frantically as the soft thunk of cane dropping, the faint rustling of gloves being pulled off, then gingerly reached his hands up until she felt the unexpected warmth of his rough, callused hands.” But then you saved me
even when I never asked or expected it” Flashes of himself being drugged out of the Damien state, the carnage she had left in their wake, how it thrilled him, making their daring escape.

“ And again, when my garden got attacked
When I thought it hopeless..that the only things I ever had could be taken from me
” Tears flowed freely down his face as he gazed adoringly at her face, gently trying to resist his touch.” You were there without hesitation
 and you didn’t judge
you simply held me when I thought I would break, when I had nowhere else to go and hardly anyone around me I could trust.” Shaking his head, picturing Charlotte, the only other one that made him feel like he deserved to matter.” All those times I watched you jump to other people's aid without fear..or hesitation..how you got upset for others sake and didn’t take bullies shit even when they’re bigger than you?” A scoffing chuckle, hardly able to think of a guy back home, that hasn’t felt the fiery sting of her fists, he included, from the fun scuffles or rare heated spats, and she made sure none forget their burn.

Inhaling slowly with a gentle brush of his thumb against her tear-streaked cheek.” I had always admired you, your ferocity, your bravery. How..how you fight so relentlessly trying to save people and when you can’t
.” He sighed, hating what this dark magic had done to her..made her think.” So I’ll be damned if you think I’m gonna let you shove me away so this black hoo doo can keep feeding crap that you’re some kind of killer?”

A fierce glint of stubborn defiance burned in his eyes as he gently lifted her face upward until facing him, her tightly closed eyes, like always, hiding whenever Kazu got too close
how she seemed to want to sink into the dark allure with nothing seemingly stopping her.” Well, too bad
cause I won’t let you, cause I’m not going anywhere
not this time..not again..not ever.” Closing his eyes on a shaky exhale, having experienced losing her once already and given this miracle a second chance, there was so much he wanted to tell her..to show just how much she meant to him, but doubted she could resist much longer.

Gulping with a nervous bite of his lip, chest pounding like ferocious drumming.” As there’s no darn tootin way in hell I’m leaving you to deal with Asher’s gang or Calbert or whoever on your own
” Trailing off as if wanting to say more, instead..

As he gazed at Olivia's face, picturing her pretty smiling face illuminated by the fireflies, the small flame in her palm, glowing like moonlight, a flame made not to burn, but to heal.” I always knew you were magical..with or without this magic, to me you were already a dazzling sun and
” His eyes gazed wide, lovingly at this dangerous woman who both terrified and thrilled him in ways no food or story could match.” And if you ever start to doubt that or hear that damn voice try to make you believe otherwise then
then
”

The image of Percy kissing him on the forehead popped into his mind causing an intense burning blush on his face as all the hesistations and doubts that always made him too late, how many times he must have let her down, how much he had worried over her non-stop and had longed for nothing more in this moment than to be with this woman and give her all his feelings..even if she didn’t return it.

Without warning pushed the last few inches forward, his lips awkwardly pressed against hers in a clumsily deepning kiss pouring every ounce of tenderness and love he could muster into this moment, the world freezing, no longer mattering, only the eletric touch of her lips, each second lasting hours as his mouth burned fiercely as if he was kissing the sun itself.

What lasted only a second felt like a lifetime, and still, he craved for more even when he could no longer breathe. Breaking the kiss, unsure how long it had lasted or what would happen after..might get punched or worse, but he loved her regardless, and now she knew, whether she rejected him or not, as long as she knew he would always come to her side.



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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Tae
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Tae

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Time: Evening
Location: Banquet Hall
Interactions/Mentions: @Apex Sunburn Iyen & Sjan-dehk
Aesthetic: Outfit



Kalliope didn’t respond at first. Her gaze lingered on the room, tracking exits, movements, tension. But when Iyen let out that obnoxiously triumphant “Duwah!” and slammed her mug down with all the subtlety of a boulder, Kalliope’s mouth twitched despite herself.

She shot her a sideways glance.
“You’re a menace,” she muttered, but this time the words came dry and almost fond. “I hope you’re proud.”

Then came the rest—about Sjan-dehk, about acting, about idiots and misunderstandings—and Kalliope listened, silent but intent. When Iyen called her an amazing actress, she gave a short, humorless laugh.

“It’s part of the job,” she said simply, fingers brushing the rim of her goblet. “Fool enough people, you might even start fooling yourself.”

The pointed finger toward Sjan-dehk made her exhale softly, her gaze falling for a beat.

“I’ve known him not even a week,” she said, almost to herself. “One week, and he’s already tangled in things he doesn’t deserve. And yeah
 he probably thinks I pushed him away because I wanted to.”

She finally looked back to Iyen, one brow lifting.
“A decade, huh?” Her tone was dry. “I think you’re an optimist.”

But this time, she didn’t roll her eyes. Not at Iyen. Not anymore.

The moment Sjan-dehk and her eyes met, it was like the rest of the room—its tension, its crumbling civility, the ghosts walking in silk—blurred into the background.

He came.

And gods, he said her name like it still meant something.

The sound of it was soft, but it hit her like a tremor beneath the skin. And then his hand
his hand, rough from ropes and salt air, warm and certain, settled on her bare shoulder.

Her breath caught.

It wasn’t dramatic. No sharp intake, no gasp. Just the quiet stilling of breath like a ripple freezing across still water. The warmth of his palm spread down her back, sent a bloom of heat straight into her chest and spiraled low in her belly. It wasn’t just the touch—it was the gentleness of it, the anchor in it, the quiet, unspoken promise that she wasn’t alone.

Her shoulder leaned into it before she could stop herself.

Just a little.

Just enough to betray how much she wanted to lean in fully.

Her heart fluttered
no, that was too sweet a word. It pounded. Slammed against her ribs like it wanted out. And for one stupid second, she let herself imagine the impossible, that she could reach up, place her hand over his, and everything would feel safe for just a moment longer.

But the moment passed.

He pulled away.

The absence left a cold print on her skin.

The sting of it surprised her.

It was ridiculous, really, how much she hated the loss of that hand. Like she’d been holding onto something warm in the middle of a storm, and now the wind was back.

Her lashes lowered slightly to hide the flicker of ache in her eyes.

She hadn’t even realized how much she’d wanted to feel that touch again until it was gone.

Iyen’s teasing jab jolted her back into the moment, and Kalliope let out a low breath, barely a laugh.

“No,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual. “I didn’t mind.”

Not even a little.

Her eyes lifted to meet his again, lashes low, mouth curving, not into a smirk, but something quieter. Gentler. And then, with just the faintest tilt to her head, she let that familiar edge slip back in.

“But if you’re going to touch me like that,” she said, her voice dipping into something warm and wicked, “don’t take your hand away so fast next time. It’s rude to tease a girl like that.”

She let that linger, like perfume in the air, then sobered.

The flirtation faded from her expression, and something more serious, something softer, took its place. Her fingers brushed the rim of her glass, then stilled.

“I owe you an apology,” she said at last, quieter now. “For earlier. For how I acted.”

She glanced briefly at Iyen, then back to him.

“I told her part of it already, but you deserve to hear it too. When you carried me in
I wasn’t ashamed of you. I didn’t want you to stop.” Her gaze lowered a beat, shame flickering beneath her lashes. “But someone else from my past is here tonight. Someone dangerous. And when I saw them
 all I could think about was getting you away from them before they saw you with me.”

Her fingers flexed lightly on the tablecloth.

“I didn’t want you marked. Didn’t want you noticed. I panicked. And then I made it worse by pulling away and walking right into another mess.”

Her voice was steadier now, but still low. Still laced with that unshakable thread of guilt.

“I know it might’ve looked like rejection. Or confusion. Or worse. But it wasn’t about you, Sjan-dehk. It was about trying to protect you in the only way I knew how.”

A pause.

She scanned the room again and noted the emptying tables, the nobles in hushed conversation, the tension she could feel more than see.

“It could be nothing,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Just noble drama. Scandals. Drunken politics.”

Her eyes found his again, this time holding.

“But just in case it’s not... I’d rather you stay close.” She offered a faint, crooked smile. “Besides. I feel like I need to make it up to you for being rude.”
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Helo
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Helo Wonderlust King

Member Seen 2 mos ago


Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Attire: Winners wear red & black!
Interactions/Mentions: Cassium, Edin, Morrigan, Roman, Wulfric, Ari, Thea, & Hala



“And even still
” The bastard’s eyes held steady as he delivered a blow with no force behind it. “My father loves me more than our King has ever even pretended to love you.”

For Clarence neither craved, nor felt the sting of the absence of Edin's love. He smiled and sipped his wine as the unwanted mother, the distant elder brother, and the chaotic sprite of a sister all jumped to Callum’s defense.

“Appears that I have love in spades.” He shrugged, and although Cassius’s attention had shifted to the woman that embraced him, Clarence addresses the comment more for Edin’s ears.

“But I think a father’s love is best shown by being there for his children, through their whole lives, no matter how difficult they get, and how far they stray in their youth.” He looked at Edin as he spoke and gave the king a respectful nod. It only added a cherry on top that his words might add a little sting to Calbert. There was no reason to let a count think itself an equal among royalty. It was a point he suspected Edin might be able to wrap his feeble mind around if explained privately. Another time, another setting, but he’d find a way to detangle the Damiens from the Danroses.

It was something Callum wanted after all.

Lady Morrigan broke her silence, “Who are you?” She leaned in to whisper.

“Do you not recognize your cousin, Morrigan?” He whispered back, a voice so low only she could hear, his wine glass held perfectly to hide his lips.

“Too much wine, or has memory faded in your advanced age?” He mocked and spoke with the same disdain he felt seething within every memory Callum had of his cousin.

