SilverPaw

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: Click here Time: 9 am Location: Danrose Entrance Hall Interaction(s): @princess Anastasia Mention(s): @Helo Callum

Wulfric silently stood by his mother’s side as she made her speech. Her approach was largely similar to the one he’d thought best. But what finesse! The demanding concern, stern admonishments, the inducement of guilt, and her parental disappointment! And all genuine, yet used with such surgical precision… It was a joy and an honour to behold, though he kept the satisfied admiration well to himself. His bearing and expression matched the queen’s haughty severity, and he regarded the group in front of him coolly.

He wondered what gifts his mother would grant, but aside from ensuring their high quality, the items themselves did not matter all that much. The gesture itself would be enough to foster good will with the disgruntled nobles. The gift-giving was the only thing that had not intuitively come to mind when he’d initially considered how he would resolve this situation. Otherwise, the queen’s actions came as no surprise.

Indeed, from promising increased security, to allocating personal guards to their guests, apologizing to them for their oversight, and to finding some appropriate servant to blame, these were the very things Wulfric had suggested should be done to his father. However, he was quite content that the executor of these demands and reassurances was his mother. Certainly, Edin wouldn’t manage to handle this appropriately.

Speaking of the devil. His head turned at the door swinging open, and he beheld the entrance of his father. The old man was still winded. Without any thought whatsoever to his image or the significance of his words, Edin clearly meant to apologize for Callum. Wulfric’s eyes flashed in anger, but retained his façade of neutrality despite the sudden (yet brief) flare of loathing.

You. You instilled that damnable self-blame in him. The cause of his would-be martyring for this shitshow if you or Callum had it your way. It was so obvious – but only now, in retrospect. After all, his youngest brother had never seemed to care no matter how much his father had cursed and censured him before this; had in fact, took pride in it. Yet, their previous conversation revealed that, at least partially, Callum must have taken their father’s poisonous nonsense to heart.

Thankfully, the queen’s silent rebuke was enough for Edin to stop in his tracks. The king then silently went to his wife’s side, and Wulfric followed his movements with interest. So, you can be brought to heel. Tendrils of dark delight unfurled within his chest at the scene. It was quite the rare treat he’d just witnessed, there.

He’d barely spared a glance at the stable boy when he’d been brought in, and was supremely indifferent to his plight. It was only proper and sensible that he be executed, to be sure.

After letting a moment of silence ring after the queen pronounced her judgement of Darryn, Wulfric decided to pitch in. “If any of you,” he let his gaze pass from peer to peer, lingering a tad longer on the noble children of Caesonia, “has an inkling as to this event’s organizer, or if you wish to relay any other pertinent details, please do speak up.”

He briefly took in Callum, then finally settled on Anastasia. “Dear sister,” he began thoughtfully after a moment, as if something had just occurred to him. “You and our brother are rather familiar with various forms of…entertainment here in Sorian, are you not?” This was a rhetorical question. “Was this simply some random, mysterious party you were all invited to? Or could you perchance provide us with the name or names of any who might have hosted such a thing?” His tone was full of innocent curiosity as he tried catching Anastasia’s eyes.

Though he was taking a bit of a risk here, calling out his siblings that way, he believed his words and demeanour conveyed that he did not truly suspect or doubt them. No, it was instead a mere expression of his genuine belief that someone took advantage of them. Though he expressed not an ounce of his misgivings, Wulfric was privately skeptical they’d admit to anything. These two were still so trustingly naïve, after all…

Regardless of his inner reservations, however, he was now in the role of a concerned brother, and of a prince eager to learn more. All in aid of resolving this matter as swiftly and efficiently as possible.

Symphony of Espers

Jacqueline Leroux

Some idle chatter passed between her coworkers while they waited. Meanwhile, Jacqueline just stretched, the feelings of boredom at nothing happening just then and the anticipatory tension that something would warring inside her.

Then, Justin made his appearance, with two brainwashed espers at his side. Jacqueline glanced at the two women, but disregarded them for the moment. “How nice of you to show up,” she snarked, vicious smile stretching her lips. She was looking forward to erasing that smug look from his face, and hoped that his confidence meant he didn’t have a plan to run with his tail between the legs like he had last time.

When Justin tried to have them back down, or join him, she laughed. “Does that ever work for you? Or do you just love the sound of your voice so damn much?!” Possibly, he was also stalling, maybe for the Diver to show up? Or to distract them, maybe. Jacqueline eyed their respective positions, the buildings, the distance apart them…It’d be best if they lured their opponents to where they all were; a fight on the precinct’s roof was better than on the residential building’s.

