Avatar of Inertia

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Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Current Well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions.
7 likes
4 yrs ago
She knocked that smug look off my face but luckily I was wearing a second, smaller smug look underneath.
9 likes
6 yrs ago
There's nothing more intoxicating than the clear absence of a penis.
4 likes
7 yrs ago
Half of Blink 182 is Wink 91.
8 likes
8 yrs ago
A Freudian Slip is when you mean one thing but fuck your mother.
3 likes

Bio







"I like it when the center is wet."


"You're the biggest bitch I know, but you're funny sometimes, so it's okay."
Friend of mine









Most Recent Posts





Attire: Tunic
Interaction(s): Wystan Blackmane @mantou, Anastasia Danrose @princess, Callum Danrose @Helo
Mention(s):

Although Auguste said they were to go to the duelling event, it was much later in the day. He still was to attend the meeting with the kingdom's noblewomen. A short nap was in order, if to make himself look even a smidge more presentable. He glanced at the mirror in his office, his features definitely denoted a lack of sleep. He sighed, massaging the slightly darkening circles under his eyes. It did not help that he also didn't sleep much two nights ago.

Before that however, Auguste excused himself to Wystan and stepped out of his office. The prince greeted the workers that passed him, thanking them for their hard work last night. He was looking for his younger siblings. While he wasn't there for the meeting, he had a general idea of what likely went down in that meeting.

Auguste found his younger siblings in-front of Anastasia's room. The two were appeared to be conversing. He caught the tail-end of their conversation, with Anastsia assuring Callum that she was his sister. A heartwarming sight that tugged at his lips. He approached the two.

“Anastasia, Callum.” Auguste called out, his expression a tad grim with a hint of exhaustion. It seemed like he had a few choice words to say to his two rambunctious siblings but that couldn't be further from the truth. A moment's silence nestled into the atmosphere before he spoke, “... I am sure Mother, Father, and Brother have given you both enough punishment.”

The two would find themselves engulfed in a tight hug. “I'm so glad you two are safe.” Auguste whispered in a choked voice, “Do whatever you want... just be safe, okay? Know that I will always be by your side. I will always try my best to help you two because you are my beloved siblings, worth be damned.”

The fear of losing his siblings grasped his mind, including Anastasia's kidnapping and Callum's forray into magic. It didn't matter to him as long as they came back home alive.

Auguste lingered in the embrace for another silent moment before he loosened his grip and straightened himself. “Excuse me. I'll be going back to my office to take a short nap before the meeting this morning with the noble women. If you need anything, you know where to find me or Wystan.”

Auguste made his way back into his office, asking a maid to wake him up some 30 minutes before the meeting with noble women. Wystan still sat diligently on the chair in-front of his desk. “I'm going to take a short nap, Wystan.” Auguste stated, “Get some rest too, even a twenty minute nap will help with lack of sleep.” He drew the curtains in his office and laid flat on the couch in the corner of his office. Knowing Wystan and his worries... “I am sure no one will assassinate a prince in his sleep.” He chuckled darkly.
Victor Crowe


“No problem, just follow me.” Victor returned a smile, “Place is like a maze. I was lost the first few weeks I was acquainted to this place, so don't worry about it.”

“Well, that title is a bit of a mouthhful, ain't it. Just call me Victor, or anything remotely close to it, I'll probably respond.” He continued through the halls. “Well, if I remember you controlled more schools of magic than I can. So you'd technically be higher on the totem pole than me, Witch Catherine.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to dodge your question...” Victor paused for a moment's consideration. “I guess all I can hope is to be able to properly help the coven despite being a Warlock and fulfill my obligations. Or atleast try my best to, right?” Such practiced words almost got a chuckle out of Victor. Perhaps years of his mother's influence had changed him more then he thought it did.

There were a few changes within the mansion, but thankfully it was still familiar. A few paintings were changed, furniture shifted, and some lighting fixtures changed, but it still felt very much like 'home'. Victor ran his hand through his hair as he spotted familiar figures. It was Carlise and ElĂ­as.

“Good to see you two are well.” Victor called out to the two. He turned and motioned towards Catherine. “This is-” He noticed that she had fallen a bit behind, admiring the interior design and architecture. “er- This is Catherine Hierich.”
Victor Crowe

Victor groaned into his pillow as the ever-familiar, rhythmic beeping of his alarm resounded in his room. 7:30 AM. He had recently moved back into his family home in Tanner. His parents would be arrive in a few days as they had some business to take care of, they didn't inform him of what- although he guessed it was related to his ever-obnoxious extended family; The Crowe's. Despite the excommunication, his extended family often called their parents for differing reasons. It irked Victor to no end, as he's had less than stellar experiences with them.

