SilverPaw

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: The costume Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Night Location: Calbert Damien's Ballroom Mention(s): Interaction(s): @princess Alibeth, @Lava Alckon Drake

Shortly after his discussion with Captain Durmand, Wulfric was approached by his mother. Did she actually think she was fooling anyone by trying to blend into the crowd when her attire evoked a veritable demoness from hell?

“Of course,” he answered cooly as he removed himself from her hold with a tactical sidestep. “But I cannot very well go forth and remove his tongue this very instance, now can I?” he snarked quietly. To try and preserve the charade that their meeting was coincidental, Wulfric positioned himself so he wasn’t fully facing her. He pretended to be absorbed in the refreshments set on the nearest table. To the casual observer, it would appear as if two guests who had just so happened on one another were merely exchanging trite remarks.

“Truly, that bastard can be dealt with at any time,” he remarked, a tad dismissive of Cassius. Because it would be strange to stand there doing nothing, he picked up a plate, and began an exceedingly fastidious selection of something to snack on. “It might even be entertaining to have his recently claimed son used against the count, wouldn’t you agree?” he questioned rhetorically.

“Speaking of.” He turned to her then, and presented her the plate of appetizers – as if all he was doing was recommending his favourite tidbits to her. In actuality, their conversation topic was of great import. “This household has a touch more of the unusual than you may prefer,” he related quietly, placing special emphasis on those two words. Wulfric expected Alibeth would correctly infer he was referring to magic. “I believe you will see what I mean when Violet makes her appearance.” It was only a terribly eerie supposition on his part that something was wrong with the lady, but if anyone could confirm it, he imagined it would be her.

“Now, if you do not mind, I should like to spend the remainder of my evening without you hovering.” Would he have to explain to her that her presence was, in fact, detrimental to socializing, especially with womenfolk? No self-respecting lady would take seriously a grown man so closely attached to his mother.

Granted, his actual, personal reason was a simple desire to not be scrutinized. It was insulting, the implication that he needed to be watched by her. Annoying, too. Hopefully, Alibeth would take his bait and turn her attention on the Damiens. A much better use of her time, in his opinion.

As he was about to proactively distance himself from her, and leave her to think on his words, Drake made his appearance. Just as he was so close to freeing himself from his mother’s ever-watchful gaze. What unfortunately inopportune timing… At the very least, Alibeth may still very well choose not to linger.

If nothing else, Drake’s penchant for theatricality drew out a smirk from him. “Good evening, Drake,” he greeted. “Or should I greet you as the Musician?” he joked lightly. “Your visage is recognizable despite the mask, you do realize?” he pointed out, entertained by the lord’s actions. Wulfric then moved onto the next immediate point he was curious about. “Was Princess Sadie unable to come?” he inquired, genuinely intrigued. He had seen them together this morning, and suspected Drake had been waiting for her. Possibly, the lord was now sans a date. All things considered, it was a decent opportunity to draw the man into a (preferably private) conversation.

Avalia

Time: Morning Location: The Saltrunner Mention(s): Interaction(s): Tanithil @Lava Alckon, Amisra @Tae, Ismael @Th3King0fChaos, Sirena @Tpartywithzombi Equipment Two short swords, two (concealed) daggers, two pistols, 465 amas.

Arlen had spent a good chunk of their time down with Ismael at Port Vanarosa. They had lunch, chatting about their misadventures thus far, with Arlen asking about how it’d compared to the things the human had done back on earth. The elf had then shown him some fun places. After enjoying themselves for a bit, they had gone back to the ship. And what a surprise had met them there; an entirely new crew member. Amisra introduced Sirena, the dark fairy, and told them a false story of how she’d been found when the princess had left their ship. Arlen had covered for her, and got the truth from Amisra later.

Now, he didn’t entirely mistrust the dark fairy, since she had helped patch up his friend. However, he had heard many ill tidings of her kin, and from his observations, she did appear unstable at times. So, he was wary of her, and kept watch on her throughout their travels. Granted, their new passenger was a far lesser presence in his mind compared to the potentials of treasure. The captain had found a map he judged was genuine, so the chance of them actually getting something was decent. The promise of loot, action, and a fresh adventure energized the elf.

Their sailing had gone well enough so far, with Tanithil settling in as their newly minted, officially appointed first mate. “Ha! Now, don’t go getting’ too big-headed there, Tani,” Arlen playfully flipped him off. Still, he went about his task, though not before some passing words to his other companions. Most notably, Amisra had that stubborn look about her, the kind that let him know she’d be ignoring her injuries. “I don’t like sayin’ this, but you should listen to Tani, he’s got the right of it this time. If you're bored, just stick to that one,” he nodded at the dark fairy. He wrapped an arm around Amisra’s shoulders in a brief hug.