She was distracted from her contemplation by Fable’s outburst. The kid really was motivated to bring down this monster. “That’s the spirit!” she cheered Fable on. “Just don’t forget to put more into your bite than your bark,” she joked, clearly not concerned that the child-esper’s fighting capabilities would be lessened – unlike the other agents, who encouraged him to calm down.

Orion’s and Silhouette’s words had her shaking her head. “As long as we bring him down,” she huffed. Then, Jacqueline got ready as well, gripping Havoc more firmly. She moved and shifted, positioning herself as she felt was best. She was about to start a melody, when someone else appeared at their enemy’s position, attempting an ambush.

Heh. I don’t know who you are, but thanks. If Justin was taken by surprise by this more than they were, they’d have a very neat advantage for the start of this fight. “Guys, let’s make use of this,” she urged quietly.

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28 | Female | Gemini Agents | Iron Dust
Havoc | Great Axe | Arcane | Pry
Eternal Knight | Perfectly polished
Forged Arsenal | Earth/Metal | Breakthrough
[Quake (2), Mass (2)] Damage X (6), AoE (2), Enhance (2), Powerful (0), Dispel (6), Zone (4), Pull (2), Restrain (4), Blink (4)

DAMAGE: B | SPEED: D | SENTINEL: D |750

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 750

Symphony of Espers

Jacqueline Leroux

Unlike some others, Jacqueline didn’t do have any special preparations she felt like doing for the upcoming fight. Didn’t call her parents, didn’t meet up with friends. She had begun that training with Rottweiler – Jean – as promised, but it’s not as if that counted for anything when they were against a monster.

A capital-m monster, actually. Jacqueline thought it was kind of early in her career to be facing down potentially world-ending threats.

Well, she wasn’t actually quite certain how extensive the scale of what this thing was gonna do was, but regardless, it was large enough to be difficult to imagine till she saw it go down. So, yeah, pretty fucking huge.

She made her way to the 11th precinct, all espered up, and saw several of her coworkers had arrived already. She didn’t even bother with an umbrella, and was already soaked. But compared to what’d come, who even cared? Torrential rain would be the least of any of their worries.

Jacqueline took in her fellow agents. Silhouette. Fable. Orion.

“Hey, you three,” she grinned at them. “Ready to take down the Holy Diver bastard?”

Blood & Ruin (A Fantasy Role-play) (M)

Maybe.

Symphony of Espers

BACKUP: Lifeblood Crystal

A small blood gem created by Lada. Shatters upon use. A creeping crimson vein-esque pattern forms upon Jacqueline’s esper form, both her body and her armour.

GRADE: Silver
BACKUP MELODY: [Silver Self][Stabilize][Heal][Delay][Reflect]
SPECIAL: There is power in blood. The MP cap limit of the melody raises by 10. This backup can also draw upon nearby human blood (injured enemy, fresh body) the very moment it is used to empower the melody, granting it a rank-up.

PR: Unchivalrous

Some extra stuff that hardly fits the ‘knightly’ theme, but then again, Jacqueline isn’t one to sweat the details. Survival is survival.

GRADE: Bronze
GEAR: Pistol, Molotov
SPECIAL: The gun is metal-silver and engraved, the Molotov is in an elegant dark gray glass bottle and produces haunting white flames.

Symphony of Espers

It took some doing. Jacqueline may have requested the blood mage’s assistance back at the assault on Justin’s mansion, but the tech wasn’t there to facilitate the request. Lada’s limited casting range and the lack of glamors to facilitate such a boon made attempting a blood based buff at the time unviable. Especially since the operation demanded success and allowing a former hostile that Jacky had personally hurt was seen as unwise by some. But things were different today. There were no mission parameters to contend with, and they could converse with Lada in a non-hostile environment. Even Better, Binky was back on duty. Fritzi would never humor such a request with her schedule, but now most of that was Binky’s problem, as was taking Jacqueline to see Lada.

The shipping elevator made its slow descent into the earth. The old reclaimed lab in Pax Septimus was near their headquarters, but was separated into an entirely different facility. Jacky hadn’t been told much about the place, but that was par the course for GEMINI. Everyone was on a need to know basis, and the only thing Jacqueline needed to know was where Lada was being held.

”Do you get tired of people telling you how tenacious you are?” Binky was wearing a lab coat with some GEMINI patches on it. It was similar to what Fritzi wore.

Jacqueline, on the other hand, was in one of her business suits. At Binky’s question, she chuckled. “No, I’m not the type to let that kind of passive-aggressive criticism get to me,” she retorted dryly.

”It’s not criticism!” Binky flailed her hands. ”I mean, some may view it as a negative, sure. But not me!”

Jacqueline smirked. “Don’t worry about it, I’d take it as a compliment even and especially if it weren’t meant that way. Still…thanks, darling,” she winked. After that brief bout of unprofessionalism, and flustering Binky, she leaned back against an elevator wall, and let the other woman redirect the conversation to the matter at hand.

