eclecticwitch

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

@HaleyTheRandom @Dirty Pretty Lies Doesn't it make her want it more tho?

The Five Senses

Uh oh, Turkey should know better than to talk about a woman's weight!!

✢ Affairs of the Court ✢

He patted the young, very pregnant hound on the head as he sat in a comfortable chair beside the fire. He was staying at one of the estates he owned in Veriton. A snifter of brandy was held in his other hand and a book lay open on his lap. He was already dressed and ready for the party. He had hoped to have an hour or so of solitude before all of the noise of a grand ball. Mars sipped the last of the alcohol from his glass and set it on the small table beside him. The tome soon followed. "I suppose I should be on my way then, huh Kimberly?" he asked of the beast. She merely stretched on her side with a groan, exposing her very full belly. Mars gave her one last scratch before he made his way to the door.

His valet stood ready with his deep blue jacket which would help darken his eyes to a pale, stormy blue. It also matched the gold brocade waistcoat he wore and stood out against pale cream pants. His long hair was fastened at the nape of his neck with a piece of leather to keep it from his well-defined face. The valet handed him his top hat and cane and with that Mars was ready to mingle.

Mars had been tempted to ride a horse to the palace but his valet had reminded him that women did not generally enjoy when their suitors smelled of the barn. He laughed, admitting the man was right and instead hired a carriage to take him to the gates. It was still quite early and only a handful of guests had arrived. Not even the queen regent and King had appeared. Tut! Were they taking a page from their Usamolian neighbors? Mars grabbed himself a glass of wine and set about talking to many familiar faces and being introduced to new ones. He laughed and charmed in only the way a man of his years could.

At long last, the Queen Regent arrived with all her fanfare. Not too long after so did the son. He greeted the King warmly, shaking his hand - surprised at this rather informal way of doing things. As a man who had experienced war and hardships, he could hardly say he minded though. Next to make a grand entrance were the First Prince of Ursamolia and the tiny Princess Vanya Parinaaz Myra. The princess had really outdone herself - all glitter and bells. And to even present the king with a tiger of all things! The girl knew how to get attention.

When the pair stepped away from the Royals, he made a bee-line for them. "Prince Rahman, Princess Pari!" he shouted in good humor. He was about the reach out for a handshake when he realized his mistake, considering where they were, he cleared his throat and bowed stiffly to the prince. "Greetings, royal highnesses," he said in a gruff and serious way. His face was turned into a scowl that would rival Rahman's. It did not last long before his usual boisterous smile returned. He heard Pari giggle and he took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. He had to bow low in order to reach the hand properly. "Lovely to see you as always, my darling."

"It is too good to see you as well. Too long, in fact. You make my heart weep in your absence." The young woman pouted at him but there was a playful touch to her lips and eyes.

"Had I known you were coming I would have put you both up in my house. Though I do not know how the hounds would have done with a tiger." He stayed for a little while to chat and catch up a bit when across the room the most elegant and gorgeous of scowls caught his eye. He paused his sentence, shook his head and turned back to the pair. "I beg you would forgive me. I have merely spied the most adorable and grumpy little strumpet. It is my sworn duty to go and bother such a cute frown. Prince Rahman, you should drop by the house sometime so we may talk of old times." He bowed, this one much more elegant than his joking formal one had been. "Peace be upon you," he said in Urso before making his way across the room.

On his way to the pretty, dark-haired snake, Mars acquired another glass of wine. He settled his face into a frown that matched hers and came to settle against the wall beside her. It first he said nothing, simply sipped his wine and glared much in the same way she did. Finally, after a couple of minutes of glaring and glowering, he said, "How many people do you suppose we can terrify into thinking we have cursed them by the end of the night?" The frown could not hold. Mars' lips spread into an open and congenial smile. "Honeycutt, at your service madam." He reached for her hand so that he could bow his tall frame over it and brush a kiss across her knuckles. "And may I ask the name of the enchanting lady here? And the man who causes her to frown, so that I may challenge his stupidity."

✢ Affairs of the Court ✢

Pari would be quite disappointed if she were on time. It would mean she would get lost in the crowd of people and then where would she be? Forgotten. A mere smear of color amongst the masses. She had come here to create alliances and perhaps find a potential partner. No, it would do much better to be late. Then all would see her come in, all her glory and beauty displayed before them. People would look and remember. Men would go to bed with her as the last thing on their minds. She came to make an impression.

