ayzrules

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

@ayzrules Near the edge, amonst the many painting that deserve a beat down. :D

@Eric Horst

lmfao aight

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

@polyatomicbeing @Eric Horst just wondering where in the ballroom are yu and eli atm-trying to formulate some kind of post for lea is all :D

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

A L E J A N D R O

---

With Princess Hye-ri seemingly occupied with something else, Alejandro cast his gaze about the room for something else to do. He took note of Prince Anastasiy Romanova's outfit-now there was someone he could talk fashion with, at some point-and let a flicker of amusement flit across his features as Prince Edwin Drakewine of Britannia (whose tunic was very unconventional and very unnecessary but quite excellent, in Alejandro's opinion, though not as excellent as the chitons traditionally worn by men in Pólemos) made his ostentatious entrance and headed towards his betrothed, Domitia, as well as...Prince Elias, who had been speaking to Domitia. Alejandro brought a hand up to the rubies dangling from his earlobes, briefly, almost involuntarily remembering how it had felt to do, erm, certain things with the Pólemesian prince, before his eyes landed on Prince Andronikos Telesphorides of the Athenian Federation.

Oh, now there was someone interesting. He was so very short, for one thing, and something told Alejandro that it would be amusing to talk to him.

Alejandro pranced over in his direction, cheerily snagging a fresh glass of champagne on his way over. As he got closer, he could make out the delicate gold embroidery on his suit-Oooh, now that is pretty. And the blue-very nice. To match the outfit of Valentine Blanchfleur, I presume? Who is not around, right now. Hiding, I presume. Hmm.

"Prince Andronikos! You look absolutely lovely tonight!" Alejandro said by way of greeting, beaming at the Athenian prince. "Please tell me, my dear Prince Andronikos, who you are wearing. And but oh, where are my manners? I am Prince Alejandro of Castilya." He flashed Anton a cheeky grin and leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"You must forgive me, of course, Andronikos, for being so terribly forward, but would you mind it too much if I simply called you...Ronny? It...flows better, wouldn't you think?" Alejandro's eyes twinkled with mischief and amusement as he took a step back and calmly sipped his champagne, tossing Anton a wink as he did so.

He has nice eyes. Mmm, and nice arms, too, from what I can see from here. It's a pity that he's not wearing a tighter jacket.

(Interacting with @Amethyst)

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

I S A B E L L A

---

Isabella mentally raised an eyebrow at the Glavnyan prince's less-than-perfect English. Although Evalusians officially spoke Castellano, as well as a couple of indigenous languages and/or dialects, nobles were usually taught English as soon as they were old enough to read and write. As such Isabella had grown up around the language, though like Anastasiy, she did not have much practical experience with it.

...Still, Isabella's English was much better than Anastasiy's, despite their respective accents. A difference in upbringing, I suppose, thought Isabella, with just the slightest touch of bitterness. It was no surprise that Isabella's father had wanted her to have near-perfect English; to him, the only thing she was good for was an advantageous marriage.

Isabella forced herself not to dwell on such unpleasant things, and she tried to keep the irritation from showing on her face. Instead, she plastered a pleasant smile across her features-well, she hoped that it was pleasant, at least, though who knew?-and nodded politely. "You are too kind," she said in response to his remarks regarding her gown, though there was nothing in her voice or expression to indicate any kind of modesty whatsoever. Isabella knew that the gown was lovely; it would have to be, given the amount of time that it took to make it. Besides, she had never been one for the timid glances or shy blushes or airs of false modesty that her father seemed to think all women should put on. And so what? she thought to herself. Why should I have to pretend? I know who I am and what I am capable of. Is that not enough?

Isabella dipped into a shallow curtsy after Prince Anastasiy introduced himself. "It is an honor to meet you, Prince Anastasiy," she said. "I am Isabella del Reyes, of Evalusia."

In the corner of her eye, Isabella spotted...well, her betrothed, presumably. His back was to her as he examined the refreshments, but Isabella could make out the white cowboy hat.

Of course, Of course he shows up in a cowboy hat, of all things, Isabella said silently, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew her father's reasons for betrothing her to Prince Quentin Houston of the Texas Sovereignty, of course, but that didn't make her any happier about it. She and Quentin were...very different, to put it mildly. He was this happy, goofy, carefree clown, whereas Isabella was decidedly ...not.