”Right, better move on before you become Fritzi MK II.” With a cough, Binky regained her composure before explaining the situation. ”Lada’s arrangements have improved a bit since you showed her the butt of your war pick, but I wouldn’t put it past her to show you some hostility. She’s been moved into a visiting cell where you can communicate with each other. If you can convince her to bestow a blessing on you, we can move you two into a lab and more closely monitor what she’s doing. If everything goes well, you’ll be able to use her power in combat.” With a sigh, Binky shoved her hands into her pockets. ”Su wanted to come down here with you. I didn’t tell her anything, but she figured it out pretty quickly. She made me promise to make sure nothing bad happened. If you decide that this isn’t worth the risk or Lada’s too stubborn, I can take you back up.”

Jacqueline nodded along to the explanation, only half-listening. “Mmhm, got it,” she assured. “Really, I don’t know what you all are so worried about when she’s under this kind of security…”

”True, but in order for this to work, she’s going to have to cast her magic on you. We’ve been able to keep her away from magic circles for the time being, but you’ll more or less be at her mercy if the two of you decide to go through with this. I’d rather be too cautious than not cautious enough.” The elevator stopped with a rumble, and a pair of double doors opened up. Beyond them was an empty loading bay, and beyond that were the labs. Somewhere in that network of plexiglass shields and labcoats was what Jacqueline sought. Binky turned to look at her. ”Any questions? Got a strategy in mind? I don’t know many espers that would willingly subject themselves to a dark blessing. I’m, admittedly, kind of out of my element here.”

“No questions,” she replied shortly. When asked about her strategy, she put a hand to her chin thoughtfully. “You mean for what I want out of this? Something like what Arzendale did for that esper lackey of his. It looked to work pretty well for them, so I figured why not, you know. Might as well fight fire with fire…or something,” she shrugged, clearly not all that concerned about the potential risks or the morality of what they were doing.

”I see… Then I’ll just take you to her. You may wish to enter the esper state to hide your identity. If you care about that.” Binky knew that she didn’t.

For all the build up the labs got, they didn’t look particularly interesting. Even though they were supposedly synthesizing mana for magical experiments, it just looked like a bunch of scientists playing with beakers. Some were wearing hazmat-like suits as they walked in and out of tented rooms.

Binky opened the door and waved Jacqueline inside. The setup was very similar to a crime drama. There was a plexiglass-like barrier that split a countertop down the center. There was a phone in both halves of the room, but there was no way to dial anyone. Binky waited at the doorway while some armed guards were positioned on Lada’s side of the room. The level of security probably seemed excessive to Jacqueline, but not a surprise. Lada herself looked like she was doing pretty good. She was still bandaged all over, but there was a bit more luster to her appearance. Her hair was straight instead of messy. She was actually wearing a dress. Though she looked just as disgruntled as the last time they saw each other. Though that could have easily been attributed to a “resting bitch face” among other things. She picked up the phone on her side of the glass as soon as Jacqueline did the same.

”You are interested in blood magic.” Her russian accent was thick, but not to the point where Lada was hard to understand ”What do you want?”

Jacqueline sat down, polite smile in place. “Yes, that’s right,” she answered. “What I’d want, huh…Well, there was this vampire who used his blood magic on an esper on one of our missions. I’ve been curious if you could do something similar. Use your magic to give me a defensive boost, maybe a healing option in a pinch?” She shrugged. “I obviously don’t know what goes into this, so you’ll have to tell me if it can even work or not, then we can test it for the fine-tuning.” She paused for a moment. “If you agree to, of course.”

And it wasn’t like there was much reason not to. Jacqueline hadn’t been filled in on all the details, but she understood that Lada knew helping her would further benefit her in some way. ”Blood can heal. Blood can protect. You remember the fight, no? Can do, maybe.” She rubbed her chin. ”Why turn to me? Healing and protecting magic is not rare. Other ways to go about it.”

“That’s true,” Jacqueline hummed. “Some of it is a personal interest on my part, I guess…But also, there should be benefits to blood magic. Which you should know better than I. So if there are things that only you can do, feel free to clue me in.”

”The benefit is how easy it is to use with access to sacrifices. Every living creature has blood, no? All that matter anyway. ” Lada gave the agent a sideways glance. ”Jean has been obsessed with you since you fought.” She scoffed and shook her head. ”On and on about how your fight was interrupted by all the distractions. He says that we will not have a child, but he will have rematch one day. No magic, no distractions, just a duel.” Her hand caressed the side of her stomach. ”I think I can make spell that you like. If you agree to give Jean rematch, I make you spell. Deal?“

“Easy power…” It was still all too easy to remember how Arzendale had done it. A bunch of hostages, slaughtered for his magic. “It’s fine as long as it’s just me giving you some of my blood, or you getting incidental bodies like last time,” this referring to when Lada had exsanguinated recently dead Cobra gangers. “But just so we’re clear, I’m never going after someone just for this.” That much was probably obvious, but at the very least, Jacqueline wanted to make it clear that even though she, unlike pretty much any other Gemini agent, was interested in blood magic, she wouldn’t be going out of line with it.