Willing himself out of bed, Victor began his routine. Preparing a small breakfast- eggs and toast, he began eating. He ate slowly, still attempting to will the sleepiness away. Victor then jumped into the shower to clean up. He wondered if the Coven had changed, or if it was more of the same. Well, atleast that curiosity will be satisfied today. Stepping out of the shower, he wore a dark leather jacket, a blue hoodie, and comfortable black jeans. An outfit he defaulted to in relatively casual settings. Hopefully the Coven hadn't embraced the trend of business attire in recent years.

Victor nonchalantly heated the coffee that turned tepid when he was lost in his thoughts. Oops, should avoid doing that around the other Coven members. With that he stretched, bones creaking and crackling. He made his way outside and took in the fresh air of Tanner. An oddly nostalgic feeling overtook him. He really was back.

A family friend had lent Victor his junker to drive to the Tanner Coven household. A beat up truck that looked like something out of a junkyard. He arrived and parked in the Tanner Household by 8:15 AM. Mid-drive he remembered that he was to be there by 11 AM. With a chuckle, Victor reclined his seat, opting to catch a few more hours of sleep he's missed out since he was born.



Victor's nap was broken when he heard footsteps making its way to the mansion. Good thing too, he might've overslept. It was about 9:45 AM. He locked his car behind him and lazily sauntered to the the front door, right behind the figure he now recognized as Catherine Heirich.

“Good to see you again Catherine.” Victor said with a yawn. He chuckled softly at her restrained knocking. “No need for that.” He pushed the doors open and entered the mansion. He looked back at her. “You coming?”

“Ah, right.” Victor recalled. “Is this your first time in the mansion? I can lead you and hand you off to Carlise so he could show you around.”
Gonna throw this in here and edit tomorrow if I find mistakes.





Attire: Tunic
Interaction(s): Wulfric Danrose @SilverPaw, Wystan Blackmane @mantou
Mention(s): Harper and Clive, rest of the party-goers.

To say last night was a disaster would be the understatement of the decade. A large number of the party attendants were rushed into their medical ward. Some form of concoction was taken en-masse causing a wonderful variety of effects. Although he wasn’t entirely blindsided by the occurrence. Clive had reached him whilst he conversed with Harper. It was a quick report, one that managed to anger him… Although he managed to keep his emotions in check.

As the nobility poured in, Auguste’s eyes trained on his siblings. His head throbbed, his mind relapsing to the day of Anastasia’s kidnapping. He followed Wulfric’s lead, and although a tad rough on Callum, Auguste could not blame his brother. ”Brother…” He started but stopped. Wulfric’s fury would remain unabated, in times like these it was best to give him space.

Auguste would spend his energy on assisting where needed and overseeing the ward, unable to sleep.

Auguste looked disheveled. Although not a stranger at carrying himself through exhaustion, a keen eye could tell the prince has barely had a wink of sleep. His eyes were sunken in, his countenance less refined and crafted, and a weak gait. Perhaps he managed a couple of minutes of sleep every other hour or so. He hadn’t left his office since assisting the medical ward.

Auguste wore the same linen attire as yesterday. He had fetched for a black tunic, laced with a golden thread. This tunic hung around his shoulders, as he contemplated last night’s events.

A clean plate and a finished cup of coffee… or three laid on the tray atop his desk. Auguste’s hand remained firmly on his temple. He worried deeply for his siblings and the other attendants. The biting worry of the political ramification of such an event lingered in the back of his mind, although assuredly, a lesser worry.

The biggest worry was who in their right mind would inebriate or poison nobility. While aware of such a party, he should have placed higher stock over that event. It could have cost him his siblings lives. Identification of the perpetrators was at the forefront of his mind.
Three rhythmic thumps sounded against his door. ”Come in.” The familiar figure of Wystan entered his office. Auguste greeted him with a short, tired smile. An unintentional, barely restrained expression of fury now masked his features. ”Although I have received a preliminary report… What the hell happened last night, Wystan?”
Wulfric & Auguste

Mentions: @Potter Persephone, @Helo Callum, Anastasia



Left alone in the meeting room, Wulfric paced for a minute or two. If it hadn’t been for father discovering the after-party affair, and bringing it to attention so soon…he would have likely urged the investigators to make haste compiling and inspecting evidence of Violet’s murder. Then again, he now knew for certain some shahzade and shezhadi had been roped into Callum and Anastasia’s unwise scheme. That was concerning enough to tend to sooner rather than later.