When he caught sight of Sirena, he simply gave her a nod. “Best not fly around too much,” he suggested. “A bad stray wind catches you, you’ll be like those,” he pointed at the billowing sails, “except not tied down.” To Ismael, he offered a bolstering pat on the back, and a, “Happy learnin’.” Then, he did do as Tanithil ordered, and took care of the sails. He couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that their actual captain was doing, however. Strategizing, maybe? Well, whatever, it wasn’t really any of his business as long as they kept afloat, and their human was safe and sound.

Tldr

Has a few words for each crewmember, then goes and does as Tanithil had ordered.

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Yeah, I somehow haven't been feeling like writing anything for this x.x Also didn't exactly wanna quit officially but, idk. My bad.

Avalia

Time: Morning Location: Port Vanarosa Mention(s): Tanithil @Lava Alckon, Amisra @Tae Interaction(s): Ismael @Th3King0fChaos Equipment Two short swords, two (concealed) daggers, two pistols, 465 amas.

Along with Ismael, Arlen collected useful loot off the dead bandits. “Alrigh’, then. Help me haul ‘em over yonder,” he indicated an alleyway leading to the nearest pier. The two dragged the corpses through the small, desolate path, then dumped them straight into the sea. “Well!” Arlen clapped his hands together, then brushed them off as best he could. “That’s that.”

He followed Ismael, letting the human lead along the streets which were all to familiar to the elf. They wouldn’t get lost, and he was curious to see how Ismael did in unknown environments. “The most famous eatery here is Yolichi’s,” Arlen told him. “Figure that's what you saw.”

The two meandered to the restaurant. Though the elf had proclaimed it as famous, it appeared rundown and rather dank. They had to enter through a rickety doorway, go down a narrow staircase, and arrive in a low-ceiling room. Despite the bland if rustic interiors, there were quite a few people there. Arlen and Ismael took a two-person table near a window.

“Ya can ask ‘em to fry something fresh, or get something from the menu. Jus’ a heads up, the gator’s expensive stuff.”

The elf ordered a seafood stir fry and some ale, making casual conversation to Ismael as they waited. “So…there’s another good place around ‘ere. Sailor’s Pleasure,” he smiled slyly. “I know the people there, can probably get us a discount. Maybe some juicy info too~” he chuckled. “Or are ya more the type to pick ‘em up for free?” He nodded at the folk surrounding them. “Though, if ya changed ye mind, I’d always be up for some fun too, ya know?” Arlen grinned.

As the ale arrived, and he sipped on his drink, the elf grew thoughtful. “Still…I know she’ll be fine, but I am worried ‘bout Amisra. Her bein’ her, her pride might have got hurt worse than her head,” he joked weakly, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Maybe we should get some food packed up to go, bring it to our buddies on the ship.” He shrugged, then remembered something. “Oh, yeah, weren’t ya sayin’ how you’re missin’ a dagger? We can stop by a blacksmith or a shop too.”

Tldr

Loots the bandit corpses, then chucks them into the sea with Ismael’s help. Goes to Yolichi’s Restaurant, where he and Ismael order some lunch. Chats up the human.

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Poor Kyouka... From sexy hostess to... Not quite as sexy snek. Hope there aren't any harpies on that mountain looking for passed-out worms to eat. :V

@Xaltwind

Heh, I do feel a harpy is one of those things she might have become too! I like snakes and nagas, but it sure is a shock for her.

Also, tip for Minami: maybe some 'accidental' uncovering of curtains if need be? :p

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Mk, I should hopefully be able to prepare another post soonish (maybe even the weekend). I think I'll have her found by kobolds or some such and have her visit a mountainside village - if that's fine, @TheNoCoKid? Think it's more interesting to do a solo adventure first etc. before any potential meetings with her nearest neighbour (your @Xaltwind vamp).

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Kyouka

“Hnn…Fuck off…” Kyouka reached out a hand blindly, searching for her phone.

“…your time yet. RISE, HUMANS!”

Wait. That wasn’t her phone.

She rolled around…It felt weirdly floaty, as if nothing of substance was there. Kyouka opened her eyes, and saw an imposing black-winged man.

“…Shinigami?” she asked. But she had never heard of a death god that was such a pretty boy. He also wore what seemed to her western styled armour which was heavily accented with gold. Bit gaudy, but not bad. Not bad at all.