“I am Callum Danrose.” He reminded her, and that was true enough. He was Callum in every way that mattered, and soon Callum would be indistinguishable from him. It was not a maybe, he’d already been let in. It was only a matter of time. He sipped his wine. He ate from his plate. He watched the room.

“As the king decrees I acquiesce. I shall not pursue courtship with Lady Violet Damien until it is otherwise allowed by the powers that be. Am I of the understanding that these wishes apply to Lady Crystal Damien as well?”

Clarence smiled as he chewed. Roman was far more interesting than Callum’s memories suggested. The promise of a duel flared up and quickly died away. It would’ve been fun to watch the bear pummel the wolf to death, but, alas, mortals tried so hard to pretend to be civil these days. He appreciated Wulfric’s encouragement to drop the masks, nonetheless.

The bickering continued. More minor squabbles flared around the tables. Nobles bleed from the room. To the balconies. To the hallways. To the courtyards. They spilled out in droves.

The king had such little control of his people. They mocked him in the way they fled his feast. Gods, it was hilarious. This regime was already teetering and overdue for a toppling. Clarence sipped his wine and ate his food. He’d watched Ari’s gaze linger in his direction before she had left the room. Clarence turned to Wulfric.

“I know I shouldn't leave the table, but I must check on Ariella.” He informed Wulfric as he stood up. He followed the same path she had taken, as if compelled by matters of the heart. For as terrible a poet Callum was with words, there was something tragically poetic about his actions. It was part of what drew a spirit like himself to such a mortal.

He found Ari outside in the company of Thea and another he didn’t recognize. He’d caught just the tail end of Hala’s speech and wore his approval in the form of a mischievous grin.

“Whatever you three are plotting, I approve wholeheartedly. This entire feast is a chaotic disaster. Isn’t it delightful?” He asked.

“Prince Callum Danrose, pleasure to meet you.” He dropped into a bow that held not an ounce of Callum’s awkwardness, but with all the agile grace of a monkey, as he introduced himself to the one he didn’t recognize. His crown never slipped, it sat upon his head like it belonged there.

“And a very happy birthday to you, Thea. I’m looking forward to the real party.” Clarence spoke with only sincerity. The feast required too much pretending, but a party promised something more freeing.

“Did you enjoy my gift?” He asked, his attention finally settling on Ari. “That little dose of public embarrassment thrown your mother’s way.” Something just behind his eyes promised that was only the beginning, that Victoria Edwards was just another thing he couldn’t wait to see topple and fall apart.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by princess
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princess

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Location: Castle Dining Hall
Interactions: @Lava Alckon Farim @Rodiak Nahir @Potter Kira @Helo Rohit


Hafiz sat still as marble, eyes fixed ahead as if observing a far grander tapestry than the one draped behind the throne. Roman Ravenwood wielded charm like a dull dagger, flashing it openly, mistaking recklessness for wit. And now, with one graceless swipe, he had sullied both his own name and the girl’s with it. Hafiz watched Violet’s humiliation unfold with the detached scrutiny of a man studying a crack in fine porcelain. She shattered slowly, not with a scream but with a controlled voice. It would have impressed him
 if he found sentiment impressive. More so, he found her pain delightful to witness. Hafiz considered the idea that Roman was controlling an unruly woman who secretly loved being shown for what she really was, and he chuckled to himself.

Let us see how long she lasts before she crawls back into the ashes she came from.

Calbert, however. Now that was a man Hafiz had underestimated.

That smile of his, so civil
 so terrifying. The Count had taken offense like a noble should: coldly, publicly, with just enough restraint to remind the court that he could have chosen violence and had not. Hafiz noted it carefully. He had long dismissed Calbert as a schemer grown soft with sentiment, but there it was—steel beneath the silk. A father who had been poked too close to the heart.

He would need to be watched more closely.

He swirled the wine in his goblet, though he had no intention of drinking. His voice, when it came, was low and smooth as lacquered wood, offered to no one and everyone at once. “How fragile we become when we mistake appetites for allegiance,” he murmured aloud, the words light as air yet heavy with judgment.

He did not look at Roman. He didn’t have to. The insult hovered in the space between them like suffocating perfume. “Passion,” he added coolly, “has slain more empires than it ever built. But let the children keep playing at war with their hearts, and calling it virtue.”

He let Rohit's words then take his attention, and he smiled at him. "Rohit,” he began, “your father is a man of sharp instinct. I pray you grow into it
 in time.” Hafiz’s fingers traced the rim of his goblet, eyes fixed on Rohit with the faintest flicker of amusement—like one might regard a child putting a crown on a dog and declaring it king. “You mistake indulgence for benevolence, Amar.” His tone was calm, but barbed like thorns hidden beneath silk. “But then, you’ve been afforded the luxury of mistaking many things.”

He leaned back slightly, his voice low and smooth as oiled steel.

“Joy does not keep borders secure. Nor does art silence a hungry mob when the grain stores run dry.” A pause, his gaze flitting toward the feasting crowd. “A ruler who feeds spirits over stomachs courts only one thing: rebellion with rhythm.”

Then, as if the moment had grown tedious: “Do throw your festival. Drape it in laughter and silk. Let them feast until their bellies burst. It will make the silence afterward all the more deafening.”

Hafiz's gaze then slid toward Farim. “Commemorate me?” he echoed, voice silken and low, like the beginning of a threat disguised as a compliment. “How generous. I look forward to seeing how you capture restraint and wisdom in gold leaf. Though I fear your artisans may not be familiar with such qualities.”

Meanwhile, the commotion at the middle table rippled through the banquet hall, and Hafiz kept tabs on it all. How embarrassing for them all.

“ALEXANDER DEACON!” The sharp bark of Lorenzo's voice sliced through the air, grating and theatrical. It struck a nerve so deep, it felt almost ancestral. Even from a distance, the sound of it reignited the bitter taste of old offenses.

Residual anger stirred, uncoiling like a serpent in the chest. The memory of past humiliations, of Lorenzo's thoughtless provocations and irreverent antics, was never far from the surface. Hafiz had endured fools before—but Lorenzo Vikena was the rare kind that delighted in dancing on knives. And worse... sometimes managed not to bleed. He glared in the fool's direction, watching as he soon left with the king's peculiar advisor. His pale daughter followed after as she always did, and so had Damien's bastard. Roman expressed interest insanely so in the other Damien daughter, and soon Violet and her mother were also departing.

A faint smile curved his lips—not in amusement, but in promise.

Let them crumble. He would build from the rubble.

Hafiz had just lifted his goblet to his lips when he heard the first thud of paws on linen. His gaze snapped down the table in time to witness an airborne beast—flanks jiggling, jowls flapping—soar over porcelain and poultry like a hellhound loosed upon civilization. Duck, pork, and ribs went cascading into the air like debris from a battlefield, a crimson arc of wine launching upward as Nadim’s massive paws crashed squarely onto Nahir’s shoulders. Hafiz’s breath caught. His eye twitched. The goblet remained frozen mid-air, tilting slightly. His vision narrowed to the chaos as Nahir, rather than remove the beast, shoved it toward him. The Vizier barely had time to suck in a breath before forty kilograms of fur and gleeful slobber landed directly on his plate.

One paw skidded across his chest, another knocked his wine to the floor. He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

His nostrils flared as slow, hot rage began to bloom behind his eyes. The world around him may as well have gone silent. “You disgrace yourself.” he hissed, voice low, trembling with rage he refused to fully unleash. Hafiz rose with terrifying composure, shoving the dog aside with a flick of his hand, the beast’s yelp dismissed as beneath his notice. His gaze found Nahir’s, sharp and merciless as he continued for just her ears:

“You couldn’t even protect Kahrem. "

A cruel smile curved his lips. He let the words linger, let the silence stretch like a noose before speaking again, “And you’ve done no better with yourself. ”

He stepped closer, voice dipping to a silken whisper that was almost intimate, but entirely lethal. " You flail for attention like a drunk on stage and call it diplomacy.” He then leaned in, his voice sinking to a deadly whisper.

“You’re not your mother, Nahir. And gods know, you’ll never be me.”


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Hidden 1 yr ago → 1 yr ago Post by princess
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princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago


Time: 6pm
Location: The Castle Dining Hall
Interaction/Mention: @Tpartywithzombi Violet @ReusableSword Roman @Silverpaw Wulfric @FunnyGuy Alexander/Lorenzo @Helo Callum @Oso Cassius @Tae Mina


“That is as ludicrous an argument as claiming Anastasia's flair for dramatics is a cunning tactic”, Wulfric countered quietly.

Alibeth paused mid-sip. Her lashes lowered, then slowly rose as she turned to regard her son fully. Her face was still, but the corner of her mouth drew ever so slightly downward. As Wulfric turned his attention back to the conversation, Alibeth’s eyes drifted quietly across the hall—landing on Kalliope. The woman was not watching them, not focused on the words volleyed like blades across the table. Her eyes were elsewhere.

“...I see your point. Too genuine to be a mere strategy. ” She looked once more at Kalliope, something more calculated in her expression now. “We will need to speak with her about her priorities if we are to keep her employed with us.”

However, other matters were of more importance. Alibeth’s gaze swept the room with deliberate ease. Yet beneath that surface stillness, her thoughts moved swiftly. She found herself increasingly curious—concerned, even—about what precisely was unfolding with both Ravenwood and Callum. Though she was less familiar with Roman Ravenwood, she could tell from the reactions of those around him that he was acting out of character, and even more noticeably so was Callum.

If these were matters of magic, as she was beginning to suspect, then fate had delivered them to her feet at the perfect time. Quietly, strategically, she had positioned trusted witch hunters throughout the dining hall. Camouflaged in silks and smiles, sitting beside dukes and duchesses, they were not here to enjoy the feast. They were watching. Waiting. And her best card had yet to be played.