His thoughts were interrupted by a guard arriving – the one he’d ordered to come make a report on the night’s patrols. Wulfric got a brief overview of the guards’ movements south of the castle between nine and ten. As expected, until the body’s discovery by Dr. Williamson, nothing and no one of particular note had been seen. Wulfric dismissed the guard back to his duties, then informed select servants where he would be relocating, so as to ensure those who needed to would find him easily.

Arrangements made, he grabbed the map, his notes from the previous meeting, and Calbert’s sketch of the suspect, and promptly made his way to Auguste’s office. He knocked once against the wooden door, then let himself in.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Auguste, but we’ve urgent matters to discuss.” The office was familiar; the two had visited each other in their studies on numerous occasions.

Auguste looked up from his documents as Wulfric entered his office, his tired eyes meeting his brother’s own. A smile met his brother all the same.

“Father has discovered the existence of the after party – via a missing carriage, of all things,” Wulfric’s tone revealed how ridiculously obvious he thought their younger siblings had been. “According to him, the Sultan’s children and some others were led elsewhere by Callum. I offered to handle the matter, but he did mention he would have someone find them.” He gave his brother a small, lopsided smirk. Auguste and he were aware of the general area of the party, and had had Wystan follow there. With the king busy obtaining information they already possessed, the two of them could talk in peace.

Auguste sighed, taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. Callum. He thought wearily yet unsurprised. “My, it seems like father has caught up with what we know so far.” He stretched his hand to shake off the stiffness. Wulfric had that look about him that he had more to discuss. “... It appears you have more to say.”

“Yes,” Wulfric sighed. “Perhaps we should send backup for Wystan first,” he suggested. “As for the other situation at hand…” the eldest brother faced his younger one with a grave expression. “Violet Damien was murdered,” he announced, and let a moment pass for the information to set in.

“We can send for Harper and a knight to escort her.” The situation seemed dire if Wystan required backup. He looked at his brother’s grave countenance before continuing. “... Perhaps it’s best I set off after this meeting?”

Auguste’s eyes widened at Wulfric’s final words. “Violet… murdered?” He sunk back into his seat to take in the words. A murder occurring under the Danroses’ vigil? Right after their event? The Damien family... Although he may not personally like Count Damien, a loss of their family is a piteous occasion. A mix of pity and indignation swirled within the Auguste. Pity for the Damien family and indignation at the fact that someone would murder someone so close to the Royal castle and get away with it.

Auguste quickly recomposed himself. The tiredness in his eyes disappeared, instead replaced with focus and zeal.

When Auguste was ready to proceed, Wulfric motioned for him to clear the desk. Then, he set the items he’d brought with him on it. He tapped the sketch of the blonde woman which he’d placed on top. “She is the one concrete lead we have, so please, whatever you know…” he cajoled, because he did expect Auguste to offer some resistance when it was an acquaintance of his who was indicated as a potential suspect.

Persephone, the young lady he danced with and offered food to. Although he was merely acquainted with her, she did not seem the type to murder in cold blood. Looks could certainly be deceiving, but he would trust his own gut… unless further evidence implicated her as the murderer. “Persephone, yes… I danced with her.” He tapped his finger on the sketch, “I do not know the young lady beyond that, however.”

Wulfric looked up sharply. “You know her name? That is helpful.”

Auguste paused, hesitant to relay this piece of information. Another moment of silence passed before he spoke, “I did indeed offer her access to the pantry for leftovers… although a servant was to accompany and watch her as she did so.” He tented his fingers. “Surely that would lessen suspicion on her?”

Wulfric finally took a seat across Auguste, nodding slowly. Not in agreement, but because he was restructuring the heretofore known information. “Count Damien had seen her with what he believed was bread stolen from the ball, and then found a piece of it right next to the body…Doctor Williamson saw someone who could have been her leaving the scene, though he wasn’t certain. I imagine it is likely that she was the one there, however…” he crossed one leg over the other, leaning back into the seat as he thought. He wasn’t certain how helpful it would be to reveal to his brother his own doubts as to whether this woman was the murderer.

