shylarah

Drawing Characters!

@Mae Aww, you're still planning on drawing things? Oh gods, my references are so old half of them are not where they were anymore! I'm honestly fine with whatever inspires you, but I should probably give you updated links. *flails around* Let me know who you need when you're ready for them, and I'll get them updated for you...though I think I fixed them all.

(Thank you)

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

It was a Saturday, the first since young Walter had started helping his brother Finnegan at the perfume shop. Lady Alyssana Grey decided that she could take a break from grading papers and worrying about the string of vanished urchins long enough for a visit.

It was a lovely spring afternoon, a nice break from the week of rain that had just passed, and instead of walking across town Alyssana fetched her wings from the cabinet that held them. Once she had them in hand it was an easy matter to use her machine empathy to guide them to the sockets on her back, after undoing the three small buttons that held the flap in her blouse shut. The metal connected with a brief tingle of energy, and as she rolled her shoulders her wings responded in kind, metal feathers sliding to their ready position. within moments her wings had tripled in apparent size, and she was ready to take to the air.

Her home was three stories above a bookshop, and she had easy access to the roof from her upstairs parlor. The moment of weightlessness before her wings caught her and carried her aloft was a tiny freedom, and quietly exhilarating. Alyssana watched the world fall away below her, the streets and alleys, the clustered buildings, the patches of greenery with flowers blooming, and let the view push her concerns aside, at least for the duration of her flight.

All too soon she spotted Finnegan's perfumery, and spiraled down carefully to a lower altitude before committing to a shallow dive that set her down at the entryway. The city was not really built for fliers, though those with wings learned to navigate the narrower streets or else stuck to the open areas and rooftops for their landings. Now firmly on the ground, Alyssana went around to the side entrance and knocked firmly upon the door. The shop might be closed, but Finnegan should be present, working on one thing or another. Hopefully his brother would still be about as well.

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

Valentine/Edelessa of Luxième

Prince Akio was trying so hard to be helpful, and yet he was hardly helping at all. He was right about looking after her cut, at least, though it took a few moments to work up her nerve and let him. While he did, Valentine fixed her gaze firmly on the ground in front of her. Her thoughts were a flurry of shame and self-recrimination, but at least they distracted her a little.

The arrival of an attendant brought her back into sharp focus. Prince Akio wanted to know who she'd be comfortable with. She wanted Anton, or Ianos, or Melissa, none of whom were really available -- and that assumed she could manage to communicate her desire. At least he's trying. And he's doing better than I am. Valentine sighed internally and held her hand out to Prince Akio again, feeling like she'd let everyone down. With a mental wrench she pulled herself away from that line of thought, though it lingered in the back of her mind.

The cut was a small one, somewhat deeper than a papercut but still superficial. Having Prince Akio fuss with it hurt a little, but that was a welcome distraction from her thoughts. She still hadn't managed to say anything to him. She really should fix that. Valentine took a deep breath, closing her eyes to focus better on the words.

"Th-thank you."

They came out wavery and quiet, but at least she'd said them.

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

Valentine/Edelessa of Luxième

Someone was talking to her. Anton? No, not Anton -- she couldn't rely on him here. Someone else. Her thoughts skittered over each other, insects thrown into chaos when someone overturned the log sheltering them. She made a strangled noise when someone grabbed her hand, and yanked it away. She couldn't let them find her. If they caught her, she was dead. She needed to hide, but she couldn't move. Couldn't run, couldn't think, could hardly breathe. When was the last time she'd inhaled?

Start with breathing.

It was hard to do, but Val made herself suck in some air. Someone was still trying to take her hand, and she tugged it free again, pulling it close to her chest. With the breath a shred of logic penetrated the haze of terror. She wasn't a child hiding in the palace ruins anymore. She shouldn't be in any danger. Emotion insisted, however, that if she took her back away from the wall they'd get her.

Where are you? Focus on the details.

A ballroom. There was a curtain near her, and glass doors leading outside beyond that. One of the wall held paintings. And someone was with her, someone in a green suit who kept trying to take her hand.

Her hand. She'd cut it. It wasn't even a deep cut, and she'd totally panicked. She'd managed to deal with worse -- but not while under so much stress. Reminding herself of that detail didn't make her feel any better, and she lowered her head so that she couldn't see Prince Akio's face at all. Finally some of what he was saying registered, and the offer of going outside earned him a small but earnest nod. She pulled her hand away again, but this time took the kerchief with it and used her other hand to put pressure on her cut fingers. She let Prince Akio lead her outside to a bench, but when he sat next to her she scooted away, squeezing herself against the arm and trying to make herself smaller. At least she wasn't crying, though she felt like she might start at any moment. She'd thoroughly botched the evening, and it had only just started.