“Hm, are you here to take me to the afterworld?” The way he had phrased it was a tad strange. Even so, Kyouka only gave the briefest of glances to her corpse before entering the portal. Her once beautiful body was just a pitiful, bloodied mess that would soon become a rotting skeleton. Nothing for it but to see what this brooding angelic man had to say.

Though she was already floating towards the portal, the thing pulled her in. It was a dreadful yank which landed her somewhere she could only assume was the soul realm. Everything was gray and vague; she couldn’t pinpoint anything besides the ghosts of two other women standing (floating) next to her.

“Your world? Say, what about my world’s gods?” Unfortunately, Drasil didn’t seem to know. So, Vecta would be her new home. “Hmpf, whatever. Just don’t make me a baby, please.”

Kyouka looked on arrogantly as the god smirked at her, but returned a self-satisfied smile. “Thank you, Shinigami~” she gave a cheery wave, “You won’t regret picking me to give a new life to.”

Then, her life flashed before her eyes, again. Something warm and electrifying spread throughout her body; she instinctively knew it was magic. She shivered even as a spirit; the core of her being received a shock. It felt like pure power, and it was better than even the most extravagantly expensive sake she’d tasted. It was overwhelming, and she fell to her (disembodied) knees, breathing heavily. Even so, a sensual grin spread over her ghostly features.

“Mmm,” she purred. “If that’s just a preview, I bet I’d just love the real thing.” She smirked as she gave the god a mock-teasing, cheeky, yet insinuating look up and down. She doubted he was interested, and neither was she, but why not play it up? He seemed to enjoy theatrical displays. A tired chuckle passed her lips as she shrugged. “See you around, then.” A glow suffused her, and she was gone.

The next time she came to, she felt different. Alive and strangely vigorous. She breathed in – the scent was sharply fresh and clear. She was in the middle of a mountain, surrounded by lush grasslands and forests. The nearest sign of civilization was the oddly gloomy mansion set at the base of the mountain, and a large city off into the distance.

She didn’t think she could make it to the city any time, not on foot.

…Something felt off just then. It didn’t feel like she standing exactly. There was an odd wriggling and swishing. She looked down.

Strangely dark complexion with an ashen undertone. Long white hair.

A blue dress?

…That-that was a dress wasn’t it?

Kyouka tried to move a leg.

Swish.

Nausea overtook her as her lower body moved sinuously.

She glanced behind her.

There was a long tail behind her. It began at her waist – she had no legs!

“HIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” she screeched as the realization struck her.

S-she, she, t-there–

The tail happily wiggled back and forth.

Her eyes rolled within her skull, and Kyouka fainted, upper body landing in a sprawl across her coiled tail.

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Whew, it's been way too long, but I've at least started working on a WIP.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

The Falcon and the Wolf

Farim & Wulfric

Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Early afternoon

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Farim had made his way to Wulfric’s horse, and during the pause in conversation before Wulfric made his way out, admired the horse once more. The stallion seemed well kept after, healthy, and a proper specimen of equine capabilities. Farim had scarce the time to interact with horses outside of Munir’s pet horse back home, and he enjoyed the chance to meet or interact with friendly creatures. But before he got too lost in thought, he readied himself for the conversation he prepared to have with Wulfric. From what he knew of the man, the news he planned to share could be taken in great strides or with curt malcontent. For Farim’s sake, he silently prayed for the former.

At a stranger’s approach without his owner present, the horse shook its tail and mane, snorting as it stomped one hoof against the ground. However, the prince’s familiar voice soon carried over, “Calm, Tio.” The stallion obeyed, then softly nickered in greeting, and Wulfric untied it from its post. The prince turned to address Farim. “You said you wish to speak about something, but it may be better to relocate. The middle of the street is hardly an appropriate place,” he suggested. “Any preferences on whether we remain outdoors or retreat indoors?” He would offer his office and the park as candidates, though if the Shahzade had something else in mind, he’d lead them there instead.

Farim took note of the idea of relocating, and nodded in agreement. Truthfully, back home, most conversations truly did just happen out in the open, amongst busy and crowded streets even. But this was just another one of the “little things” that made the customs of each land unique. “Ah, my apologies then. I am happy to discuss where you may prefer. I am actually heading back to the guest house where my family is staying once we have concluded. We could talk there or if you prefer somewhere closer to your family home, perhaps?” His usual cheery demeanor persisted, an uncanny smile placed on his face as he poked and prodded at the man’s preferences. If they were to reconvene, inside would likely be best, but he did not want to impose a location on the older brother after already taking up a fair portion of his afternoon.