“I will be frank with you,” he declared his decision. “There are some inconsistencies that leave much room for the murderer to be someone else. Yet, we must pursue her.” Wulfric considered it self-evident why; running away was indeed suspicious.

“Of course.” Auguste stole a glance at the sketch, “That would be the most sensible course of action.”

“You know…” Wulfric leaned on Auguste’s desk, a tight-lipped smile forming. “Count Damien did mention this woman had overheard a conversation between him and someone else. If you question her first, with your friendly face and approach - she may reveal what it is that Calbert would prefer to hide. And if she is the murderer, I wouldn’t be surprised if the implied promise of your backing would be enough to entice her to a confession,” he concluded, and settled back into his chair. What Wulfric didn’t mention was that if Auguste didn’t extract any information from her, someone else would, and on much less pleasant terms.

Auguste smiled at Wulfric's plan. “A cunning proposition, brother. One that almost satisfies both of our worries. Truly a mind geared for politics,” Auguste complimented. “You’re right. If anything, we’ve built a small rapport. There is a decent chance she confesses and if she does, best she does so whilst under our... direct supervision.”

“The most pressing matter - figuring out what sort of ordeal our siblings had dived into and secure both them and our guests safely.” he said in a matter-of-fact manner as he fiddled with his quill, “Actually, would you mind elaborating on why Wystan needed assistance?”

“Not assistance per se. But it might be faster than waiting for him to return, and I’d prefer to know who exactly is at the party and what state they are in as soon as possible. Though if you’d already ordered him to be expedient, then there is no need for anyone else. I do worry who all father sent to search for them, and what their orders are…” it was a factor he had no oversight of, which was both worrying and irksome.

Auguste waited for Wulfric's explanation before continuing. “Secondly, once we get in contact with Wystan again, we must use his… seedier connections to find Persephone.” Auguste said, “If she is on the run, they have the best chance of finding her faster than whomever Count Damien sends. It is also best we clue in Harper into this.”

“Ah, yes - but do not mention it was Violet who was murdered, or that this pertains to Calbert. There are only a few of us who are aware - father excluded.” Wulfric had just remembered that he’d not yet informed Auguste that the victim’s identity would not be announced. “While he wishes to conceal this for Crystal’s sake, I do not want the populace to panic, which they surely would if it was known that such a high-profile target was killed.”

Auguste nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, it is best we limit this knowledge to those within our circle of trust.” Calbert’s request was reasonable. Even if the Danroses had much to gain, he would block such a distasteful course of action; parading that a parent’s daughter had been murdered is much too much.

“I also believe we need to have a word with the servant who was to accompany her, they might’ve seen something… or perhaps they’re the spy-” he cut himself off, “No, no it would be treading into baseless conspiracy to lay such accusations.”

“Well, you can have that servant questioned,” Wulfric didn’t seem too concerned. “However, the body was discovered an hour after the ball, so I wouldn’t expect much from that line of inquiry.” He reached a hand out, and set the sketch of Persephone aside, revealing the marked map of Sorian and his notes underneath. “See?” he tapped at the documents. “These were the patrol routes…when the doctor found the body here,” he pointed at the x on the map, “the guards were around here,” he indicated another location fairly nearby. “And if you read through that,” he nodded at the notes, “you’ll notice we have scant facts.”

“Hmm. Considering the time-frame, you may be right regarding the servant.” Although his suspicions lessened, it may be best he still ask some questions to the servant if they had seen anything out of the ordinary as a precautionary measure.

Auguste read the notes and scanned the map, trailing the patrol route around the site of murder. Could it have been planned or a simple happenstance?

Wulfric gave Auguste a moment to go through the information. “Putting aside Persephone, what impression do you have of the murder? While I have ideas on the motive, I am unclear as to the method, whether the act was planned or not…or if we should take it as an indicator of greater underlying social unrest.”

“I would like to hear your thoughts on the motive first, brother.” Auguste eyed Wulfric expectantly. From the years he’s known Wulfric, his modus operandi revolved around logic and reasoning. Wulfric's relative objectivity was one he valued greatly.

“Very well,” Wulfric agreed. “The most obvious one to me is a deep grudge against Calbert Damien. I would wager he was the intended target of this attack rather than Violet.” With how reclusive she’d been, it was unlikely that she’d gained someone’s enmity to the point of them killing her for it. “So, someone who resents and hates the count,” he concluded.