This was why she had chosen a decadent outfit of red and gold dress with a long matching veil. Her jewelry was magnificent and only served to brighten the deep bronze of her flesh. A nose ring of a large hoop connected with decorative coins hanging from a chain to her ear. A large gold circle encrusted with a ruby hung over her part and emblazoned over her forehead. Her fingers were bejeweled with rings and both her ankles and wrists carried bangles and bells. Every step she took conveyed a soft jingling sound of musical quality. Not only would they see her, they would hear her. Despite all her finery she herself, in her magnificence and confidence, appeared to be worth more than all the gold that decorated her body.

It had taken her maids an hour to wash her body clean and apply scented oils of opium to her flesh giving her a deep, sexual scent. They had combed her hair and done it up in intricate and weaving braids around her head and down her back. The princess’ eyes were lined in kohl to accentuate them, but no more make-up was required for her already perfect looks. Her clothing and jewelry were placed with care. Three hours it took for the princess to look her absolute finest.

During this time, she had placed her first brother Rahman, for it would take him far less time and concertation to get ready, in charge of the tiger cub Lal - first son and only child of Pari’s closest friend and guard Lavanya. For, who better to keep safe a wild and exotic princess than a wild and exotic tiger? Unfortunately, Lavanya herself had to stay home for now. These people would have been terrified of her and she would have loathed staying cooped up in the inn.

She stepped from her room in the magnificent inn which specialized in entertaining foreign dignitaries. There were carpeted halls and a bath with hot water in every room for those that could afford it. The beds were lush and soft, and the serving people (notwithstanding her own excellent servants) polite and accommodating. Pari turned to her head maid with a furrowed brow and asked “To where has my brother gotten? He should have been waiting to meet me.”

The sound of heavy cursing drifted upward from the garden outside, the deep sonorous tones letting Pari know that Rahman was not happy. The specific words were indistinguishable, but a small yowl let her know that the tiger cub was causing trouble. She felt a moment of worry, not for her brother for the man could certainly care for himself, but for the tiny beast that had been left in his care. Rahman had endless patience for ambush, but very little when it came to anything else.

“Bloody feline…” The cursing ended at last and she could hear him muttering as he made his way up the stairs and into the carpeted hallway. He was wearing a black robe that fell to his feet, red trim neatly highlighting the edges. A white keffiyeh fell to his shoulder, held in place by a ring of gold inlaid with black obsidian and a single row of glittering stones. It was fancy dress for Rahman and he fidgeted with the golden belt about his waist. He glanced up as he crested the stairs and his dark features split into a broad smile as he laid eyes on her.

“Ah, little sister. You are as beautiful as a summer breeze.”

She smiled in return, glad to see him well after hearing his discomfort with Lal. “Darling brother, I hope the son of my heart gave you little trouble,” she spoke in a delightful and musical tone. “Where is the dear little one?” she inquired, coming close. Her hand rested upon his chest as another concerned look crossed her face. “Lavanya would so so sad to learn I lost her first son.” And so too would the King when his gift did not arrive, though she was sure he did not expect it. “You still have him?”

He could feel his heart quicken as she laid a hand on his chest and cupped her small face with one scarred hand, a thumb running gently across her lips. “I have not lost him, though he did attempt to escape, making the outer lawn before I ran him to ground.”

He lifted the edge of his robe to show a small series of frantic claw marks that had shredded the lowest hem. “He managed to defend himself with great honour.” He laughed. “I was certain you would be proud.”

She laughed lightly and nuzzled her cheek against his palm. “Oh, I am quite proud that he should prove himself to be all his upbringing should dictate.” She kissed her brother’s palm before looking about. “What have you done with my darling nephew?” He should now be in the basket to be brought forth by the slaves. “I hope you did not wound him.” She pouted delightfully and pressed herself close to her brother. “I would be most upset”

“Fear not,” he replied with a charming smile he shared with few, “I gave him up to those who would bring him to the party. He is kept safe in his basket crate.”

Pari glowed with glee as she threw her arms about her brother’s neck and nuzzled her cheek against him. “You have been most doting and adoring. Thank you for your part in this.” The princess kised his cheek before linking her arm through his. “It is likely well past time that we got to our destination.”