As people left the room in droves, she tried to meet the eyes of Torvi. However, she wasn't worried. There was not many places where people could not go in the castle where they would either be heard or seen right now.

Meanwhile, King Edin was several goblets past respectable and entirely unbothered by the simmering tension in the room. In fact, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Slouched contentedly in his gilded chair, he tore into a hunk of roasted pheasant with the gusto of a man at a tavern brawl rather than a royal banquet.

As chairs scraped and nobles excused themselves one by one—some with urgency, some with tight-lipped tension—Edin barely seemed to notice. Or, rather, he noticed in the most Edin way possible.

“Where’s everyone going? ...Even my puppet boy!” he huffed through a mouthful of meat, leaning over slightly toward Alibeth with a dramatic whisper that wasn’t quiet at all. “Did someone say duel by the way? Or is that girl crying again? I love when they cry. It’s so passionate.”

He blinked blearily at Wulfric. “You didn’t scare them off, did you? You do that. You have your mother’s face when you frown—it’s terrifying.” Alibeth gave no reply, though the sharpness in her sideways glance suggested she had considered stabbing him with her butter knife.

Unbothered, Edin sighed dramatically and stabbed at a pile of candied plums. “Ugh. Banquets are no fun when everyone starts having feelings.” He turned to a servant behind him. “Bring me something that bites back. Wine or a woman, surprise me.”
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by princess
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princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago


Time: Evening
Location: The Castle Dining Hall
Interactions:@Lava Alckon Farim @Silverpaw Wulfric
Mentions: @Helo Callum @Oso Cassius
Attire:Dress, Hair



“If you bully my sweet little brother again—THEN I WILL NOT BE YOUR FRIEND ANYMORE!”

”That will teach him - friendship status with a princess like yourself is a rather huge deal, no?”

Anastasia paused, eyes narrowing with a pout that could rival a stormcloud. “Exactly! Not because I'm a princess—just a cutie like me.” She shook her head. “Tragic.”

Farim gently tugged at Anastasia’s sleeve with a friendly grin. ”Perhaps he is having issues at home and this is the cause of his outburst? It is written plain as day along his face the man seems to be going through some things. But may I also share something with you?”

She was thoughtful for a moment, then she smiled and agreed. “Perhaps. She sighed, shoulders dropping. “I probably won't remember that happening in an hour anyway. Hope he feels better then.”

Then she leaned in a little, curious despite herself. “Okay, what? What are you gonna share? Is it juicy? Is it scandalous?” Her eyes sparkled.

”I do not know how to say this properly - but whatever it is that is standing there, it does not appear to be your brother. His flesh, yes. His clothes, yes. Even his face, yes. But there is something sinister about his demeanor - call it a hunch but I would like your opinion on this. Is that really your brother? You may answer later, I shall cover this with another question to make everyone less
.suspicious?”

Anastasia's brows knit together as she took that in, her heart fluttering as she eyed her younger brother. Why wouldn't that be my brother? Oh... Is he talking about magic? Callum did show me his magic... Maybe something went wrong.

Her gaze lingered on Callum, her fingers tightening around the edge of her sleeve. “You’re not wrong. He’s... different tonight.”

”Sorry - such gruesome details of Alidasht court are not my favorite thing to discuss. But now that you know how we have typically handled such outbursts in the past. How is it your royalty deals with such moments? Aside from the Queen brandishing blade and threat - will there be more to come of this or shall this be swept under the rug?”

She scrunched her nose. “Mmm
 Well, mother usually pushes father to do something if things get really bad. But honestly?” She lowered her voice a bit, glancing around. “He only steps in when it personally annoys him. So unless someone throws wine at his face, it’s usually just... ignored.”

She paused, then added with a slight shrug, “I guess we’re more of a ‘sweep it under the royal rug and pretend it’s fine’ kind of family.”

Anastasia’s brows furrowed deeper as she continued watching Callum. Her lips parted like she was about to say something, but the words caught in her throat. Suddenly, she rose up. “I just gotta go talk to him—he’s my baby brother, Farim.” Her voice came out soft, teetering between tipsy and achingly sincere. “Even if he’s all grown and tall and moody now. He used to fall asleep with jam on his cheeks.”

She moved to step forward, instinctively reaching for him—only to pause. Her heart gave a soft, confused thud. Callum was leaving! She hadn’t even seen when he got up, but there he went, fading out of the room like smoke through fingers. Her hand lingered in the air, reaching for someone no longer there.

“...Fuck, he left.”

A few seconds passed before she straightened with a breath and turned toward Farim. “Okay. Plan B. I’m going to talk to Wulfric.” She gave him a half-smile. “You can come if you want. Wulfy always knows what to do, and it's fun when he pretends he’s not happy to see me.”

She didn’t wait for confirmation, and Anastasia then made her way across the room and quietly slid into the chair beside Wulfric—the seat Callum had been in before.

She tilted her head toward her eldest brother, her smile small but genuine.

“Hi, Wulfy,” she greeted. “How are you doing over here?”

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by SilverSpring
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SilverSpring The night speaks in whispers

Member Seen 6 hrs ago

Time: Dinner Time
Location: Banquette
Mention: [@Lava] Drake
Interactions: @heloClarence @JJ Doe Hala @Tae Thea
Appearance: Light blue gown with Silver accents

Ariella’s fingers tightened gently around Thea’s arm, her brow furrowing as she listened — really listened — to every cracked, trembling word. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush to fill the space. She just stayed there, steady and present, letting Thea pour it out.

When Thea’s last words hung in the air, soft and raw, Ariella gave a small exhale, her eyes glinting faintly in the moonlight.

“Oh, Thea
” she murmured, her voice low, threading between humor and heartache. “You are not too much.”

“You’re not too loud, or too reckless, or too big-hearted for anyone who’s worth a damn.” Ariella’s lips tugged into a wry, crooked smile. “If they can’t keep up with your fire, that’s their failure, not yours.”

“And for the record, my brother? Drake doesn’t hate you. If anything, he’s probably sitting inside right now wondering how badly he screwed up and if he should be out here apologizing. Trying to keep the family name strong.” She gave a soft laugh, a flash of teasing in her eyes.

Her expression softened, voice dipping.

“I came after you because I know what it’s like,” Ariella admitted quietly. “To feel like you’re never enough. To feel like you’re walking on a stage where every move you make is the wrong one. To carry the weight of people’s disappointment like it’s stitched into your skin.” She swallowed hard, her throat working. “I know what it’s like to stand alone after the storm hits and wonder if anyone will still be standing with you.”

Her fingers squeezed Thea’s arm again, firm, grounding.

“But here’s the thing: you don’t have to stand alone tonight.”

Ariella offered a small, lopsided grin. “And if anyone tries to come after you — your mother, my mother, the whole damned gossiping crowd — they’re going to have to deal with me first. And trust me, Thea
” Her grin sharpened, just a hint of mischief flashing through. “I might not look it, but I am exhausting when I’m on a mission.”

She leaned in slightly, her tone softening again.

“So maybe Drake’s not the only Edwards who can make you feel safe.” Ariella’s gaze met hers, steady and clear. “And maybe you’re not as alone in this mess as you think.” She offered a smile, raising the bottle to her lips for another long drink.

A voice then slipped in, and Ariella froze mid-sip, the wine bottle hovering just below her lips as Hala’s heels clicked closer. Her eyes flicked up, narrowing as the turquoise-robed figure snatched the bottle from Thea. Ariella’s first instinct was defense as she looked at Hala with a questionable expression, but she didn’t interrupt. Not yet.

She had no idea who this person was; perhaps they knew Thea, but she did see Hala rather close with Milo earlier. Why did they follow them?

Ari brought the bottle back to her lips, taking another large drink as she started to feel the slight buzz in her head, her cheeks pinkening in color. Her lips parted to speak, but a familiar voice stopped her.

She turned to see Cal — Clarence — join them. Her face lit up, excited to see him; there was still a strange feeling knowing it wasn’t Cal, yet having him there didn’t seem to matter all the same.

“Did you enjoy my gift?” he asked, his attention finally settling on Ari. “That little dose of public embarrassment thrown your mother’s way.”

The glint in his eyes made her smile brighten more as she nodded. “I did! It was better than a bouquet of flowers,” she grinned. “Did you see what I did!? Spilt wine all down her dress. She had some choice words for me, but
” Ari shrugged. “I managed to make her leave for the time being at least.” she said proudly with a smile.

Ariella’s hands, still holding the wine bottle, lowered slightly as she took a step closer to Cal, wanting to close the distance. Her gaze lingered on him for just a moment longer than necessary before she glanced away, smiling with pink cheeks, trying to regain some semblance of control over herself. But there was no mistaking it — Callum’s presence always made her feel like maybe, just maybe, the world wasn’t so heavy after all.

She glanced back up at him with a smile. “I’m happy you came to join us! Thea and I were starting her birthday early,” she smiled, looking over at Thea with a smile before offering Callum the bottle of wine.

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Hidden 1 yr ago → 1 yr ago Post by CitrusArms
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CitrusArms Space Spatula

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Stratya Durmand

Time: 28th Sola, Evening
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Attire: Military Formal, in Caesonian colors
Boar Mantle of Spring Hunting
Family Dirk + Crest, worn on the right
Swordbreaker, also worn on the right
Interactions: Torvi @Tae, Matthias @Rodiak, Hafiz @princess, Nadim @JJ Doe
Mentions: Zarai, Callum @Helo, Morrigan

Gideon had, in his gentle way, told her to mind her own business. Stratya had let silence reign in her response. She didn’t really feel like hollering down the table any further, anyway. She could possibly say something about receiving guests with sweet and not sour, but, ah. There was enough shouting going on.