“While Count Damien himself noted Persephone might desire vengeance against him - for having ‘confronted’ her for the spying and theft…” he tapped his fingers against the armrest. “It is unlikely, though not impossible, that she would come to harbour such animosity from a single meeting. I’d sooner say she ran because she was afraid,” Wulfric speculated.

“While I'm aware that Count Damien is not in the most stable emotional state given the circumstances, that is quite a reaching accusation.” Auguste sighed, brows creasing. Wulfric rolled a shoulder. “To quote the count, he was ‘admittedly harsh with the girl’ during their initial meeting.”

He closed his eyes, “Now, where was I…” then opened them after a short moment. “Ah, yes. If the murderer is not Persephone, it might be a person the count is unaware of. For one, I find it difficult to believe he would leave such an enemy lying around if he knew of them.” If it were him, Wulfric would prefer to remove such dangers, and suspected it was the same for Calbert. “For another, he would name them as a suspect - of course, he is yet to relay a full list of potential culprits,” he allowed. “But the others he did mention as suspicious were…Kazumin Nagasa, the storyteller, and Lord Roman Ravenwood,” his tone revealed he considered both dubious options.

“It seems more likely that this was happenstance than planned given how… haphazard this situation occurred.” Auguste replied. He raised a brow at the other two suspects. “It appears we truly have scant details and evidence.”

“If it is someone Calbert could not name, someone outside the sphere of his influence…someone confident that they would not be discovered…” Wulfric trailed off. Obviously, such a person would be hard for them to find as well.
“The second idea is a more speculative one, and likely giving the killer too much credit. However, it may be someone who detests nobility, and who wished to make a statement. If that is the case, we should be wary of the possibility of them acting again.”

“Certainly a possibility, especially given the current civil unrest within our kingdom,” Auguste agreed. “Though an odd and clumsy message to send to nobility.”

There was a lull of silence as Auguste gathered his thoughts. He let a few moments pass in thought before speaking. “I'm leaning more towards the likelihood of this being an extremely unfortunate happenstance.” He crossed his arms. “As you've stated, Violet was likely not the target. A warning to Count Damien… perhaps? Or a botched assassination.”

“A thing to consider, this would-be assassin's confidence to murder within vicinity of patrolling guards.” Auguste said, “Though they may have simply been lucky, is there a possibility that they knew the route of the patrolling guards? Being able to dodge the patrols is no easy feat.” Especially given how Auguste had personally rigorously trained the patrols. “Perhaps Violet was lured and murdered in a location the assassin knew no guards patrolled. Though… as you've said, this may be giving the assassin too much credit.”

“It is precisely because of how well-guarded that area is, and there being such mystery as to how the murder was committed that I was thinking it could have been planned. But as you said, it is not conclusive,” Wulfric gave his input.

“Speculations aside, given the scant details, further investigation is necessary.” Auguste concluded. There was very little to go off of.

“Indeed. That will be commenced tomorrow,” Wulfric folded an arm across his lap. “While we wait to receive word from Wystan…We can attain intelligence from sources closer at hand. I believe ascertaining the situation at the guest house is most critical. If any of those who’ve remained behind are already aware that something unusual is occurring…” he grimaced minutely.

“Sounds like a plan.” Auguste agreed as he rose from his seat. “Shall we?”

Wulfric tilted his head to the side, surprised. “Hmm? No, if we head there personally, that would be much too conspicuous. Let’s send someone.

“Ah, alright. We could do that.” Auguste said, scratching his cheek. It definitely was best to delegate the task to someone else. The duo were too conspicuous to be doing such tasks anyway.

After some time, the servant who had been sent had returned to the brothers. The dark-haired Bernadette stepped up to them, clearing her throat. There had been enough witnesses to get a decent report on what had occurred earlier tonight. “Your Highnesses. I have the story, I believe. Princess Anastasia came in earlier tonight and asked many to meet her at the stable. Shehzadi Nahir Kadir, Shehzadi Mayet Kadir, Shahzade Munir Kadir, Lady Zarai Lesdeman, Lord Roman Ravenwood and Lord Leo Smithwood. Shehzadi Layla Kadir was also invited, but she chose not to go. The Princess returned here to collect Prince Callum, then they all met at the stable…The stable boy, Darryn, is now missing.”