Lada stared back at Jacqueline. Her scowl hadn’t deepened at all, but it hadn’t gone away either. ”And they say Russians are dramatic.” She waved her hand at the esper. ”I do not care if the blood comes from you, a cow, or a child. If it did not come from Jean I will help you. You must honor my request, that is all I want.”

Jacqueline then considered Lada’s proposal. “Jean,” she blinked. “Rottweiler, huh. Strange request, but sure,” she agreed easily. “He better be fine with me transforming, though, or it won’t be much of a fight,” she commented. She stood up, and stretched. She still held onto the receiver so Lada could hear the rest, but turned to Binky for her next idea. “Maybe give him access to some non-lethal gear if he wants it? Since I’m gonna go at him with Havoc.”

Before Binky could offer any input, Lada stood up. ”I was not clear.” She leaned on the counter. ”Jean is aware you are no match for him now. But he wants you to beat him one day. He has been looking for successor and would train you. He was impressed with how you handled weapon, but knew you would benefit from guidance in hand-to-hand combat.” She squinted her eyes. ”I do not understand that man, but that was what he wants.”

The green haired doctor placed a hand on her hip. ”Why did you say he wanted a duel first?”

”That how he worded it to me. He wanted a duel, after she was ready.” Lada avoided looking at anyone while she spoke.

Lada’s clarification started a bark of surprised laughter from Jacqueline. “Wow, you were saying about dramatic?”

”My Jean is not Russian. For better or for worse.”

Jacqueline shook her head, bemused. “Alright, I’ll let him train me till I can beat him. Deal,” she grinned, and would have offered a palm to shake if it weren’t for the plexiglass separating them.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Wulfric & Callum

_{Interactions: @princess Anastasia}

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The sound of rapid footsteps made the plump King sit up with a gasp. His head trembled and his eyes widened as he looked around the room until his gaze caught sight of the backside of his dark-haired, idiot son as he left the room. Poisoned my ass! That lying little SHIT!

“Caaalllummmm!” King Edin roared as he jumped to his feet and practically charged through the doorway.“Where do you think you’re going! GET BACK HERE!” He pummeled his way through the hallway after his son, knocking past staff members like a bull in a china shop. He was rambling to himself now, wasting his breath, “He’s fucking fine! I can’t believe I was concerned with the welfare of those two shitheads. I knew this was all his-...” He started to huff as he struggled to keep up the pace of his sprint, his knees starting to buckle. “All his fault… All of it. Somehow… I’ll find out how…”

He leaned on his knees in defeat. It was a wonder how his most pathetic child ended up being so athletic. “Oh-!” The sight of his brilliant, perfect eldest son was before him. Wulfric was peering down the hallway after Callum but had not seemed to notice him yet. Edin looked up at his son, telling him between pants, “Go.” He needed a moment to wheeze. “Get him. He’s …ESCAPING. He needs to go-” King Edin broke off in confusion for a moment and grabbed the arm of a maid walking by, “Where is my wife holding her meeting again?”

“Um, the Entrance Hall I think.”

“The entrance hall!” He exclaimed as he looked at Wulfric. The maid cringed at his loudness as he tossed his grip off her without much care.

Wulfric had just decided to pursue Callum (at a sedate walking pace, thank you very much) when the king himself blustered up the previously empty side of the corridor. His eyebrows rose as he turned to take in the sweaty, panting, red-faced old man. He felt amusement creep in, but ruthlessly suppressed it before the hilarity of the situation could get its grip on him. No, no, this is no time for laughter. With some effort, he kept up an entirely neutral mask of polite curiosity as he regarded Edin.

He let the gravity of the situation exert its influence upon him. He obeyed his father, and dashed.

What a ridiculous sight we must make. Despite the sardonic thought, Wulfric ignored the servants he passed by, and paid no mind to the fact that his current attire was not the most conducive to running. While the clothing was generally light and unobstructive, he had on more layers than he’d prefer. He had to keep one hand on his sheathed sword as he sprinted, and the cloak presented a not insignificant risk of tripping.

Despite Callum’s head start, however, Wulfric was confident he would catch up soon enough. He couldn’t have got far yet, and there’d be few places to hide, if that’s what the aim was. Besides, he would never lose to his youngest brother in a race.