The center table had tempers rising rapidly. She couldn’t hear Roman well. His voice carried, but it was muffled because he was facing away from her. The rest of the conversation told her plenty enough. In particular, Cassius Damian had some very daring things to say.

He swung wildly with his words. Where she had been cautious and poked at Victoria from afar with a lance, this man came in with a great double axe, all wide swings and fury. The person behind him was all he cared about, get out of his way or fall. Admirable, on a certain level, but she couldn’t help but-

The Queen rose to her feet, violence in her stance. This drew all of Stratya’s attention.

”Aw, shite.”

Suddenly, she was ready to spring to her feet, possibly vault the table. There were two empty seats on the other side, plenty of clearance between. She’d prefer the Queen not shed blood, especially not on all this delicious food. If anything, she could humiliate this man in a duel. They didn’t need to escalate things.

Two shouts stunned the argument. First, Duke Lorenzo, then, the Princess. The first threw everyone off, and the second cut the tension. Stratya sighed, relieved and drew her chair back into place, “think I’ll ‘ave tae werrk wit’ ‘err on tha’..” though her eyes were still on Cassius Damian. Hadn’t he gotten on rather well with Callum at Drake’s party? They’d seemed to bond over Cassius’s bastard status, not this scorn and spit he was spouting, now.

It was a curious thing, as well, to watch Cassius’s fury drain away, like it had melted into nothing. There at one moment, simmered down and then lost the next. That was something that took mental training. The broad swings he’d been taking earlier spoke against such discipline. She’d been confident he had enough to not start a fight here, but.. had that earlier disturbance been him, as well? Behind her, among the columns. She hadn’t seen.

And now Charlotte Vikena appears? The Captain’s eyes darted to the king and then looked away again with a grimace. There was that same disgusting manner he’d regarded her with, that she’d tried so hard to ignore. It made her skin crawl. She had to guess he’d ogled every young woman that came before him today.

Lady Zarai had gotten up. Three empty seats across from her, now, and many more all across the hall. Zarai had said something about water, right?.. was that not water, there?

Her eyes shifted back to Lady Charlotte, for just a moment. She seemed impaired, but not.. drunk. No, Stratya had seen plenty of drunk, before. That was not drunk. That was.. something else. It seemed familiar. Disturbingly so. So many oddities tonight. It couldn’t all be coincidence.

Sir Matthias had appeared while Stratya had been otherwise occupied. Zarai and Torvi had greeted him - if you could call what Zarai gave a “greeting” - and now the Caesonian knight turned to find the Varian knight at his freshly adjusted seating - with cakes! Importantly, she turned just in time to catch Lady Morrigan lean toward Prince Callum, and caught the words on her lips.

If Lady Morrigan was also suspicious of him, then that sealed it.

“So many running. A banquet should not feel like a battlefield. And yet
”

A dry chuckle, a brief glance of camaraderie, “tell me ‘bou’ i’.”

Stratya turned her attention to, “Serr Ma’tias, I ‘ope ye’ve ‘ad a fine evenin’.” She eyed his cakes, as two servants came by with a stein of mead, each. One for Torvi, one for the absent Zarai. Stratya glanced at Matthias, “brring i’ rround, would y’ please.” Looking at the servant, she tilted her head indicatively toward the other knight. She fought the urge to just reach across for it. “Perr’aps I c’n interrest ye in a-”

A crash across the banquet table caught her attention. A dog was on the table. She’d heard grumblings about the Alidasht penchant for animals, but this was the first time Stratya had agreed without reservation. That animal should not be in this hall.

What she did not agree with was striking the beast. Her jaw dropped. That creature, clearly a pet, likely had little say in the conditions of its life. It was cared for and wanted for little, she had to assume, but its circumstances were not its own to control. Therefore, it could not be blamed for its behavior. It was up to proper training to teach pets how to behave. The fault did not lie with the pet. That much she knew.

Her jaw tensed as it closed, joints clicking quietly as it unhinged and rehinged in anger, before it settled into place. She drew a slow breath through a scowl as she stood and grabbed the largest bone from her plate, and hissed with a sigh, “excuse me ferr a momen’.”

He’d opened a bottle of fire, thoughts of Zephyr stoking the flame.

“Grrand Vizir Hafiz Kadirr!” As her feet carried her around the High Table, that rage focused into a still blade. Rarely heard fury roared across the hall, “we have laws against tha’ sorr’ of disgusting conduct in our lands. You WILL NAE strrike yours orr any otherr pets within ourr borrders.”

She passed behind the Queen, “and in case I need tae be explicitly clea’ with yourr,” she paused meaningfully, as though choosing a word. She chose none, “self,” spat, like speaking of him disgusted her, “tha’ goes for servants, peasants, commoners, and whatever else you’d fancy calling them, too. Naturally, anyone else. That would be assault.”

She marched toward him, all fury and rage, burning, seething, holding a-... a bone? And then she marched past him, and as she did, the anger seemed to melt. She smiled sweetly and knelt down, holding her her hand out with the bone, “ooh, y' poa, swee' thing. Come, come. Where’s y’ master, ey? We’ll ‘ave tae ‘ave a talk wit’ 'em abou’ all this, at’s ferr trrue.”

A bone, an irresistible dog treat, at a very uncertain moment in this dog’s life. A sweet, gentle voice, from a strong-seeming person. The dog approached her and accepted the bone. The captain received him with many pets and adorations, “oooh, there’s a good boy, yeaaah. Aye, aye, wha’ an ‘andsome lad, too! Did that nasty man,” a pointed glare at the nasty man in question, “hur’ you, y’ swee’ thing. Ooh, you didnae deserve tha’, sweet baaaaby.” She took a look at his collar, for his name. It was in Alidasht.

She stood, and turned, holding her hand out for the doggo to follow her. Her gazed fixed to Hafiz, though she spoke not to him, “come along, puppo. I’ll keep y’ safe ‘til yer maste’ rreterrns.”

The fury was still there, waiting for him to make a mistake. Daring him to.
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Hidden 1 yr ago → 5 mos ago Post by Potter
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Potter

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Time: Evening
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Interactions: @Rodiak Nahir ☁ @princess Hafiz
Mentions: @CitrusArms Stratya
Aesthetic: ☁ Hair ☁ Dress ☁ Necklace ☁ Shoes


Kira smiled as Nahir addressed her. The sands of Alidasht had blessed her with this beautiful and perfect woman who Kira was honored to sit next to and enjoy her company. Before Nahir could finish her sentence, Hala’s giant dog came barreling over. Kira stifled her own yelp and shielded her face and arms. Unfortunately, the food and wine went flying all over Nahir and herself, due to their proximity. The relentlessly slobbering, while cute, was not welcomed. Nahir attempted to fix the situation, even allowing a shriek to escape her, which was bound to attract everyone’s attention. She scowled and went to help push Nadim off of Nahir, when the latter sent the dog flying towards Hafiz instead. Laughter bubbled up inside of her, and she suppressed any amusement.

It was an understatement to categorize Hafiz’s rage. Kira could feel her blood run cold, but amusement reflected in her topaz eyes. Nahir attempted to salvage the situation, as though it were an accident. Kira wiped the contents of their dinner off her hair and dress as she listened to them. The knights came due to Nahir’s beckoning and removed the dog. Hafiz’s words, while unheard by others, were audible to Kira and her eyes narrowed. Before the guards arrived, however, Hafiz smacked the dog. Newfound rage boiled up inside of her and she made no effort to hide it. She leaned in to listen as he spoke to Nahir, too quiet to say it louder.

His words were icier than the lake frozen in the winter. It was a familiar sentiment, and one that caused her skin to crawl and fury to rise. He continued chastising her and Kira could not remain silent. This man needed to be put in his place and she wasn’t afraid of doing it. In the background, however, one of the female knights came over and yelled at him, and then called Nadim off to walk him. The knight continued glaring at him, daring him to respond. Deep inside, Kira applauded her. What a good ally she would be to have. Kira winked at her and turned back to the situation.

”Her, disgrace you?” Kira retorted. She stood up with her own cold fury and channeled her own anger into it. When Kira wanted to be serious and scary, she was capable. She leaned over Nahir’s shoulder and her long black braids gently tickled her back. ”There have been more rumors and talk of you than her.” Kira glared at him. While she didn’t know who he spoke of, she knew it had to be someone close to Nahir and a low blow. ”Throwing that in her face is rude and unnecessary. It goes to show everyone who you are inside. I’m sure the talk of you hitting a dog will be in the paper, so everyone in Caesonia knows who you are,”

When he stepped closer to Nahir, Kira took a half step forward so they were even and met his gaze. It was clear that she didn’t have any fear. If the definition of boldness were in the dictionary, it would be Kira. If he dared to move against her, she was ready, though she doubted his commitment to acting. She could tell how much rage he was holding back. ”Nahir is ten times the person you will ever be,” Kira’s words sliced through the air like a knife cutting an onion. ”Looks like you’re the one flailing in this dinner. How many scandals are you involved in now? Nobody is like you because they don’t want to be; you’re cold, cruel and lonely. The sands of Alidasht have told tales of your misdeeds, Hafiz, and they’re not good. Nahir will always be better than you.” She allowed her words to hang in the air.