“She…she went into the guest house to invite them,” Wulfric put two fingers to his brow, and massaged his temple. It was as close to a facepalm as he would allow in a public setting. Did Anastasia not care at all if this expedition of hers was widely known? “Right. Does anyone over there seem concerned over their absence at the moment?”

“The servants. The Sultan is fast asleep and we are unsure where the Vizier is.” She replied curtly.

Auguste, once more, was found pinching the ridge of his nose. Anastasia. He should have predicted that she would either coral or assist their guests to this party. Between Violet’s murder and this ‘party’, tomorrow will be a hell of a day. “Other than Darryn, are any of the other servants unaccounted?”

As the servant nodded her head horizontally, the sound of a sword slowly unsheathing filled the room. Someone dressed in armor was leaning in the doorway. The sword was resheathed once she felt she had their attention. Swiftly, she pulled off her helmet, a deadly look in the queen’s eyes as she set them on those before her. She lifted her chin and glared down at the servant. “Leave.” Alibeth gave a slight head jerk and Bernadette hastily walked out past her. “I will be taking some men,” Alibeth announced coolly. After a pause, she added, “Your father told me everything.”

“Your Majesty.” The formal address felt appropriate given his mother’s demeanor. “We can arrange matters here for a smooth return,” Wulfric offered.

Auguste followed suit. “Your Majesty.” The prince had scant seen his mother like this, but when he did, there was little he could do to mollify her fury. He wished a silent ‘good luck’ to his siblings. “We will assist as required, mother.”

”Good. Have our medic chamber ready,” Alibeth told them. “You’ll both remain here.” She set the helmet back on her head. Whatever was going on, she did not care. Her children were out in some warehouse and she wasn’t coming home until she found them and dragged them there. As for anyone in her way… Perhaps that’s what she needed the medic chamber for. She withdrew from her spot in the doorway and made her departure without another word.

“As you command, mother.” Auguste replied. He let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding as soon as she left his office. He looked to Wulfric, “Shall we have the doctors notified?”

On the other hand, a small, proud smile graced Wulfric’s lips as he watched the queen depart. Now that was the kind of presence and decisiveness a leader should strive to. If only…He shook his head once, and turned to Auguste. “Yes. I suggest we find whoever thought it was wise to remain silent on the Alidasht’s involvement. If the Sultan decides that this time, proper recompense is needed…” he trailed off darkly. He would gladly see however many other heads roll if it meant that Callum and Anastasia were to be spared.

“Yes, I agree. Thinking of the ramifications gives me a headache.” Auguste let off another tired sigh, “Tomorrow will be a hell of a day.”
I'll also place tentative interest, the setting is dope.

Auguste & Saiya





Auguste was always up to any challenge… any competition lit a fire within him. Be it dancing, swordsmanship, or even a simple parlour game. Many would purposefully (and noticeably) lose to him either to avoid antagonizing royalty or to curry favour with him. Both annoyed the prince to different degrees, and he soon ‘ices’ the relationship to simple formality. It was a rarity to have others take him seriously and attempt their best, moreso to fragrantly state it to his face. It was why he had respect for Wystan’s style of combat, a true spectacle to behold.

A competitive gleam shone in Auguste’s eyes as he reignited his smile. ”Well, it remains to be seen, then?” He offered his hand out to her in a slight bow. Saiya took his hand as she offered a curtsy, having caught the look in his eyes and deciding that this dance was likely going to be quite fun.

”Don’t go thinking for a second I’m going to go easy on you either just because you’re a prince. I like to knock princes off their high horse.” She said teasingly to him, allowing even a slight flirtatious tone to enter her voice. She was feeling excitement for the challenge that lay ahead of her and she only hoped that she wouldn’t disappoint him.

The music began as the second dance was announced. ”I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Auguste replied, ”Being named as the Caesonian prince who managed to outdance an Alidashtian? Well, think of the stories and ballads.” A chuckle escaped his lips.

Auguste led the duo, the dance already made up in his mind- The Slow Foxtrot. He placed his right hand under her shoulder blades, his left hand enclosed her right. Three quick steps, with meticulous footwork. The beginning steps of his chosen dance. The steps alternated in speed- quick and slow. However, Auguste would purposefully speed up or slow down much quicker than the initial step. His small smile beamed at her as he did this.

