Recent Statuses

13 hrs ago
Current Off to visit family tomorrow, won't be back home for a few days so I'm unlikely to get any responses written until the end of the week.
5 days ago
It's true, but I'm conflicted. Do I try to solve it and end it's mockery, and thus risk having my soul torn apart? Or do I just suffer hellish torment from it forever more?
1 like
5 days ago
I made the mistake of mixing up my Lament Configuration and now it's just sat here, mocking me.
7 days ago
One more roleplay and I will have caught up with them all. Ah, such a good feeling.
8 days ago
Very nearly accidentally posted a RP response in someone else's 1x1 search thread. That would have been awkward.


Malice [mal-is] - noun -
  • Just your friendly neighbourhood goth
  • A drinker of obscene quantities of gin

British // Mid-twenties // Protector of Guinea Pigs
[[Death Academic :: Dead Inside]]

  • Casual/Advanced Roleplayer
  • 10+ years experience
  • Plays M, F and NB (plus all pairings)
  • Likes dark, gritty fantasy
  • Also likes dumb, supernatural comedy
  • Dislikes having character traits dictated (e.g., must play dom/M)
  • Romance not necessary
  • Hit me up (or don't)

Most Recent Posts

Just posting to signify interest (again). I'm away for a couple of days as of tomorrow, so if I don't get a CS submitted tomorrow then I should hopefully get one to you by Friday! ^_^
This definitely has my interest! Do you want us to submit CS now or when this is more established?
There was something endearing abut watching the elf’s curiosity surrounding the car and August could feel a smile forming on his lips. Her inquisitiveness was charming to behold.

Perhaps this will not be too painful to endure, August could not help but think to himself. Although they had barely met, already the elf, Lyra, was defying his expectations. Back in his Kingdom the rumours of the elves were of hideously blood thirsty beings, crazed with a lust for arcane power. Indeed, from what August himself had witnessed on the battlefield, elves capable of cruelty and torment. Subconsciously he flexed the fingers of his right hand, he false hand, as he always did when thinking of the more brutal side of warfare. He had opted to wear finely tailored, leather gloves for this meeting, as he always did for formal, public appearances, for he was oddly self-conscious of the prosthetic around all but his army comrades.

Of course, for all the trauma the elves had caused, both his Kingdom, his people and even himself, August knew that humans were far from faultless. August had killed and killed and been maimed in the process.

Such was the reality of war.

Lyra jumped back from the car in surprise and into the prince. Instinctively, August caught her in hands, steadying her. A soft laugh escaped his lips; it was not cruel or mocking but genuine and affable.

“Fear not, Lady Lyra. I can assure you it will not bite.” August said, still smiling. “It is another advantage that cars have over horses.” From the corner of his eye, August could see his father confirming as much to the elven King, putting the other man at ease with the fact the Lyra, indeed, was in no danger by examining the vehicle. The last thing either Kingdom needed was their heirs to be placed in, real or perceived, peril and King William, diplomatic as ever, assured the other monarch that the humans were keeping their end of the peace treaty. There were no tricks here.

“Aye, I have a car much like this back home at the palace. It has been arranged to have it delivered later in the week; for we wanted to focus on moving in now.” It was a half-truth; King William had also prevented the car from being sent earlier so as to effectively force August to spend time with his future bride, to remove any temptation to set off and disappear for hours on end.

It is not to say that August was at risk of running from his duties, for he would not; the peace between the Kingdoms would be cemented by this marriage and the Kingdom of Anjou came before all else. That was the reality of being prince; it was not a simple life of luxury, but a political and diplomatic game he had to play whether he desired to or not.

“No, it is not broken.” August stepped over, so he was stood next to Lyra at the boot of the car. He placed his good hand on the metal, fingers accidentally brushing against the elf’s. “Allow me to show you. Driver!” The prince called, rapping his knuckles against the side of the car; the sound had an unusual ring to it as, despite the covering of leather, metal fingers hit the car.

The boot sprung open, as from his seat within the driver unlocked it. August pushed the lid up, revealing the inside to have leather suitcases and other possessions that the prince was brining to his new home.

“What you feel quivering beneath your fingers is the engine, which is houses in the front. This end, however, is left empty and used for storage. Which, ah, reminds me,” August leant into the boot, unclipping one of the suitcases and rifling through its contents. “Here. If I might be so bold, this was to be given to you closer to our wedding day but… I think I would like you to have it now.”

August produced a small box, which fitted neatly into one palm, presenting it to the princess. Inside was an ornate object; hung on a chain, a disc that was decorated with three dimensional dragonflies, their wings carefully wrought. The prince turned a dial on the side of the disc, and, with a soft whirr, the dragonflies seemingly came to life, wings fluttering as they danced across the surface, moving to reveal the face of a dainty timepiece that their mechanical bodies had previously covered.

“It is a… Peace offering.” August spoke softly, so as their fathers could not hear them, as if his words were a secret just for the two of them, “Not between Anjou and Nephalm, but between a husband and his wife.”
I think I have space for one more.

(Read: I have an odd number of roleplays and I do not like this.)

The greeting between Kings seemed more in keeping with the peace than the interactions between the eldest children. But then, the sacrifice of the Kings’ was far less; although they were both entrusting their blood, their heir, to live with who, until recently, had been the enemy, it was not they who would have to endure the huge change in lifestyle, the uncertain future. The, quite potentially, unhappy marriage borne from political necessity rather than love.