But he was also her ticket out of Evalusia, out of the oppressive stone walls in the mountains that were the only home she'd ever known, and if she had to live on a glorified factory farm the rest of her life to get out of there, then so be it.

At least, that's what she told herself. She had hoped for a different future, once. Espérame, Elena's note had said, the one that Isabella found in her jewelry box the day after her sister's alleged suicide. Wait for me. But she had waited six years, and still, there was nothing.

Of course, there also were those aristocrats Isabella had been in contact with, the ones who chafed under her father's rule and wanted to put someone else on the throne, but Isabella had her doubts about them, too. Who said that the person they replaced her father with-who would, undoubtedly, be some old man who had no business being there in the first place-would be any better? Isabella supposed that if said replacement was not so intent on currying the favor of the Catholic Church, or if he was not so downright sexist, it would be an...improvement. Nevertheless, Isabella was not particularly keen on putting her fate in the hands of these aristocratic revolutionaries who did nothing but talk, talk, talk. They spoke of constitutional monarchies and individual rights and freedoms, but who knew?

Yes, it would be safer to just quietly marry Prince Quentin and do as her father said. Unless...unless Elena decided to do something. But with each passing year, Isabella was less and less certain that she could put her faith in her older sister. She had her theories, of course; although she had never voiced them out loud, Isabella had suspected that Elena was in contact with the popular revolutionary movement that was growing in the countryside, but who could truly say?

Isabella knew she was overthinking everything. Whether or not she ended up marrying Quentin or not, she had to at least pretend she would do it, for now.

She purposefully glanced in Quentin's direction, before turning back to Anastasiy, an apologetic smile on her face. "I do apologize, Prince Anastasiy," she began, "but it seems that my betrothed has arrived. You will forgive me if I go find him, yes?" Isabella dipped into another shallow curtsy, then walked away, towards the refreshments that the clown she was to marry was eagerly examining.

"Prince Quentin," she said, sidling up alongside him. "I am Isabella del Reyes, of Evalusia. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The words were stiff, formal, gritted out from between teeth tightly clenched together in the politest smile that Isabella could manage. She took a steadying breath, forcing herself to focus on this moment and not on the million other things that she had to worry about. "I trust that your journey here was...pleasant?"

(Interacting with: @MorningStar1399 @OfWindAndRain)

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

hi everyone petition to make an AU where it's socially acceptable to punch edwin in the face for talking like an obnoxious twit

also petition for @darkwolf687 to tell us what edwin got everyone else, since this mans apparently brought gifts for all the ppl there

pls thx happy new year

Character Compilation!

34. TIFFANY ZHANG

(Originally from Academy 003: Seeds of Change)
Inspired by: Stephanie Wang, Lea Lynton

Tiffany Zhang

---

---

⫸ B A S I C I N F O R M A T I O N ⫷

"Pink makes everything pretty!"

▼ | BIRTH NAME : |

Tiffany Zhang

▼ | ALSO KNOWN AS: |

Tiff, sometimes. Mostly by close friends and family

▼ | GENDER : |

Female

▼ | AGE : |

18

⫸ A P P E A R A N C E ⫷

"I don't dress up for boys. I dress up to stare at my reflection as I walk by store windows-duh."

▼ | P H Y S I C AL S T A T S : |

▸ HEIGHT : | Five feet, four inches
▸ WEIGHT : | 116 pounds
▸ ETHNICITY : | East Asian (Chinese, specifically)
▸ HAIR COLOR : | Black
▸ EYE COLOR : | Brown

▼ | PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION : |

Tiffany's definitely not the most formidable of people, standing at five feet and four inches (though her impractically high heels give her at least another four or five) and weighing less than one-hundred and twenty pounds. Her hair is thick and straight, and it is naturally a jet black color, though she's dyed it everything from red to blonde to pink (back when dyeing your hair with Kool-Aid was a thing, in middle school). When she was younger, Tiffany was pretty indecisive about her hair, and was constantly getting it altered, but she's kept her hairstyle consistent since her junior year of high school. Right now, it falls a couple inches past her shoulders. Tiffany thinks that it's too straight, but unfortunately, her hair doesn't hold curls very well. Tiffany has taken to getting up an hour earlier just to curl her hair...even knowing that by the end of the day, all evidence of her hard work will be pretty much gone.