Saiya was quick to follow his steps, taking only a moment to understand the dance he chose. Definitely a challenging dance, especially with how he decided to speed up and slow down at times, but a grin remained on her face as she kept in time with him. ”Very impressive, I wonder what would happen if I take over and do this?” She said with a smirk as she took control of the dance. She kept with a slow foxtrot for the time and led them into stepping in a tight circle, but half way through she paused for a beat then reversed the normal step.

Auguste’s eyes widened at her changing the pace of the dance and even taking the lead and turning him to a follower. It seemed that she truly kept her word. Were it not for his training as a prince for dancing and footwork, he likely would have stumbled. ”My, what a quick change. I’m impressed, truly.” He said, ”Although it is under unexpected situations that I…” He observed her movement and ascertained her intent and followed steps. ”Thrive.” Following her lead looked almost simple to observers, as if Saiya was the lead from the beginning. He bided his time, waiting for an opening, a simplistic step to overturn her control.

Auguste would soon find his quarry. He predicted her next step and took control once more. He unfurled their closed position and released his right hand to perform a fan exit. Next he would pull her with his left hand and place their combined hands over her left shoulder. In his mind had awaited what she would do from this position.

Saiya let out a small, surprised gasp as he took control once more, but she managed not to stumble. He pulled her back and she followed his lead until she was in a position with her back towards him and their arms across the front of her. She took a moment to pause there and grinned up at Auguste. ”You almost had me there, Prince.” She said to him as she decided on what her next move would be. ”Almost.” With that she spun out and away from him, keeping hold of his hand. She then changed up the steps as she moved back into position, closer than they originally were as she took up a rumba.

”I wonder if I’ve met my match with dancing?” She said as her hips swayed with the steps of the rumba.

”Truly so.” Auguste replied, noting the change of pace to Rumba. ”Perhaps it’s indeed me on the back foot.” He followed her steps once as he racked his mind for a dance he could potentially transition into to take back control. The duo danced around the couples, missing a few by mere inches as they were entranced by their own competition.

Auguste smiled, and bent backwards. Letting her catch his back so he could be pulled back up into another transition. This time, the steps were the ever-familiar Viannese waltz. The same dance he had taught Persephone. Although this time, turned up to eleven. He danced each step with flourish and speed, not leaving room for mistakes or hesitance. Saiya let out a small laugh of joy now, finding the continuation of switching dances increasingly fun. They seemed to be dancing circles around the other couples. She decided she’d back off for a little while and let him lead as she needed to make more conversation before this dance was over.

”Tell me, Your Grace, are all princes of Caesonia required to become so skilled in dance or are you unique?” She asked him, a grin on her face. ”It also has me questioning what else you’re skilled in as well?”

”It is indeed a sort of pre-requisite for princes. Although, I’ll say my brother Wulfric is fairly skilled.” Auguste said, ”While he’s no slouch, I daresay I could dance circles around him.”

”The art of dance bears passing similarities with another passion of mine.” He continued, a glint in his eye. ”I very much enjoy swordsmanship, as you may have heard.”

”Not many could follow my steps as easily as you, Lady Saiya. The only other one who could truly keep up is dear old Wystan.” Auguste complimented, ”I wasn’t holding back either, yet you still rose to the challenge.”

”Alidasht may well and truly hold the best dancers across our continents.” He slowed the tempo of their dance in-line with the music. He noticed that she still seemed energetic and followed his steps with the same speed and precision as when they started. ”What about yourself, Lady Saiya? Your steps signify you as an excellent dancer. Is that truly all?”

"I thank you for the compliment, Prince Auguste. Your own dancing has impressed me as well, though it makes sense knowing your love of swordsmanship." Saiya replied with a grin, though a part of her was increasingly intrigued by the skill of the other princes. It seemed she'd gotten quite lucky choosing Auguste to approach first.

"As for whether dancing is the only skill I hold, I can assure you it is not. There is far more than meets the eye with me. However…" She gave him a sly grin as she began to relax more into the dance, no longer feeling like they were in a competition and now feeling as if they'd transitioned merely into talking. "What fun would it be if I revealed everything about myself to you now? We have a whole season to learn about each other. Perhaps it could be another fun competition between us, since you seem to enjoy competition just as much as myself?"

"My, it appears my penchant for swordsmanship is well renowned across the seas." Auguste replied. "Well, I hope I may be able to witness Alidashtan skill with the blade with my own eyes."