It was a delightfully short carriage ride from the delegate’s inn to the castle. More so for the servants holding the beast than the two royals. Her brother patiently listened to the young woman chatter about her hopes and expectations. He was surprisingly calm about her court chatter for a man who had spent most of his life upon the battlefield. Despite this rift in their upbringing, Pari had a knack for relating somethings in military terms. She understood quite well the sort of gentleman she should charm, after all. Her only hope was that she might catch a stupid one so that she might have a chance at rule. Pari knew, despite her wild ways, she could rule a kingdom from the shadows as her great mother had taught her.

Finally, they arrived at their destination. Rahman lead her from the carriage as any diligent brother might, but the looks on the servants faces at their late arrival made Pari scowl. “It is as if they were kept on the edge of a coin of punctuality,” she muttered in Urso. “Have they never experienced the dignified entrance of those of Usamolia?” While in many countries poignancy of arrival was a must, lateness for the sake of beauty was common among the Usamolie; a party always started an hour or two later than the appointed time. And a royal was always expected late. To see their underhanded glares made Pari huff. “Rakta,” she muttered beneath her breath as she was escorted inward by he brother.

She could feel the stale silence. All eyes were upon her as she had anticipated. She paused a mere moment to speak to a servant so that he may relay their entrance. At first he was hesitant, but Pari removed herself from her brother to bring one hand to the man’s chest and the other to the back of his neck as she muttered in his ear. He turned a light red, though she spoke nothing more than her request. It was the mre proximity of her touch that had him bothered - though in her world such touch was meaningless.

The red flush vanished the moment the servant met the gaze of her brothers dark face, so unusual in this crowd of pale ones. His features shone like polished ebony in the light of the room , the candlelight flashing off his gold crown. He towered above her, eyes probing the room, taking in the faces, the glances, judging and searching for others in the crowd. He recognized more than a few and was pleased to see a number of attractive women present. There were several pale ones in his harem but none worthy of making a wife.

The servant scurried his way to the King and the Queen Regent before introducing the pair to the room. Arm in arm the siblings arrived before the royalty of Veritron. Pari carried herself with aplomb to the end of the stage. With a graceful and theatrical curtsey, her body jingled and created a courteous invite to look.

“Your royal highnesses,” she said in a musical tone, “I thank you most graciously for your invitation to your grand ceremony. I look forward to meeting you and your most elegant and artistic peoples.” Pari stood tall, as much as a small woman could, and proud as she eyed the pair of rulers. “It is custom amongst my people to bring a gift to those that host us. From my country I bring you Lal, the first born son and only child of my dear Lavanya.” She held out a sweeping hand and a group of servants brought forth the basket which shook wildly with an angry low throated growl.

Once the lid was off, a young tiger cub of black with white stripes peeked his head over the top. “I do so hope you enjoy our gift. And if it pleases your majesty I would be thrilled to teach you the ways to upbring such a beast.” Once again Pari curtsied low before taking the young beast from her servant’s hands. The cub chuffed and snuggled against her neck, a familiar scent against many foreign ones. She placed the small creatures in the King of Veritron’s arms. She gave him her most regal and kindest of smiles before whispering, “I hope you find me soon,” and then returned to her sibling who had offered a stiff bow in his own fashion.

She hoped perhaps the King understood. She not only was giving him the first born but the first born son. This signified the sort of bed she and her people were willing to get into. Even if he chose her not as a wife but perhaps her brother as a confidant… Her intention was to create a grand relation. Would he see that?

Stranger in a Strange Land

Willa had not seen him approach. His low tone rolled over her with his single word. She looked up at him briefly and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "Morning Grumpy-pants," she responded. After all the antics of yesterday - the slap, the running, and the bleeding feet - all he had to say to her was 'human'? She gestured to the squirrel-like being that was roasting over the fire. "Hungry?" She didn't even know if the jerk actually ate anything. "Or did you need something?" Her tone was a bit huffy, annoyed that he would come in all this state to just stare her down.