Callum continued his mad sprint down the castle hallway. He almost stopped as he heard his name spoken by Wulfric but thought better of it. If it had been Auguste, his other brother might be willing to help him. But Wulfric, Cal expected no sympathy from the oldest, from his father’s clear favorite. He took heavy, ragged, breaths as he passed by his own bedroom, a far too obvious place to hide. Edin’s voice carried down the hallway and provided just enough extra dose of panic to keep Callum moving. He could hear more footsteps echoing in the corridor. Shit. Is Wulfric now chasing me too?

Cal crashed into the billiard room, not his first choice for a hiding spot but he’d make it work. In the corner of the room was an alcove that held a statue, and it was a tight squeeze that took some climbing on the statue but he managed to tuck himself behind said statue with his back to the wall of the alcove. He focused on calming his breath, leaning his back to the wall.

Tired, nauseous, lightheaded, and confused he tried again to remember what was going on. Why had he woken up in the medical ward? He had a terrible hangover, that was clear, but that was nothing new. Neither did it make sense for Edin to have been there waiting for him, surely today was not the day the old man decided to start caring how much he drank. What happened last night? Callum couldn’t even remember how he’d gotten home and thinking about it only made his head feel worse.

The sound of a door opening then slamming shut somewhere ahead of him brought Wulfric to a stop. So, hide and seek it is. But which room? He stalked the corridor, considering where to begin his search…but then, a much more expedient solution came to his attention. A nearby maid, doing her best not to be noticed as she polished something or other. Wulfric stepped up to her, and inquired cooly, “Did you see where Callum went?”

A nervous expression was directed his way underneath her lashes. She mumbled a greeting of, “Your Highness,” and nodded timidly.

“Where,” he demanded. This question seemed to distress the maid; she bit her lip, and wrung her hands. A small corner of his mind automatically listed the possible reasons for her hesitancy; conflicting loyalty, a desire not to get involved, fear that she was the subject of his attention. A much larger part of him was pitilessly dismissive of her feelings - not only were they completely irrelevant, they were actively hindering him.

“I will not ask a third time,” he warned, thumb sliding his sabre out of its scabbard a bare few millimeters with a noticeable metallic clink. “Where?”

The young woman paled and staggered back with a gasp, but got the idea. A trembling arm rose to point out a direction. “T-the bi-billiard room,” a faint voice whispered.

Wulfric nodded, and fully resheathed the sword. “Very good,” he praised dispassionately, but wasn’t looking at her anymore. He left the servant behind as quickly as he’d approached her, sure steps taking him towards Callum’s chosen hiding place.

He opened the door to the billiard room ever-so casually, and calmly, quietly closed it behind him. He leaned his back on it, however, blocking off the only exit. He did not bother looking for his youngest brother, and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. “We are much too old for these sorts of games, wouldn’t you say, Callum?” His tone was nonchalant, expression placid, but he crossed his arms over his chest. Two fingers tapped in a light but impatient rhythm against his upper arm.

We are much too old for these games. Callum silently mimicked Wulfric's words and rolled his eyes. Then why the chase, Wulfy? Surely the oldest golden child had better things to do than start the morning off harassing him for their father’s benefit. But Wulfric didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon and he was blocking off the door. So Callum climbed onto the statue, resting his head atop it, and draped his arms around the statue to keep his balance. At least it was just Wulfric, he could probably handle that.

“Morning, Wulf, just starting the day with some exercise. So, what’s uh going on?” Callum did his best to sound as innocent as he could manage, and even though it wasn’t a total lie, he knew full well Wulfric wouldn’t buy it. “Got any idea what crawled up Edin’s ass and bit him? Cause I’m drawing a blank here.” He gave a nervous laugh.

Wulfric’s head craned in Callum’s direction when the latter chose to reveal himself. “What is going on,” he repeated derisively. “So, you neither remember anything, nor have you been informed yet,” he concluded. He briefly closed his eyes, and a grim, tight-lipped smile formed. “Let me enlighten you then,” he said darkly.

“You lot were retrieved from your nightly escapade by mother and a group of knights,” he recounted. “And what a sorry state you were all in…You were largely comatose, and completely unaware during your brief periods of consciousness. It wasn’t even certain you’d wake by morning,” Wulfric bared his teeth in anger.

“Anastasia was hacking up blood. The possibility of poison was mentioned - it wouldn’t have been strange if she had died.” After a moment of staring down Callum, Wulfric turned away, chest heaving as he tried to regain a modicum of calm.

“Need I mention that our guests were similarly compromised?” he asked with quiet fierceness. “The Sultan’s son was in full hysterics, the Vizier’s son was a quietly raving mess…” he trailed off, shaking his head slowly.