”Truly so, we do indeed have an entire season to learn about each other, Caesonian, Varian, and Alidasht alike. Perhaps to the betterment of our kingdoms” Auguste smiled at the prospect. ”Perhaps you will see me sooner rather than later, as I may be attending the dinner the Sultan has planned with the Vikenas.”

The music began lulling to a stop. Auguste released their clasped forms. "It has been an honour." He performed a form-perfect bow. "I hope you enjoy the rest of the night Lady Saiya."

”I have a feeling that’s going to be quite an interesting dinner.” Saiya said with a small laugh, but there was a nervousness in her voice at the thought of it. She felt a little bad for the Duke as she had a feeling certain people would make the dinner as hellish as possible. ”The honor has been all mine, Prince Auguste.” She said as she dipped into a curtsy. ”I hope you do as well.” She said with a friendly smile before turning and taking her leave.
Tag(s): Lorelei @Tae




The Librarium sent Ixius off with a big smile, he didn't know that his masters could smile that wide. Ixius was unsure if they were happy that he would broaden his horizons... or that he was not their responsibility for at least a few years. "Learn well, young Ixius." The crimson-eyed boy narrowed his eyes at them, giving them a stern look. "Keep Arch-Magus Fallard's words in mind." After another moment passes, he sighs before stepping into the carriage. "I'll be sure to uphold the Librarium's reputation."

A few other Magus rode on the carriage with Ixius. Though some gave blank introductions, he replied with a perfunctory introduction before unclasping a tome. The only time his eyes were away from his tome were during his short bouts of sleep. The environment, buildings, atmosphere, society... not really interested him as much as the contents within the tome. Soon the other Magus' stopped attempting to converse with him, leaving him to read in peaceful bliss. Some recognized him due to his infamy within the Librarium. Not many would openly disrespect mercenary bands as he had.

The academy soon loomed over the horizon, the architecture and magic became more apparent as the carriage drew closer. The boy did look up from his tome, taking in the academy. It was clear that the head of the acedmy- Asmodius Hoseforn, had been with the Librarium. The currently known longest living human mage and a Magus' Librarium alumni. Some of the etchings felt familiar, yet alien to Ixius. The magic recognizable... yet unreadable. The magical aura held by the building was almost suffocating; so much so that even a non-magically inclined individual could feel the thrums of magic against the back of their head.

"Impressive..." Ixius mumbled to himself, stepping off the carriage. He would find himself abandoned by those in the carriage, as he had taken more than a few moments marveling at the building. A fellow student bumped into his shoulder causing him to careen to the floor. Luckily he caught himself before he could fall.

"... out of the way," The student scoffed before walking away and muttering to himself, "... Damned wizards."

Ixius looked indifferently at the brutish boy who was a few heads taller than him. Clearly a non-magic user looking at their oafish self. He didn't get to reply as the boy left as quickly as he appeared. Such expected behavior...

The processions would begin. The introductions of the teachers. All exuded a terrifying aura, even the non-magic teachers. Especially the one with the mask, Dex. The feast. The Magus ate quietly and quickly, a female student practically inhaling down the food made him lose his appetite quickly. He left the feast earlier than most.

The acceptance letter he fished out of his pockets turned into a map, guiding him to his sanctuary- his personal dorm. He found his room quickly, the doors clicked open as soon as he stood in-front of it. Ixius raised an eyebrow curiously, "Did it detect my magical signature?" He said, "For them to already know my magical signature... interesting."

"Welcome, Ixius Delthrane," A voice spoke up, "This will be your dorm room for the foreseeable future. There is a bathroom in the door to your right that you and your roommate may share if you do not wish to use the public baths. While sleeping in the dorm room is not strictly required, sleeping in any non sanctioned area of the school is forbidden and may result in disciplinary action."

"Understood. What shall I call you?"

"Athena is fine" The voice replied.

Ixius eyes shone curiously. Athena was quite something, even the acceptance letter had stringent counterfeit measures. He would pepper her with questions later on.

He took in the room- personal beds, study desks, dressers and shelves. His eyes drifted to his belongings, it was sent a week in advance by the Librarium, at the insistence of his mentor. It wasn't much, mostly just clothing, books and scrolls, and other miscellaneous knick-knacks. He had simplistic material possessions, not really seeing the need for fashion over practicality and comfort.

Ixius sauntered over to his table, unclasping the same tome he was reading on the carriage. A book about magical theory, 'Fundamentals of Rudimentary Teleportation'. He would unpack his belongings later.
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