Now, Kira turned to the subject of their lovely discourse. Her words were gentle and her expression softened. Kira gently set a hand on her shoulder for comfort. ”Dear Nahir, would you like to go clean up?” Kira gestured to where the bathrooms might be. ”Maybe some fresh air will do some good.” While waiting for her answer, she kept her body positioned in front of Nahir and kept Hafiz in her peripheral vision.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Apex Sunburn
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Apex Sunburn Justified text enjoyer

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...Feat. Iyen

Time: Evening
Location: Banquet Hall
Interactions: Kalliope @Tae
Mentions:
Appearance: Iyen Sjan-dehk
Attire: Sjan-dehk Iyen
Equipment:


Sjan-dehk was just about to tell Iyen off for interrupting, when Kalliope spoke.

And for a moment, he relaxed. There was something refreshingly familiar about the playful notes, the hints of mischief that coloured her first few words, that calmed the tempestuous thoughts in his mind, and eased the wearisome weight that pressed upon his heart and shoulders. For a while, all felt as they should be, as if his troubles from earlier had been naught but a figment of his own imagination.

Of course, that Kalliope hadn’t disagreed with Iyen certainly helped.

He answered her smirk with a grin of his own. Words gathered on the tip of his tongue, the beginnings of a quip to counter hers. But before he could say anything, she apologised.

Then, she explained herself.

He listened in silence, the mirth on his face cooling to an expression more sombre, more serious. His eyes remained locked on Kalliope’s, except when she averted her gaze, and the one occasion when he threw a sidelong, questioning glance at Iyen. The Sudhrayarn woman didn’t look at him, instead coughing into her fist and gaining a sudden, deep interest in the embroidery of the tablecloth before her. That told Sjan-dehk everything he needed to know. He let out a quiet sigh that existed more in his head than upon his lips, and shook his head slightly.

Remorse dripped from every word, every syllable that left Kalliope’s mouth. Each was like a knife piercing him to his core, filling him with self-reproach for having been so selfish. This entire time, he’d only thought of his own feelings; how it’d stung when she’d left him for Cassius; how she’d left him in a mess of tangled emotions, and how discontented he’d felt about the whole situation. Had there ever been a moment during his self-pity when he’d considered how she might have felt? Or even tried thinking of other reasons for her actions that didn’t involve him?

At several points, he wanted to speak up, to tell her plainly that she didn’t need to apologise. That she had nothing to apologise for. But the words wouldn’t come.

And so, he continued to listen in silence.

Only when she’d finished did his voice return to him. “Kali–” He began quietly, but quickly stopped himself, his eyes momentarily closing in thought. She’d taken the time to give him a proper explanation. The least he could do was to take the time to think over, and give her a proper reply.

He dragged an empty chair over—the same one he’d sat in while talking to Charlotte—and placed it in the middle of Iyen and Kalliope, forming a ring of seats. “You don’t owe me an apology, or anything, really,” he said as he sat down. “The fault’s mine for, ah
” A faint flush washed over his cheeks. He hooked a finger into his collar and tugged on it. “Assuming certain things. In hindsight, I should’ve guessed that there were people from your past here, after
Well, you know, after what happened in the hallway.”

And in hindsight, he should have also guessed that those people had great capacity for danger. Hafiz had certainly seemed that way.

“Assuming certain things, huh?” Iyen’s amused voice piped up.

“Not now, Iyen,” Sjan-dehk replied quickly and smoothly, as if this was something he’d dealt with umpteen times before. He didn’t even look at her, although her words did resonate with him. Kalliope had explained why she’d wanted to so desperately get away from him, earlier, but still Sjan-dehk wasn’t sure whether his assumptions about her relationship with Cassius were right. And that uneased him greatly.

No. Now is not the time. With a swift rebuke, he pushed those thoughts aside. They could wait.

“If anything, I should be thanking you,” he said with a little smile. “I’m used to being the one protecting, not so much the one being protected. It’s new to me.” He chuckled softly before continuing. “But I’ll admit that I feel
Better, knowing that I didn’t do anything to make you, ah, feel ashamed. I didn’t mind it, carrying you in here. It felt
”

His voice trailed off, and he finished his sentence in a bashful murmur. “Nice.”

Iyen let out a barely suppressed giggle. Sjan-dehk shot her a look, and she simply hummed in response.

“Ignore her, she’s just being
Iyen.” He shook his head, cleared his throat, and turned back to Kalliope. He grinned—a small, hesitant one, but a grin nonetheless—and reached out for her shoulder again. “But you don’t have to worry too much, Kali,” he said and leaned forward, resting his palm upon his smooth, supple skin. “Think I might’ve told you this before, but it might be worth repeating, now. Whatever fight I get into is my choice. If your enemies want to mark me, or notice me, then let them. You’re
A friend.”

Friend. It described his relationship with Kalliope perfectly.

And yet, he didn’t like it. There was a bitterness under it that sat poorly in his mind.

“You’re important to me,” he corrected himself, before he knew what he was saying. “I-I mean, well, you’re an important friend–”

Iyen gave him a slap on his shoulder, and not a gentle one, either. “Stop it, Sjan-dehk,” she said, laughing, and looked at Kalliope with an expression that was half apologetic, and half ‘I told you so’.

“You stop it,” Sjan-dehk said and shot her another look, but with much less vitriol than before. It was more out of embarrassment, than any sort of genuine irritation or annoyance. He drew in a deep breath, quickly looked around the banquet hall, then returned his gaze to Kalliope. “But yes, if anyone wants to come after me because of you, then I’ll just have to fight them.” He spoke casually, as if he were talking about a mere future fishing trip. “It wouldn’t be the first time I got involved in courtly nonsense that turned violent, and I’m still here, so I’d say that I’ve got a pretty good track record with these things.”

He grinned and gave Kalliope’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Besides, someone has to watch your back as well, I think. Can’t let you do all the protecting.” Without thinking, he slid his thumb over her joint. He didn’t even notice what he’d done, so focused was he on looking her in her eyes. “And it looks to me that things are coming to an end, anyway. Most everyone’s gone.”
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Hidden 1 yr ago → 1 yr ago Post by SilverPaw
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SilverPaw

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Attire: Banquet fit, a simple princely crown
Date and Time: Sola 28th, 6pm
Location: Castle dining hall
Mention(s): Cassius, Charlotte, Violet, Liliane, Calbert, Fritz, Mina, Morrigan, Hala & Nadim, Nahir, Kira, Stratya, Farim
Interaction(s): @princess Alibeth, Edin, Anastasia, @ReusableSword Roman, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo, Alexander @Helo Callum

Unfortunately, his idea of a duel did not bear fruit. Cassius left to check up on Charlotte, while Ravenwood claimed he was no proficient with a blade. Wulfric scoffed lightly. “I know you are a warrior as well, Lord Ravenwood, though whether you ever choose to duel or not is up to you.”

More and more nobles were leaving, like animals fleeing when sensing impending disaster. Was it just the tension from all the arguments, or was there something more
?

His gaze scanned the ballroom, cool and assessing.

Violet and her mother were next to leave, though that was solely due to Ravenwood’s actions. Meanwhile, Calbert had that trademark all-knowing, smug smirk of his. The kind he tended to wear when he thought he’d already figured everything out, and believed all would go according to his plans.

Ah, well. Calbert and Ravenwood would hopefully sort it out without need of his intervention.

Deacon finally showed a hint of his true self with that denigrating look of his. Oh, he'd pay for it. He'd timed his words and demeanor well; just in time for Lorenzo's outburst continued, who he dared to speak up against him. “You forget yourself, Duke.” The blue-gray of his eyes were like a flash of lightning striking Lorenzo’s. Wulfric was so, so very close to calling the guards on him, but
He was curious to learn what he wanted with Alexander. A helpful servant could fill him in later on, perhaps.

“I suppose you can be thankful cutting out tongues is considered passĂ©.” His gaze firmly settled back on Alexander, his tone was casual as ever. He flicked his hand, effectively dismissing both men.

Soon after their departure, Charlotte followed, then Fritz as well as Cassius. Meanwhile, Mina was urging Roman to accompany her for a private conversation.

Callum too informed him of his intention to depart. “You might as well. It is not as if there are many people left to make conversation with.” He tracked his brother’s figure even as he left. His gaze landed on Morrigan. Who are you? she had asked her brother. Not what is going on or what had happened. Wulfric had only considered the latter, but now new possibilities bloomed in his mind. Could it be an impersonator? A body double? Magical manipulation? Possession? There were so many options


The queen’s gaze betrayed her, if only to someone who knew her as well as he did – she was picking out the witch hunters she’d hired. He suspected they both sensed the strangeness in the air, and were readying for potential trouble. Too, she had agreed Kalliope must be spoken to, to which all he said was, “Indeed.”

Edin contributed to the conversation with a most insensible suggestion. “I believe they left for their own reasons.”

CRASH!

Wulfric blinked slowly as he observed Hala’s dog charging onto the table, then running straight at Nahir. He hid a tiny flicker of amusement behind his wine-glass; it was a bit funny, he had to admit. Even so, he was aware the gentlemanly thing to do was to offer assistance. Since Kira and Stratya appeared to have it in hand, he merely beckoned a servant. He directed the employee to inquire with the Shehzadi and Lady Kira if they wished guidance to a room or help with freshening up.

Anastasia stood up abruptly. Peripherally, he noticed she was staring at Callum’s departing figure. He raised a brow as she slid into their brother’s empty seat. “I was observing the most recent highlight of this banquet,” he stated with a pointed glance to where a dog had run over all over a table. He leaned next to Anastasia’s ear, and whispered with a smirk, “Do you think his owner did it on purpose?”

He leaned back, taking a look at her suitor. “You did not abandon Shahzade Farim just to ask me how I am, did you?” The man seemed expectant, as if he wished to join them. “Since so many people have taken their leave, why do we not find a room for our conversation, as well?” He suggested. “If you agree, feel free to lead Shahzade Farim to the beige drawing room. I will join you in a moment.”

He stood up, and bowed to his parents. “Your Majesties. I will be available if you have need of me.”