“Now, every party of interest is to meet in the Entrance Hall, where we will be having a discussion.” He laughed emptily. “In other words, we will be doing our best to save your thankless hides and trying to prevent a war.”

Callum vaguely followed along with what Wulfric said. He had gone to a party with Ana, a few of the sultan’s kids, and a handful of others. Poisoned, well that sounded ridiculous. Marek was a good guy, he wouldn’t have done anything to hurt them, and surely Marek wouldn’t let them all get poisoned at one of his parties. Callum was sure of that. It sounded like they all drank too much and maybe took some drugs? Opium? That did sound like something he would do. Had he given that to Ana? Gods, he didn’t think he would be able to live with himself at all if something truly bad had happened to his sister.

“Oh.” Callum now only stared at the ground. “But Ana’s okay now, right? I think I heard her this morning.” He’d mostly stopped listening after Wulfric had said Ana could’ve died. He climbed and crawled his way back out of the hiding spot and sank to the ground. Did I give Ana opium? Stupid. Why did I do that? Everything started tasting like bile again and he struggled to not start heaving.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get Ana hurt. I think, I think it must’ve been opium.” Callum said in a quiet voice as he hid his face in his hands. This was definitely his fault. He pressed his palms against his closed eyes to make sure he wouldn’t start crying in front of Wulfric. Once he was sure he wouldn’t, Callum slowly stood back up with a tired sigh. “Okay, I’m going. Where am I going?” He didn’t look up at Wulfric, his head still hung low but he headed towards the door. For once he really believed he deserved whatever terrible punishment Edin had in mind.

Wulfric watched silently as Callum finally seemed to realize the full severity of the situation. Good. However, the dark satisfaction seemed to be tinged by pity - or was it worry? He shook off the feeling, disregarding it.

“I don’t know how Anastasia is,” he admitted. Hopefully, they would be seeing her shortly.

When Callum admitted he might have fed them both opium, his eyes narrowed, and harsh lines etched across his features. “Do not suggest so lightly that this might have been your fault when we are in front of the others,” he warned.

Wulfric took a moment to think, sighing. “I am no expert on drugs, but I doubt it was just opium. For one, the doctors would have identified it, and for another, it should not have produced the wide range of effects that were seen,” he reasoned calmly. Whether Callum was actually one of the culprits of peddling drugs or not wasn’t as important. What was was finding the one far likelier to have had a hand in this; the party’s host.

“I believe you all were slipped something - or perhaps, you thought you were taking one thing, and were given another,” he speculated. “The key issue is finding the one responsible,” he emphasized.

“So, if you know anything at all about the organizer, I suggest you speak up.” At that, Wulfric approached Callum, grasped his chin firmly, and tilted his head up. He met his brother’s eyes with serious intent. “Someone needs to be blamed for this, and I would prefer if that were not you nor Anastasia,” he stated.

Callum was still shaken to hear Ana had been so close to death, more so to still have no confirmation that she was alright, and that was all his fault. There was no one to hate but himself and he couldn’t blame Wulfric for hating him either. He didn’t even move as Wulfric grabbed his chin and forced their eyes to meet. He knew his brother would be able to tell if he was lying, there was no point to try.

“We received invitations from people wearing masks, I have no idea who they were, it just sounded like a good time. If anyone’s to blame for a simple party getting out of hand, it is me. Not Ana, no one else, just me. Blame me.” Callum was careful to only say things that were true and to make no mention of knowing the party's organizer. Marek was no royal, he had no protection from the crown’s wrath and Callum would send none if it his way.

“And we should go see if Ana’s alright.” He added, glancing towards the door. He didn’t want more questions from Wulfric, didn’t feel like testing how well he could stand up to an interrogation because the not knowing was making it near impossible to think about anything else.

Wulfric tightened his grip on Callum in frustration, then forced himself to let go. “Weren’t you listening when I said I don’t want you blamed?” He exhaled harshly, momentarily looking past Callum. Of all the times for his brother to become destructively self-flagellating…

Yet it was clear that Callum either could not or would not name someone else. Perhaps if he knew Anastasia faced as much risk as himself, if not more…Wulfric did not find the idea of manipulating his siblings in such a way tasteful, but if it had a chance of working, he was willing to do it.

He laid a palm on Callum’s shoulder. “I am afraid it is known that Anastasia was the one to have led you all to the party. If you wish to aid in her protection, I will need more information.” He walked behind his brother, trailing his hand along Callum’s back. “So, yes, let us go find her, but think very carefully. Remember what you can,” he whispered insidiously. If he could not trust that Callum was clever enough to blame someone else - anyone else - all he could think to do was wait until he was desperate enough to do so.