Tiffany's features are rather doll-like and dainty, and her warm brown eyes are always usually cheerfully optimistic and/or mischievous. Her eyebrows are perfectly plucked, and her pale skin is always flawlessly maintained via an extensive skin-care routine that Tiffany perfected in high school. Her face is somewhere in between "circular" and "heart-shaped", and her hands are rather small, though her fingers are long and slender (Tiffany attributes this to the hours of piano and violin she was forced to endure up until sophomore year). She is on the slimmer side and leanly muscular, thanks to years of ballet, Chinese dance, gymnastics, and cheer.

On most days, Tiffany refuses to be seen in public without a full face of makeup on-foundation, concealer, mascara, lipstick and/or lip gloss, eyeliner, nail polish, highlighter, eye shadow; the whole shebang. Tiffany loves anything sparkly and anything pink, and she takes great pride in her killer winged eyeliner. Tiffany's generally a pretty cheerful person, and it shows; there's always a playful spring in her step, no matter what choice of footwear she's got for the day, be it a pair of cute lavender ballet flats or seven-inch platform heels bedazzled with rhinestones.

▼ | ATTIRE : |

Tiffany's personal style is very pink and very girly. She loves everything sparkly, too, and she's always had a soft spot for florals. On a day-to-day basis, Tiffany likes skirts (especially those cute pleated high-waisted ones), crop tops, and loose, billowy cardigans, paired with heels and hoop earrings. When it's colder outside, Tiffany prefers longer skirts and dresses and/or skinny jeans with heeled boots, silk scarves, pea coats, and cute mittens/earmuffs...all in pink, of course. For special occasions, her go-tos are glitzy mini-dresses and sparkly stilettos.

⫸ P S Y C H O L O G Y ⫷

"If at first you don't succeed, fix your ponytail and try again."

▼ | PERSONALITY TRAITS : |

Friendly, outgoing, energetic, welcoming, optimistic, determined, talkative to the point of being annoying, impulsive, a bit shallow and superficial, silly, slightly ridiculous, really extra, super girly, comes off as a bit of an airhead, loves everything pink and sparkly

In-Depth

At a first glance, Tiffany is unnecessarily focused on small, overly specific details and unbearably girly. She is bubbly and outgoing, and her friendly, cheerful disposition is well-liked by her peers, even if they do make fun of her for her propensity of wearing high heels everywhere she goes. Though Tiffany can be very prissy and a bit shallow or superficial, she doesn't have a single mean bone in her body. She can talk about anything and everything for hours on end. Some tend to find this incessant chatter exceedingly irritating, which Tiffany is not always the most aware of. She is a kind and sweet person at heart, and she refuses to say anything bad about other people as a general principle.

If Tiffany is not always aware of how much she talks, she is quite aware of the feelings and thoughts of others. Tiffany is naturally people-smart and is good at picking up subtle hints that indicate shifts in emotions in others. She's a very good listener and always willing to offer comfort to other people. Empathetic, understanding, and cheerful, Tiffany is perpetually impeccably organized and ready for anything. She's a bit of a perfectionist with a stickler for keeping everything neat and organized. Tiffany has an infernal inability to keep her mouth shut on things that don't really matter, making her an incorrigible gossip.

Despite her rather silly tendencies, Tiffany is remarkably good at keeping track of and managing people. She has a knack for remembering names and faces, and for all her sparkly ways, she can sometimes be quite perceptive.

▼ | SKILLS : |

» Running in high heels of any sort (and outrunning you while she's at it)

» She's a very good listener, despite her reputation as a ditzy airhead cheerleader

» Besides English, she also speaks Chinese and Spanish...sort of (she's been taking Spanish since sixth grade, so she's gotta be fluent, right????)

» Making anything and everything look aesthetically pleasing. Especially her notes from class

» Nimble and flexible and lithely strong from her years of cheerleading, gymnastics (both rhythmic and artistic), and dance. She's also quite good at tumbling; ya girl can effortlessly throw a round-off Arabian double-back handspring sequence while reciting every brand of make-up that she's every used

» Applying sparkly pink eyeshadow while checking Instagram while operating a motor vehicle. Does that count?

▼ | BACK STORY : |

Tiffany's life has been, up until now, completely, utterly normal.

That's not to say that it was boring, of course. Tiffany had a ton of fun just being a normal girl at a normal school with a normal life. In fact, she liked it-she liked being a cheerleader, she liked Starbucks runs before school and sneaking out at lunch to get Chipotle, she liked football games and homecoming and prom, she liked shopping with her friends on the weekends and, well, she could put up with school on the weekdays.