That said, he approached a few servants and guards who stood at the sidelines of the hall. He tasked them with watching out for those within the hall as well as those who had wandered elsewhere. Whether the guests would need to be ushered back to the hall, protected and evacuated, or dismissed at the conclusion of the banquet, it would all be taken care of. As he made his rounds, one of the servants – a spy he had tasked with observing the invitees’ magicae – covertly handed him a scroll with his notes. Wulfric did not so much as react, merely put the message aside. On his way out of the hall, another servant approached him with a different missive, one from Ravenwood.

It was not until he withdrew into a private room that he unrolled the spy’s sheet of parchment, and scanned the names with their recorded auras.

Callum


Something truly was wrong with him. Exhaling, he secreted the list away, and departed for the beige drawing room, where he expected to find Anastasia and Farim.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Helo
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Helo Wonderlust King

Member Seen 2 mos ago
Lord Leo Smithwood



Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Interactions: Drake @Lava Alckon
Mentions: Thea, Lorenzo, Zarai, Hafiz, Nadim
Attire: “Why was I not told red was the color for tonight?”


”But I shan't speak out about it publicly.” Mr. Neutrality refused to crack, Drake offered not a sip of tea, not a crumb of drama to add to the feast.

“Then I hope to have the opportunity to meet with you privately.” Leo countered, with a raised eyebrow and a sip of wine. He watched Drake pour almost a full bottle of red into his wine glass. Either something was bothering the guy, or given the events at the man’s birthday party, maybe he was a little bit of a drunkard. Perhaps Leo would try again after Drake had finished off a glass or two.

”Call me a fool if you wish, but I am a man who still believes in love of the truest form - and I may yet have found that in your sister, to be perfectly frank. It honestly makes it even harder having to sport my political voice like that in front of her. But it felt like things were simply building into an inevitable topple - so I hope you understand that is not my normal state. I tend to prefer the more stoic and measured spectrum of emotion.”

“I wouldn’t call you a fool Drake. There are worse vices than indulging in romantic optimism.” Leo popped a bite into his mouth, pausing to chew before continuing. “Thea isn’t fond of the games politics requires us to play but you handled the situation as tactfully as one could.” He answered as Drake continued speaking and even slid a slice of Beef Wellington onto Leo’s plate. The offering was met with a nod of thanks.

”I also like to think we share the same sentiment on protecting our family through the means we find the most fitting. It’s rather poetic in a sense.”

“Poetic? Maybe.” Leo shrugged. “But I can’t think of anything more natural than wanting to protect one’s family. Someone has to be the one that holds everything together. The one who keeps the foundation solid and builds upon it for those who follow after us. Some men treat this like a burden, but it is a mantle to be worn with honor. I think you get that, Drake, I like that about you.” Leo admitted as he carefully cut a bite from his portion of wellington. It was exquisite, and made even better by the lack of mystical weirdness that followed his food.

”If it makes you feel any better - no words that others may share about your sister carry any weight to how I feel about her. It only proves that they are blind to the person she really is.”

“Exactly who is saying what about Thea?” He asked abruptly. The calmness in his tone now replaced with a sharp edge of ire.

As if on cue, Duke Lorenzo continued his tradition of publicly placing his foot inside his mouth. “I do not wish for Charlotte to become like one of these young Varian girls with no self-worth!” Any good will Leo had for Lorenzo turned sour.

Leo’s head snapped in Lorenzo’s direction. “Hey! Shut it, old man. I’ll make you eat your words, pendejo! You don’t know shit!”

He clapped at Zarai’s words. “He’s one to talk. Some noble’s have not a shred of dignity to them.” There was no hush to his tone, whenever Lorenzo returned from his talk with Alexander, he was certainly getting an earful from Leo.

From the otherside of the room a dog let out a yelp of distress. Leo rose from his seat and looked in the direction of a large dog who had clearly just been struck by the Grand Vizier. He had half a mind to toss diplomacy aside right then and there but one of Caesonia’s knights appeared to be handling the situation already. Albeit, a bit too kindly for Leo’s tastes.

“I hope we can both agree that a man who strikes a dog outta be strung up by his balls and left there.” He half muttered as he sat back down in his chair.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Helo
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Helo Wonderlust King

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Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Interactions: Stratya@CitrusArms, Hafiz, Nadim
Attire: Red like the other cool kids


Nadim leapt across the table and onto Nahir. Nahir shoved the mass of muscle and dark fur over to Hafiz. Food flew everywhere, glasses and dishes shattered on the floor.

Then Hafiz struck the dog and Nadim let out a sound that broke hearts.

“My father is the second wisest man in Alidasht, right behind the radiant Sultan, himself. But it is a weak and foolish man who mistakes violence for strength.” Rohit said as he stood up from the table and followed after the knight who came to Nadim’s aid.

“It’s Nadim.” Rohit said once he’d caught up to Strayta. “The dog. His name’s Nadim. He really is a good boy, probably just excited about seeing everyone and all the food
” He looked around and had no idea where Hala had gone.

“Anyway, he’s Hala’s dog. They must’ve stepped out for a minute.” He said, then he looked at Nadim and grinned.

“Nadim, do you need a hug?” He asked and smacked his chest, encouraging the dog to come to him. Nadim, who had the look of a dog you didn’t want lumbering after you, but who had the temperament of a happy pup who simply forgot his size and power; wagged his whole butt and bounded towards Rohit. The dog’s massive paws slammed into Rohit’s chest with just enough force to knock him back a couple steps and the dog received a plethora of ear scratches.

“Who's a good boy! Nadim is. Who doesn’t understand table manners? Nadim doesn’t. Who wants to go for a walk?” He asked.

Nadim froze for a second at the word ‘walk’. His paws fell back to the ground, his feet did the tippy tappy dance of excitement. A singular, loud bark echoed through the dining hall.

Yes. Nadim wanted to go for a walk.

“I can take him if you want to return to your food. Or, you can join us. Keep us safe from any potential dog-nappers.” He offered.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by princess
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princess

Member Seen 23 hrs ago



Time: Evening
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Attire: Dress, Amulet
Interaction: @Oso Cassius @JJ Doe Fritz @FunnyGuy Lorenzo/Alexander



“If you were poisoned, should you be out here eavesdropping rather than on your way to a doctor?”

His question brought a faint flush of embarrassment to her cheeks, mingling with her already heightened nerves. "I am not entirely certain that poison is the culprit," Charlotte replied quietly as she accepted the lens, her hands betraying her with a subtle tremor as she lifted them to her eyes.

"I’ve scarcely eaten nor drunk tonight, but the vividness of the hallucinations makes such a possibility impossible to dismiss. Symptoms like these—distorted perception, disorientation—are consistent with alkaloid-based toxins..." Her brow furrowed gently, the gears of her mind visibly turning behind her blue eyes as she studied the muddied edges of her aura through the lens. It was perhaps clouded. But still, she withheld any rash conclusions, though the chill twisting down her spine whispered otherwise."...Yet, regardless of what ails me," she added, her voice softening but the steel threading through it unmistakable, "I will not—cannot—leave my father at the mercy of that villain."

“These symptoms
 do they feel similar to that night at the masquerade?”

Charlotte shook her head gently as she returned the lenses to Fritz. "No, dear. This is different," she murmured. Her gaze followed Fritz’s demonstration with the tumblers, the corner of her lips curling faintly as recognition stirred in her expression. Her expression grew tender, her voice a whisper filled with profound sincerity. “Thank you, Fritz. You always have a remarkable way of appearing precisely when I need you most.” She smiled faintly, a fragile, gracious thing that did not quite reach her eyes.

With that, Charlotte pressed the tumbler to the door. Her breath slowed, lashes lowering as she focused, allowing the muffled chaos beyond the wood to filter through—every word, every syllable sharpening into clarity:

“Don’t pretend to be foolish! You know exactly what this is about!”

“I
 I don't, your grace
 If it's about your shares with the Black Rose Trading Company, your hefty investment is more than secure, I assure you.”

“Oh! Hmm
 let's discuss this matter quickly and then we can talk about you and Charlotte.”

Charlotte inhaled sharply, her heart suddenly loud in her ears. Lorenzo has an investment with the Black Rose? A hefty one at that? The revelation struck her like a slap, her breath catching painfully in her throat.

But before she could tumble further down that spiral, a hand landed upon her shoulder.

She gasped aloud, then her body recoiled on instinct. She looked over her shoulder, wide-eyed, until her gaze collided with his.

"Lottie..." It was Cassius, staring down at her with those eyes—those damn eyes she had only moments ago watched flicker with careless flirtation toward Kalliope. For a fleeting second, a cocktail of emotions bloomed within her: frustration, confusion, jealousy, and something she dared not name. But the chaos within her dulled as her gaze lingered upon his face.

"You shouldn’t be here. Not like this. I know you think whatever’s happening behind that door matters, and maybe it does... But right now, it doesn’t matter more than you." His eyes flicked briefly toward Fritz in a way that suggested he was trying to garner an ally in his pursuit, then back to her. "You look like you're about to fall over... your skin’s cold, your hands are shaking. Whatever’s happening to you... it’s not going to wait until you get the answers you want."

Her brows drew together once more, but this time not from fear—no, it was protest now, indignation flickering beneath the fragile veneer of her composure. There was a flood of responses rising inside her, a torrent of words she wanted to unleash. She wanted to say them all... To remind him she wasn’t some trembling damsel to be told where she should or shouldn’t be. That he, of all people, had no right—no right—

But then Cassius took her trembling hands gently in such a manner that the tension melted from her features like frost beneath morning sunlight.

"Come with me. Please. Just for a little while... let me make sure you’re alright."