Because all had been said, Wulfric opened the door for them, and led Callum out, pushing him gently from behind, palm still on his back. Rather than retracing the path he’d taken to get here and risk meeting Edin, Wulfric guided them the other way around.

“Would you like me to make up a name to give you? Or just shift the blame to the first person who pops into my head? Very well, I think Count Damien is behind all this. No wait, maybe it’s the Sultan I saw hosting the party. Or, hmm, I think it was a very old fat man with a long white beard, called himself Clause. Would one of those do, Wulfric? Who should I condemn in my place? Whose head should roll because we all drank too much or dabbled in forbidden substances? I told you all I can remember, we received invitations to a secret party in a warehouse, one that promised no titles and a good time, we all chose to go.” Cal spoke as they walked, his brother leading the way. He found himself only agitated as Wulfric continued to pry for details. The anger at what he’d let happen to Ana was understandable but however she ended up in such a sorry state was his failure. But wanting someone’s head for simply throwing a party was something he’d play no part in.

Fury mixed with devastated disappointment as Wulfric’s fingers dug into Callum’s shoulder. He issued a long, shuddering exhale, then steeled himself. He continued forward resolutely, lips thinning, gaze scorching as he stared far into the distance. “On your own heads be it, then,” he snarled quietly. Finally, he let his hand drop from where he’d been keeping a point of contact with his brother. The warmth of another’s presence was quick to dissipate, and Wulfric’s fingers clenched into a fist as he thought that it may be an omen of things to come.

The two proceeded onwards. Wulfric stopped one of the servants they passed, and informed him simply, “Find my father and tell him I have successfully secured Callum and am escorting him to the meeting.”

Otherwise, the rest of the way to the Entrance Hall was spent in a tense silence. Thankfully, their mother and sister were both there. “Your Majesty,” Wulfric greeted, alerting the queen to their presence. Next, he took in his sister, carefully assessing her state. “Anastasia. It is good that you are up,” his expression minutely relaxed. While he was beyond pleased to see her comparatively better, however, he restrained his relief until barely any warmth leaked into his otherwise perfunctory tone. This was, after all, hardly a celebratory occasion.

Callum let out an immediate sigh of relief as he saw Ana alive and looking well enough. He followed Wulfric to the pair, offering only a nod and a half-hearted bow towards his mother. He didn’t say anything to the queen, not exactly sure how angry his mother was, and knowing his mouth would only make it worse. All of his warmth was saved for Anastasia, and to her, he offered his most sincere smile. “I’m so glad you're alright.” He said, continuing towards her and wrapping his arms around her. “And so sorry for whatever I did.” He whispered as he gave her a hug. Out of his whole family, he wasn’t sure he could stand it if Ana began to hate him too.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{Time: 8:00 AM --> 9:00 AM
Location: His bedroom --> Hallway
Attire: This
Mentions: Callum @Helo}

---

---

Wulfric awoke feeling terrible. He’d slept a scant few hours, and even that fitfully. While his blinding wrath from the previous night had cooled, he was still furious. He grit his teeth as unbidden, memories resurfaced.

It had been very late when the missing nobles had been recovered. All of them were in an awful state, some delirious, some hysteric, some violently ill, others comatose. But by far the worst among them was Anastasia.

His sister was carried in by someone, he didn’t know who – nothing and no one else in that moment mattered. Wulfric’s focus zeroed in on Anastasia. She was sprawled across a servant’s arms, slack and motionless. She was far too pale, her features wan, lips bluish. From afar, she looked like a fresh corpse. Wulfric marched up to her, and firmly pressed two fingers to her neck. Her skin was cool and damp with sweat. Her pulse was erratic; fast but weak at first, faltering as it skipped a beat here and there, then growing weaker till he hardly felt it. From up close, he could see her chest raise with breath – slowly, shallowly, barely visible. He snarled at nothing when he noticed she must have been crying, but stepped away from her.

Having confirmed Anastasia to be alive – for now – he urged for her swift transfer to the medical chamber. His searching gaze flicked from noble to noble, servant to servant, but he did not truly see anything until his eyes alighted on Callum. His youngest brother was slung over someone’s shoulder, limbs swinging around listlessly. Wulfric rose a palm to have them halt, and approached.

His fingers carded into Callum’s hair, and he craned his brother’s head up and back in what would be, if his sibling were awake to feel it, an uncomfortable maneuver. Wulfric peered into Callum’s face. There were not-quite-dried tear tracks upon his cheeks, and he’d obviously vomited at some point. He was completely out of it, in a deep state of unconsciousness. Wulfric’s grip tightened as he briefly considered the possibility that the younger man might not awaken. That perhaps neither he nor Anastasia would.

He inhaled sharply, and abruptly released Callum, whose upper body fell back atop the person carrying him.