Tiffany's family was pretty normal, too-she had a sister, five years older than her, and a mom and a dad and grandparents and cousins, just like everybody else. Her mother was a translator; her father an engineer. Her family was, for all intents and purposes, perfectly run-of-the-mill.

When she was four or five, Tiffany's mom signed her up for Chinese dance lessons being held in their Maryland hometown, and Tiffany found herself liking it very much. Later on, she would add in a whole range of related activities-ballet, rhythmic gymnastics, artistic gymnastics, jazz, lyrical, et cetera-only to give those up, one after another, as she got bored.

The one thing she stuck with, however, was cheer. Something about the inherent energy in the sport appealed to Tiffany, and besides. Being a cheerleader seemed so cool.

In high school, Tiffany joined the cheer team, and she loved every minute of it. Sure, there were times when it got stressful or tiring, but those were always outweighed by the awesome friends she made. The actual "school" part of high school wasn't as great-Tiffany didn't necessarily flunk out, but she wasn't making the honor roll, either. Her teachers would always accidentally call her by her sister's name, which was made even more annoying by the fact that she'd been valedictorian when she graduated, but whatever. Tiffany didn't really care.

Senior year, spring semester, was when Tiffany's life was turned upside down. It should have been one of the easiest semesters of Tiffany's entire high school career-she had already chosen to go to school in Baltimore with a bunch of her friends, and she had major senioritis and was so looking forward to prom and beach week and then summer vacation (finally) when the incident happened.

Tiffany had been out camping in the mountains for spring break, with a couple of friends from school. Normally, she wouldn't have agreed to such a thing (the "I-haven't-showered-for-three-days" look is so not her style), but one of her best friends had begged her to come, citing the fact that her ex would be there (and that she would totally need someone to vent to in case said ex did something, you know?), so Tiffany went, albeit a bit begrudgingly.

On the third or fourth day, the group of high schoolers went hiking. What should have been a pleasant, relaxing hike turned into something slightly less pleasant and relaxing as Tiffany's BFF fled from the marked trail, in tears over something her ex said. Tiffany, of course, chased after her (ignoring her hair and nails for the time being, which came out of the entire ordeal so messed up), and ended up catching up to said BFF. The two of them found a small cave-like opening in the rocks to sit and rest and catch their bearings, but Tiffany had just barely stepped foot into the cave thingymajiggy when she felt...weird.

Unbeknownst to Tiffany and her friends, the cave had contained a Delta-Crystal, though it wouldn't be until later on in the semester until her powers began to manifest. And when they did manifest, Tiffany freaked, à la White Chicks "I'm going to have a BF!". She didn't particularly want to be a Metahuman, thank you very much-she was supposed to have a normal life, even if it was pretty useful to be able to use her newfound abilities to get her make-up done faster.

When her parents realized what had happened, they were able to pull some strings to get her into one of the Academies meant specifically for Metahumans, since Tiffany's aunt on her mother's side worked for FAMA. Tiffany was not too happy to learn that, instead of going to college with her friends, she would instead be attending an Academy where she knew absolutely no one. But, of course, there was nothing that she could do about it.

All Tiffany wants to do is finish school at the Academy and get back to her old life as fast as she can. Is that really too much to ask?

⫸ P O W E R I N F O R M A T I O N ⫷

"If you so much as touch my hair, I'm going to rip you apart and put cute stickers on your corpse. Do you know HOW long it takes to blow-dry these bangs every morning?!"

▼ | POWER CLASSIFICATION : |

Type-Blue

▼ | POWER DESCRIPTION : |

Telekinetic-Virus. (shoutout to [@Surtr Inc])
Tiffany was exposed to the Type-Blue energy, and thus it has gifted her with a form of telekinesis that's somewhat more unique than other kinds. She's capable of releasing telekinetic energy into the environment (which appears as a hot pink light) that travels five meters before it dissipates. While this energy is traveling, it "infects" nearby objects, illuminating it in a hot-pink color, and basically allows her to manipulate it like any other telekinetic would. Any object infected with the "virus" can be moved, and she can also exert some advanced techniques such as crushing, bending, etc - basically anything any other telekinetic can do. She can control several objects at once, or several extremely heavy object - long as it's under 650lb she can control it without straining herself. She can, at will, dispell the virus and spread another one, however she can "spread" the infection by having an infected object hit something unaffected - infecting it.