The words were soft, coaxing—utterly at odds with the man who had moments ago faced the entire court with fire in his veins. Yet, it wasn’t his words that dulled the blaze in her chest. Though the anger still simmered behind her eyes, the fight seeped from her shoulders, "Very well," she whispered, "In a moment
 but first, I must be certain he’s safe." Her tone left little room for debate, as did the flicker of stubbornness that returned to her gaze. With that, she inclined her head toward the door, lifting the tumbler once more to her lips, determination painting her expression with resolve.

“Terrible. Absolutely terrible! She came back home with her eyes low and barely able to sit down to listen to how my performance went at the theater! I'm sure you heard. I won the damned thing! No contest!”

“And
 what about now? Lottie. I she doing better? I believe I noticed her spea-”

“DON’T YOU!”

“Don't you dare say it, Deacon! Don’t you dare tell ME what you saw! Are you blind?! Do you not see that I am her father?! The only parent she has left
 I saw everything she did tonight. I saw how she slowly crumbled away
 She crumbled away and lost her self-worth while staring at her reflection in her wine glass
 Do you want to know what else I saw, Deacon..? Hm?!”

"Lost... my self-worth?" The words left her lips in a fragile whisper, like the ghost of a thought spoken aloud before she could stop herself. Confusion furrowed her brow, as if the words themselves cut deeper than she could immediately process.

“What I saw was the moment my Lottie decided any man who could so much as breath
 was worthy enough for her embrace. And it's all because of you
 isn't it?”

Charlotte stared at the door, lashes trembling as tears welled in her eyes, blurring her reflection into something unrecognizable—a broken, desperate silhouette she refused to claim as her own. Is that truly how he sees me? The thought rang like a death knell in her mind.

“Lorenzo, I’m sorry. Truly, I am...but I am not the man who wounded her heart. That dove is too precious. A rare soul that young woman is... In truth, Charlotte was in a similar state at the art gallery as well. One moment, she was wallowing in something deep. Drowning in it. The next, she was preening over me. She even attempted to kiss me...but it was our first outing together and in the public eye
 you and I, we both know how such an intimate exchange would look
 with a married man at that. I was only trying to protect her in my refusal but
 I do wonder now, Lorenzo. Who could have hurt her
 Twisted her mind in such a cruel and awful way?”

So that was how Lorenzo saw her. A pitiful, foolish girl. So starved for affection she’d drape herself over any man who so much as breathed in her direction. Just another desperate, simpering whore. That was how they all saw her now, wasn’t it? Ever since that cursed ball.

And truth be told, she had thought she’d stopped caring. But she had been wrong. Because perhaps what some strangers thought in a gossip column hadn't mattered. But what her father thought did.

Her stomach churned violently, and for a moment, she thought she might
The sour burn of humiliation clawed at the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down bitterly, forcing it to stay where it belonged.

Had she been naïve to believe Lorenzo—her father—would see her? Understand her? And yet, here she was, still glaring at the door like a child, clinging to a hope already shattered in her trembling hands. Foolish, broken hope that he might see through Alexander’s honeyed lies. That he might believe she had not preened over that serpent of a man. That she had not tried to kiss him of her own will—that he had twisted her mind, not the other way around.

It was one of the moments where there was too much to say, so much so that she could scream. So much that it strangled the words in her throat. Only a suffocating silence followed as she pushed herself to her feet, skirts brushing the cold stone beneath her trembling legs. Her face remained the portrait of composure, but inside, something ancient and feral twisted. And when she rose, the mask cracked... not into tears, but something else. Every breath felt jagged, caught between fury and heartbreak, and in that breathless, unbearable moment, she braced herself to throw those doors open.


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Hidden 1 yr ago → 9 mos ago Post by Potter
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Potter

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Olivia

Persephone
Time: Evening
Location: Castle Dining Room
Interactions: @samreaper Kazu
Mentions:
Aesthetic: ♞ Dress♞ Hair ♞Shoes
Everything in Olivia’s head went quiet the moment his lips met hers. The shock of the moment completely stunned her. It was as if someone had immobilized her using a spell. Why was he kissing her? Didn’t he hear anything she’d said? She was bad luck–a walking, talking human black cat–bad luck, that was jinxed, cursed, whatever word fit her. In the end, she’d be his downfall. Confusion and fear wrapped around her mind and began causing her head to pound. Part of her wanted him to stay and wrap his arms around her. The unconditional love was something she craved deep down. It was a feeling she was unused to feeling. Any compassion toward her felt fake or temporary, because at some point she’d either ruin that person’s life or fuck up. Even Charlotte’s and Cassius’ warmth toward her had felt alien.

Both warmth and dread spread through her. Tears filled her eyes and raced down her cheeks. For now, her dark magic tendrils dissipated around her. Her head was quiet, and the emotions were a wild storm inside waiting to be unleashed. Recklessly, Olivia returned the kiss. It wasn’t experienced at all; she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. Genuine happiness rushed through her. Once she realized what she was doing, and quickly broke away with wide-eyes. Her expression was wide-eyed and filled with mixed emotions. She clenched her fists and grasped her head. The tendrils began returning and she buried her hands in her hair.

His words echoed in her mind. The memories of their meeting, hanging out together, chasing fireflies, of him being bullied and mocked and her beating the people up, and Calbert holding the gun to his head, rushed through her mind’s eye. A mixture of anger, frustration, joy, self-loathing, fear, and happiness raced through her. Olivia took several deep breaths. The voices began creeping back in. She was poison–something he continued to drink until she’d stripped him of his life. He needed to understand that. Kaz's words that she was his sun, his light and his warmth, challenged it. He was a moth attracted to her flame. Olivia tensed and her pupils struggled to remain green. Then, she realized how she was bending back to the darkness, and broke down sobbing. Fortunately, she wasn’t loud enough to be heard by the feast, sine there was enough drama going on.

Her voice was a blubbering mess. ”I don’t want you to leave. Please help me.” Her strawberry wet hair became plastered to her face and her green eyes begged him to defy her words. Run, Kazumin–plese.
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Oso

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Time: Evening
Location: The Royal Banquet




The hall was already fraying at the seams.

What had begun as a banquet was unraveling into something else entirely. Tension clung to every word, too thick to ignore and too dangerous to name. The wine had long since lost its warmth, laughter had thinned into strained and uncomfortable chuckles, and the air felt tight with the weight of threats and scandal alike.

No one noticed the draft, not at first.

The first sound came softly. A metallic scrape, barely audible over the music and chatter. Then it came again, heavier this time. A slow drag across the marble floor, steady and deliberate, it increased in volume with every second that passed.

Then the doors opened.

Not with drama. Not with force. They opened with perfect calm, but if the creaking of these banquet doors hadn’t of draw attention
 The presence of the man behind them would have.

The wind came in first, a cool breath that kissed the flames and swept along the floor. Candles guttered, voices faltered, heads began to turn. Conversations stuttered and fell silent mid-sentence. And then a force of nature walked through the doors.

There was nothing rushed in his movements. No need for speed or spectacle. He stepped into the hall with the kind of control that demanded attention on its own. His coat was long and black, trimmed in blood-colored thread so dark it only showed in the reflection of light. His boots left an echo behind them, perfectly paced, and every step felt heavier than the last. His hair was tousled by the night air, stark white and wind-whipped
And his eyes
sharp green, cold and unblinking, swept across the room without hesitation.

In his hand, he held a chain.

Thick and iron-wrought, blackened by time and soot, it wound around his gloved palm and dragged behind him as he walked. The sound of it cut through the silence with a steady rhythm. Each link scraped against the marble floor with the weight of wicked anticipation.

He said nothing, and yet his eyes somehow met those of every single person in the room.

The banquet had gone quiet. Completely. People shifted in their seats but didn't speak.

The man kept walking, each step brought more of the chain forward, and the question it asked grew louder in every heart.

What was on the other end?

He reached the center of the hall and came to a slow, deliberate stop. Not near the head table, not before the king
No he stood in the perfect center of the room, where no one could pretend they didn’t see him. The chain pulled taut behind him, stretched to its full length. Then, without a word, he gave it a single pull.

The sound of it echoed.

From the darkened corridor, the figure stumbled forward.

A woman, bound and gagged, dragged into view by the chain coiled around her wrists and waist. She wore white, a dress once regal now soaked and torn at the hem. Her bare feet slipped against the floor. Her hair fell in damp strands around her face, and her eyes
wide and searching
looked for someone who might help her and found no one.

She was not a stranger, not to all of them at least. Some knew this woman as a server, last seen at the birthday party for Lord Drake Edwards. The one where everyone wound up drunk in the most suspicious of fashions.

The moment stretched. Gasps slipped from noble lips, but still, Kilian didn’t speak.

He didn’t look at her.

His attention lifted, slow and unshaken, and settled on the throne. More specifically, on the queen seated beside her king. His gaze passed over the man entirely as if he were a shadow dressed in a crown.

When he inclined his head, it was precise, not respectful but not cold, either. Just perfectly measured and controlled.

Then finally, came his voice. Smooth and calm, but low and rich with quiet certainty.

“Forgive the interruption, Your Majesty. I’m sure you were moments away from my introduction.”

He paused, letting the words stretch and settle.

“But I thought it might be time someone brought a little decorum back to this celebration.”
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Rodiak đ”Ș𝔩 đ”Șđ”žĂ±đ”žđ”«đ”ž, đ”Ș𝔩 đ”„đ”Źđ”¶, đ”Ș𝔩 đ”žđ”¶đ”ąđ”Ż

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dress ♛ crown ♛

C A S T L E D I N N I N G H A L L | E V E N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s :
Hafiz @princess , Kira @Potter
M e n t i o n s :
Hala's Stinky Dog





“You couldn’t even protect Kahrem
You flail for attention like a drunk on stage and call it diplomacy
 You’re not your mother, Nahir. And gods know, you’ll never be me.”