“Lyra? That’s a beautiful name, for an equally beautiful woman,” August spoke in an easy tone with a soft smile, giving the perfect impression of a man content and assured with the situation; everything he was not, deep down inside. But for now, at least while he and his bride to be were in the company of their Kings, August maintained the air of easy confidence and gentle nobility; the perfectly perfected persona of ‘prince’. “Please, call me August.”

The prince noted that the princess was, indeed, beautiful, just as he had said. Blonde hair and sapphire eyes; she was bright where he was dark, her eyes were bold where his were clouded. And yet he saw something there, hidden behind those vivid eyes, something deeply familiar and heart breakingly sombre.

Lyra was as much a victim of the war as August was.

“Hmm?” August looked over his shoulder at the car he, his father and their driver had arrived in. It was such a commonplace vehicle in Anjou, it had never even occurred to him that there were still people in the world who would not recognise what one was. “Oh, it is a car my Lady Lyra.” August said, returning his attention back to the princess. “It does not need horses or any animal to pull it; inside is an engine, which burns fuel to create movement,” August gestured to bonnet of the car. “In Anjou they have largely replaced carriages such as your own, for we find that they are both faster and more reliable that horses.”

August cast a sideways glance at his father in contemplation, before continuing.

“Perhaps I could take you for a drive some time, if it pleases you?” August noticed a slight change in his father’s expression at his words; minor enough that anyone else, anyone who was not family, might not register as displeasure. The prince was not meant to be having fun; this was a political matter and the peace of the kingdoms was at stake.

But August would be damned if he didn’t at least try to make his situation bearable, at least try to have a marriage that was not built on animosity and resentment.
August looked out of the window of the vehicle, watching the scenery flash by in blurred streaks of green, mimicking an impressionist painting. Just like the world outside, the prince’s mind was buzzing, unable to settle on a single train of thought.

Am I doing the right thing?
Will they honour their agreement?
Will this bring peace?

So much of his internal monologue placed the kingdom before his own feelings, but every now and then,
What does my future hold?

August’s life was so full of uncertainty. Sure, war time had never been predictable, with each day claiming so many lives, with the advantage changing like the wind, but August knew war time. He knew how his people banded together, he knew how, even in moments of laughter, fear and death hung over them like an ominous cloud.

Now? August did not know anything. He felt his whole world had been torn asunder.

But they were entering a time of peace (supposedly), and for that August was grateful, even if securing it came at a personal sacrifice.

Anjou before Angevin.

“August.” The king, who sat next to his son, intoned in a commanding, but not unfriendly, voice. “We have nearly arrived.”

August blinked, turning look at his father, broken from his thoughts by the older man’s words. Sitting up straighter, August craned his neck in an attempt to see out of the front window of the car, but from his position in the back seat he could not make out much.

“Your Majesty, it would appear that the elves have already arrived,” the driver stated, catching the king’s eye in the rear-view mirror. The king simply nodded.

Soon enough the car rolled to a gentle stop outside of a two-storey building that was an odd patchwork of designs in an attempt to symbolise the unity between the kingdoms of magic and technology. Sure enough, as the driver had mentioned, already an old-fashioned carriage had pulled up in front of the building, and four strangers, who could only be the members of the Nephalm royal family and their servants.

The driver was the first to exist the car; first opening the door for the king, and then for the prince.

August was dressed in clothes that many in Anjou would have consider too modest for a man of his standing; dark trousers, knee high boots with silver accents, a brocade waistcoat in the same shade of navy as his hair buttoned over an off-white shirt, finished with an inky coloured, formal looking jacket.

“Presenting His Royal Majesty, King William of Anjou, and his son, the Crown Prince, August Angevin.” The driver announced, with a deep bow to the elven king and princess. King William stepped forward to shake the other king’s hand by way of greeting, while August gave his attention to the princess.

“Your highness,” August said with an elegant bow and a tone of perfectly rehearsed diplomacy, “it is a pleasure to make you acquantaince.”

Age: 28
Hair Color: Navy (August's great grandfather had his DNA altered for the unnatural hue, making it natural for his descendants; it has now become a symbol of Angevin royaly)
Eye Color: Heather
Height: 6’2” – 188 cm
Weight: 215lb – 97.5 kg
Build: Muscular
Birthday: August 16th
Astrology Sign: Leo
Blood Type: O

⋆ Leader ⋆ Diplomatic ⋆ Loyal ⋆ Patient ⋆ Secretive

Prince August Angevin is the only child to the King and Queen of Anjou. Many years ago, Anjou found itself bound in war with the nearby region of Nephalm; as the humans lacked the mystic arts of the elves, the bloodshed prompted them to pour all of their resources in to technology. The kingdom went through an industrial revolution and soon their accomplishments (not just their weaponary and advances in medicine) were able to rival Naphalm's magic.

The war started long before August was born, so the recent call to peace means he is to live in a time withough fighting for the first time. Although the Crown Prince and heir to the throne, August felt it was his duty to aid his country on the battlefields rather than parliament. August enlisted as soon as he was able enough and, over the years found himself promoted to Major.

Back in the early days of August's career as a solider, his platoon was ambushed. Many soldiers lost their lives and those that did not were badly wounded. August lost his right arm in the attack, which has since been replaced with a prosthetic of the highest grade. For the most part, August's new arm looks and functions much like its biological counterpart, but it made of a dark grey metal.

When the peace treaty was signed, August felt that it was his duty to protect his kindgom in any way possible, so gave no objections to the notion of his marrying Nephalm's princess. Although on a personal level, August has no desire to marry a stranger (the enemy at that), he understands that being royalty means putting his wants aside for the needs of the kingdom.
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