▼ | LIMITS : |

Tiffany, first and foremost, cannot control what exactly the virus infects, but she can subtly influence it or spread it manually. The virus lasts around ten minutes before it dissipates and she has to create another one - also she can only have one "infection" at a time. In addition the infection doesn't follow her, so if she moves she'll leave the infection behind. Attempting to move anything over 500 pounds will cause severe mental strain on her, however she can manipulate anything infected with the virus long as it's within her line of sight.

▼ | WEAKNESSES : |

Tiffany's power is connected to her body, mind, and spirit. Using it causes injuries to her body in the form of your garden variety nosebleed, to horrific headaches, and strained muscles. She'll basically have one hell of a hangover after a particularly drawn out battle, the typical telekinetic weaknesses. A counter to Tiffany's virus, or a way to dispell it, is high intensity energy - given that it's an energy of a mental sort, once the two collide they'll cancel each other out.

⫸ O T H E R ⫷

"I prefer to describe myself as 'delightfully difficult'. And it would just be easier if you agreed."

Tiffany loves sweet things; bubble tea, cancer-inducing Starbucks fraps, ice cream, Oreos, doughnuts...as long as there's sugar in it, Tiffany will probably eat it. Her aesthetic consists of bright pinks and yellows and glitter and floral-print, topped off with a pair of suicidally-high heels, and she likes to decorate her notes and planner with cute stickers. She absolutely adores stationery and pretty notes written in sparkly gel pens.

"Legally Blonde", "Clueless", and "The Devil Wears Prada" are three of her all-time favorite movies. Though "Tangled" and "The Princess and the Frog" are wonderful as well. TL;DR Tiffany is a extra as hell and completely prepared to bullshit her way through the Academy in short skirts and glitzy heels

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

I S A B E L L A D E L R E Y E S

---

Princess Hye-ri returned her stiff, polite smile, and Isabella contemplated making conversation with the other girl (who had just been joined by the flamboyant prince of Castilya) for about a total of two seconds before she dismissed the thought from her mind.

Instead, she cast her gaze around the spacious ballroom, searching for someone who would be worth her time. Her betrothed had not yet arrived; Isabella wondered where he was, and how late he intended to be.

Her eyes wandered towards one of the walls, which was lined with paintings, where Prince Erik von Rothschild of Veredun was standing. Nearby was the crown prince of Glavnya, Anastasiy Romanova. Isabella drifted in their direction, idly watching the crowd and taking small sips of her champagne as she did so.

Although Isabella had never been too cognizant of other people's fashion choices (it mostly amounted to something along the lines of wow, this outfit would upset my father or wow, I definitely do not want to wear this thing), she had to appreciate the fact that she and Prince Anastasiy were wearing matching colors, coincidentally.

The Glavnyan crown prince had only been named heir about a year or so ago, if Isabella remembered correctly. His older brother and his wife had been killed-in a car accident, or something. She wasn't quite sure if they had ever discovered the true perpetrators of the crime. It was not surprising, really; her father did not tend to allow most foreign news websites and/or TV channels within Evalusian borders. Being King Gabriel I's daughter had its perks, of course; Isabella was, admittedly, able to access some of the more relevant websites. But one also had to remember that Evalusian internet was not exactly state-of-the-art technology.

"Pardon me for being forward," she said by way of greeting, once she had reached the Glavnyan prince, "but I do love your outfit for the night." She tried her best at a wry grin, though she knew it would come out slightly stiff and/or forced, and that it would not reach her eyes. "We match."

Isabella was conscious of her lilting accent, with the long, drawn-out r's, the soft s's, and the vowels just a tad too breathy, though she supposed that there was nothing that could be done about it at the moment. It is still easier than listening to the Castilyan lilt, though, she thought to herself with a twinge of disdain. Is there a particular reason why they refuse to pronounce the “s” sound? It's quite...irritating.

(Interacting with @MorningStar1399)

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

@Eric Horst yo sorry random but do u plan on posting for Elijah to reply to @polyatomicbeing anytime soon? I was considering having one of my chars maybe cut in but I don’t want to get in the way!

Also merry Christmas @ all!!

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

Hi friends I know this is a bit early but thoughts on starting next event at the end of this week?? Or maybe the weekend

Also merry Xmas eve to those who celebrate it!

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

psa tomorrow (today technically) i will be starting fam vacation and not home until like the 30th; i will still be around but just slower to reply

loving all the posts so far you guys <3