A piece of duck slipped from the napkin she held in her hand and landed with a soft smack against Hafiz’s shoes. Grease smeared down the embroidered designs and expensive fabrics.

Nahir didn’t blink. Not yet. But the silence that followed his words cut deeper than any scream.

Her mouth parted, just barely. Not in protest, no, never that and not so openly, but as though his words had carved something clean out of her. The flicker of surprise that crossed her features was raw, real, and momentary—a practiced beat of vulnerability.

Then, just as quickly, buried.

“Grrand Vizir Hafiz Kadirr!...we have laws against tha’ sorr’ of disgusting conduct in our lands. You WILL NAE strrike yours orr any otherr pets within ourr borrders.”

Nahir’s hands trembled. At any other time, she may have cursed them, but right now, she could not have asked for a better time for it to manifest. She tried to fold the linen napkin over itself, corner against corner, but failed to do so.

A woman scorned, like a child put in her place after being scolded for sneaking a dessert before dinner. That is what she was right now. And the outcome of Hafiz’s rage against her was nothing short of what she expected from her dear uncle, now the Grand Viz-hole. She did, however, feel bad for poor Nadim. She wondered what Hala would do when she found out Nadim had been struck by Hafiz, what would she say to Nahir?

Lady Miha would send over a basket with enough treats and toys for Nadim that would last him a week.

”Her, disgrace you?”

Nahir bit her tongue. Kira, stop.

“Nahir is ten times the person you will ever be,”

She wasn’t wrong. Hafiz was a spoiled brat in a man's body. A brat that needed to learn his place. A mere man angry at the world for always coming in second. His insecurities hidden under cruelty disguised as power.

Pathetic.

Her shoulders began to shake.

A quiver, soft and almost imperceptible, like the beginning of tears.

Let him believe it was fear. Let him think he had broken something in her.

The burn behind her eyes and the tightness in her throat could pass for humiliation or shame. It would please him. It would feed that sick, cruel part of him Nahir knew was there, the one that had bubbled to the surface. It would make him feel powerful. Her lashes were lowered, her gaze hidden.

Kira went on, and the more she went on, the more Nahir wanted to cover her mouth. Keep her as “this season’s entertainment”, but it was too late now. She had spoken and taken his attention. And now, with a few words to her defense, Kira was another light Hafiz would have the need to snuff out. Another piece to use against Nahir.

A servant came along as Kira offered to leave the hall.

Nahir looked up at Hafiz. She allowed a small slip, a tiny minuscule flash of rage in her eyes as they met.

“I need a moment,” she began to say, shaky hand reaching for Kira’s—

Then, everything went quiet. Cold. Still.

Golden gaze shifted to the man in the middle of the room, but her eyes followed the chain he held. It was like she forgot to breathe when Nahir saw the girl standing there.

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Lava Alckon
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Lava Alckon

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Farim

Location: Castle Dining Hall
Time: Evening of the 28th
Mentions: Hafiz, Anastasia @princess, Nahir @Rodiak, Kira @Potter, Rohit@Helo, Stratya @CitrusArms, and Wulfric @SilverPaw

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Amidst all of the chaos that ensued, Farim could not help but crack the sublest of smiles at seeing his father being chagrined in such a public fashion. It almost made him stoic to Anastasia’s parting - but he quickly snapped his focus back from his cathartic trance and gave her a subtle nod.

”I shall be with you shortly.” He said across the table as she journeyed over to Wulfric. Surely what that man had in store would be of intrigue.

But first, Farim swept himself carefully between the tables and scooped up his beloved falcon that patiently sat on the arm of the princesses chair. The bird’s gaze had been following Anastasia up until that point before enthusiastically climbing onto Farim’s arm, slowly stepping her way up behind his head; one of her favorite roosting spots.

The shehzade moved behind Hafiz, his robes making it seem as if he glided across the floor. Farim offered his father only this in whispers. ”What was that about wisdom and restraint again? Shall I have the artisans capture the moment you get an entire room full of potential allies in a frenzy? Come now, even I think you are better than this.”

His attention moved to Nahir - whose subtle reactions to something said in hushed tones made him raise an eyebrow. Farim continued talking to Hafiz in a gentle tone. No longer a whisper, but not loud enough to broadcast to everyone. It was deliberate and measured, just like his old man taught him. ”A man only rules through fear for as long as people are willing to be afraid.” Farim began. ”A ruler who feeds ego over humility begets only one thing
rebellion with passion. And passion
.” The young sycophant let the words hang in the air for a few moments. ”Has killed more empires than it has built. But you knew that already, did you not?”

But go on - feed your ego. Let it run wild as if you are the invincible man you think yourself to be. State your claims until that fateful dagger plunges into your heart - it will make THAT silence all the more rewarding. That little intrusive thought Farim kept to himself.

Farim sighed. But beneath the disappointment written on his face, there was a hint of satisfaction that people would not just write Hafiz’s actions off just because of his status as nobility. There would be a moment of pause before Farim moved again - for he was sure there would be some form of poised retort from the man. At the same time as Nahir, Farim excused himself from the group.

But before he made his way, the sound of scraping met his ears as the strange man made his purposeful entrance into the banquet hall. Thara made a nervous squak muted only by her discipline and forethought to not draw attention to Farim, who offered a comforting hand. His fingers gently pushed the falcon’s puffed feathers down with petting motions.

This individual was dangerous - that much was clear - and for once, chastising his father could wait. Farim stepped to the side until he had reached an equally distracted Anastasia. ”Do you know him?” He asked innocently.

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Tae
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Tae

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Time: Evening
Location: Outside the Banquet Hall
Interactions: @TpartywithZombi] Ariella, @JJ Doe Hala, @Helo Callum/Clarence
Mentions: @Helo Leo, @Lava Alckon Drake
Outfit: Dress, Hair, and Makeup



Thea’s muscles tensed the moment she heard the heels. Something about the rhythm–too intentional, too poised. Her wine-dulled haze sharpened at the voice that followed. As Hala approached, draped in theatrical silk and smirking like they owned the stars, Thea’s instinct screamed. Not just caution.

Danger.

Her brows knit ever so slightly, her eyes narrowing, posture subtly shifting as Hala reached out and plucked the bottle from her hand like they were entitled to it. Thea didn’t move to stop them, she didn’t need to. Her stillness was the calm before the strike.

Their words were clever, sure. Flowery. Poison dipped in perfume. But it wasn’t the performance that bothered her.

It was the way Hala spoke like they knew her. Like she was another pretty pawn to poke fun at. Like her shame, her brokenness, her constant war with herself was some kind of character flaw to lean into and flaunt.

She let them finish. She didn’t interrupt. She let them bask in their own spotlight.

And then, slowly, Thea tilted her head.

“How riveting,” she drawled, voice honeyed with mock interest. “A stranger arriving to offer their unsolicited therapy... while wearing the sky like a cape. How terribly noble of you.” She stepped forward just a hair, her voice quieting, but the sharpness was unmistakable.

“You speak so confidently about rebellion and disaster and not seeking approval. How convenient it must be to waltz into someone else’s storm and play prophet when you’ve never lived a day in their skin.” Her smile thinned. Her eyes did not.

“You know my mother, clearly. Or at least you studied her. But you don’t know me. Which is shocking, really, given all the rumors about me. If you'd listened to those you would have realized that everything you're suggesting has been my life for the last year.”

A flicker of something pained crossed her expression before it steeled again. “So forgive me if I don't find your suggestion to ‘go full disaster’ terribly insightful. I’ve already been there. It’s not as glamorous as you make it sound.”

She took the bottle back without asking, not even looking at Hala now. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Thea turned her back to them deliberately, exhaling hard through her nose as she pivoted toward the newest arrival.

Callum was a welcome shift in the atmosphere, like a jolt of mischief wrapped in charm. She gave him a half-laugh, hand instinctively going to her hair to make sure her clip from Charlotte hadn’t been jostled.

“Thank you, Prince Callum,” she said warmly, her tone gentler now. “I can’t wait for the party. Truly. And knowing you’ll be there only makes it more exciting. I have a feeling it’ll be the highlight of my season. Besides, your sister always comes up with the most exquisite and exciting parties.”

She glanced to Ariella then, catching the softening in her face, the unmistakable light in her eyes when she looked at him.

And Thea smiled.

Not for herself, but for Ari.

Despite everything tonight, despite the humiliation and ache still thudding in her chest, she felt something small and good bloom there.

Hope.

Ariella deserved joy. And by the look on her face, she might’ve just found a piece of it.

Thea’s gaze lingered on Ariella a moment longer, her smile softening, touched with sincerity this time. She stepped closer and, without overthinking it, pulled the other woman into a quick but heartfelt hug. It was more warmth than words, more gratitude than she could manage to say aloud.

“Thank you, Ari,” she murmured, her voice low but earnest as she pulled back. “Really. For coming out here. For checking on me when you didn’t have to. For making me feel like I wasn’t... completely drowning.”

She hesitated, glancing toward the tall double doors that led back to the banquet, her fingers tightening briefly around the neck of the wine bottle.

“I should probably go back in. Leo’s likely convinced I’ve thrown myself into the sea by now, and Drake
” her voice faltered a little, “well, I don’t want him thinking I regret everything. Because I don’t.”

She started to turn, then paused, concern flickering across her features as she looked back at Ariella, but not before briefly glancing at the stranger.

“Will you both be alright out here?” she asked gently, tilting her head as she glanced between her and Callum. “Or do you want to go back in together?”

Because if Ari or even Callum needed her to stay–even a little–Thea wasn’t going anywhere.
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