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

Valentine/Edelessa of Luxième

Prince Akio chattered away at her, and it took all her focus to keep from just tuning out. Did he never stop? Or was he just making up for her inability to contribute to the conversation? ...Oh and now he thought she might be mute. What a wonderful way to start things off. She pried the hand not holding her champagne free of her purse strap and flicked a quick pair of fingers in the prince's general direction. If she wasn't so nervous she would have been red with shame.

'Nice to make your acquaintance'? What a laugh. She was a sham, a lie, destined to be a figurehead and probably unable to do even that right. Introduce him to people? And how was she supposed to do that, when she couldn't even manage a hello?! Prince Akio's attempts at conversation were only making her feel worse. She wanted to hide, or run, or...just go anywhere to be left alone.

Unfortunately, between the shame and the anxiety, she let herself grow careless. The first sign she'd done something wrong was the subtle snick that she felt in her fingers more than heard. She relaxed her grip at once, but it was too late, and only served to permit the severed base of the glass to fall in a slow arc of failure to land ringing like churchbells on the floor. It wasn't that loud, with the talking and the band, though she heard it clearly as it hit and shattered in pieces at her feet.

But that wasn't the worst of it. The pain across the middle of her fingers could only mean one thing, and she couldn't handle that. Not here. Not now. Val watched in mute horror as the hand that didn't seem to belong to her slowly uncurled, heedless of the other half of the glass it still held. Empty noise filled her ears; the color drained from her face; now she did lean against the wall behind her as she stared blankly at the drops of blood welling from where she'd cut herself on the edges of the glass.

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

Rhiannon Heledd Cadfael of Wales

Oh God, what had the prince of tradition-bound Britannia done this time? The thought and others like it shot through Rhia's head when she saw what could only be described as his entourage. Most of the visiting royalty had small, unobtrusive guards or servants. Prince Edwin Drakewine entered with a visual fanfare.

She wished, not for the first time, that she could deny any association with the Britannians. At least he provided her with a good excuse to approach the princess clad in full plate armor.

"Prince Edwin! I hope you had an easy flight over," Rhia told him with a polite smile. "And I don't believe I've met your partner in conversation. You must introduce me." As introductions were made in Edwin's loquacious style, Rhia turned a bright smile on Domitia. Now here's a lass that could keep me on my toes, she thought to herself, then quickly corrected herself. Not a lass, but rather -- what even was the gender-neutral equivalent? A thought for another time. "It's lovely to meet you," she said aloud. "I've heard a lot, but news and social media can only be trusted so far. I look forward to getting to know you in person." Rhia's expression turned sly, and her grin widened. "I have to say, you know how to make an impression. I'm guessing there's a significance behind your armor, but I have to say I do not know it. Would you tell me?"

The Plague Knight Chronicles: Chapter 1

@LordOfTheNight I'm still in, though I won't be posting reliably until next week.

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

Valentine/Edelessa of Luxième

Marriage. Betrothal. The words made Valentine shrink farther into herself. She wasn't even old enough to be married; her wedding wouldn't be for a couple years yet, and her coronation a year or so after that. She felt a flash of anger at having this engagement sprung on her, but she was too anxious to keep hold of the sharp clarity it brought. She didn't feel like a princess. She felt like an impostor, and a poor one at that.

Prince Akio talked a little about his home country, mentioning how the crown's inheritance was decided. It was an unusual method, though she wasn't sure if it would be better than primogeniture. Then again, anything would be better if it put her out of the running for the Luxemi throne.

Eventually he asked her about the party itself, a direct question that demanded some sort of response. Valentine tried to find her voice and failed. Instead of a verbal response she summoned a wan smile, though it came close to a grimace. An uncomfortable, sickly feeling curled in her gut. It probably was a nice party, but she was hardly in a state to appreciate it. She already wanted to leave.

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

@Briza As a note, those fancy letters aren't viewable on my kindle...or my old computer, which I will be using for the next week. m*settles in to read*

When Royalty Collides (#YIKES)

#ThatHat is go, repeat, #ThatHat is go.

Sparks: O.o