Not waiting for a response she began to eat again. Who knew if he meant to chase her around her stupid paddock again. Or punish her for her misdeeds yesterday. It wasn't likely he was going to hurt her in any lasting way, considering his reaction to her bleeding feet. None the less, he made her nervous. She didn't know what he was thinking or wanted from her. He really hadn't had much of a chance to explain considering her reaction to things. She placed a bone from the squirrel leg with her neat little pile of fish bones that she would have to figure out how to take care of later. Probably bury them or something. Willa was beginning to feel like a cavewoman.

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

@Dirty Pretty Lies I'm all about getting Bea into trouble~

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

Frenchies!!!?¿? Yorkies???!!?? My heart is stopped~

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

@HaleyTheRandom puppies!???¡!!?! Squee!!! You take a rest gurl and send pics!!!!!

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

@HaleyTheRandom for shame that you should have a life beyond us. random internet people. you should only give us your full attention. how dare.

Blood's Jewels (Closed)

Fatima smoothed out the simple tunic she wore over tight leggings. Her feet were adorned in old, laced, knee high boots and her hair was released from the intricate bun to a simple braid over her left shoulder. It was a look she had seen herself in hundreds of times but now seemed foreign due to her living with her mother for so long. It was comfortable. She had forgotten how free and light clothing could be. Lifting her pack over her shoulders she exited her rooms to find Beneth and Jassen waiting for her.

She could tell from their stern expressions that they did not think this was a good idea. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if perhaps Jassen regretted bringing up the tangled web. Perhaps she should forget the whole thing and stick it out with her people. No. She would not be stopped. The tiny woman inclined her head to both men. “Shall we be off gentlemen?” Fatima did not wait for a response. Instead, she walked down and out of the house to where the trio could catch the Winds.

--

The place she stopped was within Chaillot. A few miles off would be a small town, but Fatima did not stop here for the town. She was looking for the man who stayed beside the road. Sometimes he wandered off, but mostly he liked to just watch the people pass. She walked away from where the town would be, keeping her eyes keen to spot any sign of him.

It did not take long before she came over a small hill to see the scrawny man in tattered clothes leaning against a thick tree. Fatima happily approached him and plopped down next to the decrepit being. He was obviously starved with balding hair and missing teeth. He smiled dreamily at the Queen. “Oh, look who has paid me a visit. My little duckling,” he said in a sing song voice.

Fatima laughed lightly as she removed bread and water from her pack and handed them to the man. “I am so happy to see you are still here, Rhyne.” The man plucked at the bread and put some in his mouth before tossing some into the road. Anyone looking could tell this man had long ago become a part of the twisted kingdom. “I’m afraid I cannot stay long and am not here for fun.” Fatima’s tone relayed her true sadness at this.

“I thought as much. You’re not a little duck anymore, are you? A swan queen.” He raised a filthy hand and patted her cheek.

“Rhyne… do you know where I might find someone who can read the tangled web?” She leaned close and spoke in a whisper. The man chuckled in reply.

“Have you searched Arachna?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Well, well…. How about Askavi?” He tossed more bread at something invisible before sipping at the water.

“Askavi? With the Eyriens?” She was startled. “I don’t know that they’ll talk to me.” She rubbed a hand over a tired brow as she thought on this. Either she would do anything for her people or she would be a disappointment. “Alright. I’ll go.” She kissed the man’s cheek. “I do hope you will come to visit me sometime, Rhyne.”

“I always do,” he replied with a smile that hinted that he was beginning to walk further into the Twisted Kindgom after his brief brush with reality. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

------

They landed at the pad and Fatima took a moment to gather herself. Not only was she exhausted but she felt she was intruding. A nervousness rolled in her stomach as cold rain pelted the trio. She wrapped her cloak about herself and lifted the hood to cover her head. It was getting late in the day and as much as she loathed to admit it she needed a rest.

She leaned heavily on Beneth as they made their way to the nearest tavern. The inside was warm and welcoming, and she allowed the warlord prince to find her a seat near the fire. She had no idea what she was doing. It wasn’t as if she could just start asking people about the Black Widow. That was a good way to get dead. She leaned back in her chair as a mug of something cold and frothy as pushed into her hands. She accepted the drink from Jassen and sipped the hoppy beer with delight. It was delicious and warmed her cheeks.

Fatima figured she would likely have to do as she had done in the old times. Listen. Bide her time. And wait for the right information to reach her. She was in Askavi. This was just the beginning of their trail. She hoped the search would not take long. For the first time in her life she was desperately missing her land.