Wulfric didn’t know how long he remained nearby; he was vaguely aware of looming over the doctors who were attending to the prince and princess, barking orders, pacing between his siblings’ beds like a caged animal.

When Anastasia began coughing up blood, he had to storm out – he wasn’t sure if it was a decision he’d made on his own, or if his mother had sent him away. Either way, he might have strangled one of those useless fools blathering on about the possibility of “poison,” or how they “couldn’t be certain, Your Highness,” if he’d stayed but a moment longer.

He had no good way to dispel this restless, angry energy; no target to hunt, because whoever had done this had somehow evaded all notice. He spent some time traversing the gardens, thinking of ways to kill or torture whichever damnable host was responsible for the state of his siblings.

Eventually, though, he’d found himself in his room, lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling as he fumed. He went through a series of breathing exercises, tensing then relaxing his muscles in turn. That, combined with the exhaustion after a taxing day, was enough to lull him into a restless sleep.

Oh, yes, there was the fury. But rather than raging freely as it did the night before, the emotion was contained, crystalized into precise focus. Though still concerned for his siblings, his priority was the imminent political situation. Concerns would have to be allayed, retribution granted, accords made.

What price will be extracted? Whom to sacrifice?

However, another way of thinking was that they all, the Caesonian and Alidasht royals both, had one target – the person or people responsible for organizing such an event, and introducing what were certainly illegal substances to their nobles. If all went well, this was an angle that could work.

Wulfric stood up, cool determination settling upon and around him as if he were donning a heavy but comforting mantle.

Unfortunately, a glance as he passed by the vanity revealed it was quite obvious that he was poorly rested. Well, this will not do.

He had some servants bring him water to wash his face with, a large cup of coffee, and one of his most formal outfits. He even tolerated having his face lightly adorned with some cosmetics. In consideration of what would follow, he was dressed to the nines. Dark blue trousers and tunic, both embellished with golden thread; a variant take on the Caesoninan royal colours of blue and yellow. To his left hip went his sabre, in its ornamental sheath given the occasion. It was truly artistic, as expected of a craft made by Lord Ravenwood. However, the beauty of the case and handle belied the deadly functionality of the blade within. Across his shoulders, a beautiful black cloak was set, golden epaulettes and a cloak pin engraved with his family’s crest finishing the look.

Pushing his shoulders back, and raising his chin, Wulfric exited the room – only to witness his youngest brother running at a full sprint past his room. “Callum?” he questioned rhetorically, utterly taken aback. The unexpectedness of the sight had him still for a brief moment within his doorway, but he soon stepped out, peering down the hallway in the other direction. Either there was something or someone there, or his sibling was still suffering the aftereffects of whatever drug he’d taken during the after-party.

𝕮𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙

Theodor watched lazily as Casna popped her victim’s eyes, smirking. While he didn’t care about gore one way or the other – certainly not gleefully enjoying it as much as the vampiress did – he could see the humour in it. “They don’t taste all that good, unfortunately,” he commented. “Like bitter, chewy egg-yolk if I had to compare it to anything…” he mused.

When Casna complained he’d not let her have her grand imagined chase, he slowly lifted a brow. He’d taken the initiative to take the humans out efficiently precisely because he’d wanted to prevent such a thing. Well, and because he preferred not wasting time needlessly. “And have them scream their heads off as they run? Wouldn’t want someone else to interrupt us, would we?” This referring to the fact that this was supposed to be a covert mission, else they risked discovery by other vampires. A situation Theodor didn’t particularly find desirable.

He sighed when Casna threw a money-full pouch carelessly into the bushes, and went to retrieve it. He didn’t strictly need it, but his mind was already working on how to best dispose of the evidence of their actions. He nodded when the vampiress told him to search the remaining man, the one he’d drained. Theodor rifled through the corpse’s clothing, though there was hardly much of interest. A few more coins, which he pocketed, and a worn amulet, which he let be.

Standing up once again, he regarded the corpses. “Well. No way to mistake this for an animal attack. It’s not a foolproof solution, but it’s best to simply disappear the corpses.” He put his hand to his chin as he contemplated the options. There was no way to falsify an animal attack – no blood to scatter around, and the marks of having been drained were too distinctive to disguise. Tear them to miniscule shreds to scatter around – or feed to the pigs? Bit effort intensive. Weight them with stones and throw them into a river? Or perhaps drop them off a remote cliffside? It would be simple, but they’d have to find an appropriate location. Either way, they’d have to be careful where and how they flew.

“Up for a little excursion?” Theodor asked Casna. “Or shall I handle the disposal by myself?” He was fairly certain his friend would consider this boring grunt-work, but perhaps she’d agree to it – or offer a different solution.

Jianghu: Age After War - A wuxia interest check

Seems neat. Will consider joining.