“The guest house is fine.” It didn’t seem that the prince cared one way or another as long as they weren’t loitering right in front of a restaurant. Thus, he led his steed by the rope while walking alongside the Shahzade in silence. It was a quick walk to the building, as even without consciously hurrying, Wulfric’s pace was rather brisk. Once again, he tied Tio outdoors, and left him to wait after offering a few pats. He then headed straight indoors. The servants they passed issued quiet, polite greetings, while Wulfric simply gestured for them to be at ease and continue on as they were. He strode the direction of the reading room, and found them a secluded, private nook to sit and speak in. When Farim was settled in as well, he motioned for him to say his piece, looking towards the man with politely curious expectation.

The walk was indeed quicker than Farim had anticipated, finding himself lost in the prospect of what to say. Word choice was important, and delivery even moreso. Farim made sure to give the help a proper greeting all the same, and dismiss any of their constant attempts to offer food, beverage, or assistance. As they found themselves within the reading room, Farim turned to face the man, arms crossed and for the first time a more intense expression. He still spoke with a friendly tone but the concentration and subject matter still carried that aura of respect that he was sure would be important.

“Since coming here, I must say your nation is a lovely one. I have met a few individuals already, and have already begun to get into the rhythm of this entire courting season.” Farim’s hand moved, palm now facing the ceiling, as he did a slight shrug. “As informal as it may be to speak so matter-of-factly. That is one of the larger reasons we are all gathered in such large numbers, after all. The prospect of finding a suitable partner and all, whether for personal or political reasons.” He met Wulfric’s gaze as he talked, not wanting to look away or show meekness at such a pivotal time.

“It is to my understanding that when one is to…express interest in such a person it is customary to inform the eldest male figures of the family of such a thing. That is why, out of both respect and to clear any form of suspicion or curiosity, I wish to speak my intentions plainly so that you may either rest easy or double down on that ‘overprotectiveness’ that you mentioned from earlier.” He smiled slightly, still wanting to throw in some form of casual lighthearted conversation to hopefully ease the tension that he could feel building.

Wulfric gazed on impassively as Farim began talking, crossing one leg over the other. “So, you wish to court my sister,” he summarized. He observed the man, his piercing, cool gray-blue irises giving the impression of seeing through all. Informing him first rather than Edin was a good call on Farim’s part. That he’d approached this so formally was another point in his favour. After a tension-filled moment, the prince nodded once.

“I believe you are serious in your intent, so I have no issues with you attempting it.” He steepled his hands together comfortably in his lap. “This might strike you as strange coming from me, but my sister is not your typical princess.” He imagined Farim knew that much, though he wondered if he was aware of the extent of her peculiarities.

“If - and only when - you manage to earn her favour and her serious consideration of you as a potential partner will you have any hope for the courting process…perhaps even marriage. Anastasia wasn’t the type to settle for a purely political union, and he didn’t intend to force one upon her. Granted, it was because Farim was a royal that Wulfric acquiesced with such ease.

“Naturally, if you harm her in any way,” a chilling smirk arose, “You’d best be ready to give up at least one limb.” Despite the cool amusement, one couldn’t possibly mistake him to be joking.

The Trade Prince had a feeling the eldest brother would catch on quickly. Once Thara was seen in her bedroom, and with how frequently Farim and Anastasia had been together lately, it was only a matter of time. “Well, it would seem you have the core of my message figured out.” He adjusted his posture and calmed his nerves, seeing how Wulfric’s reaction was a rather tame one all things considered.

“But allow me to clarify some things.” His hand gestured towards himself. “I am not some con artist looking to steal a woman from her family. I am seeking love in the purest sense of the word. So, I only mention that I have eyes on your sister. If she has eyes on me, then it can be official. It is her choice after all.” Farim began to pace back and forth, slowly, as he talked. However his gaze was locked onto Wulfric’s eyes with a look that could only be described as genuine, yet serious.

“I am sure there are many others seeking her favor, so if she shall choose another I shall respect it.” He stopped in his tracks, his eyes shifting downward, as if feeling hurt just thinking about it. But just as quickly as he stopped, he then approached Wulfric, eyes moving to meet his. “In a world of fake, cruel, and malicious people, your sister is a diamond in the rough. Her kindness won my attention, but in such a short time her sweet soul and caring nature have begun to win me over as a man. So that is why…” He paused for a moment, as if the very thought put a sour taste on his lips. “If I really am the cause of her hurt, you may take my good arm.” Holding up his right hand, Farim may have added a hint of sarcasm, yet his face seemed to be as serious as ever.

“That being said, if the source is someone else, I hope you do not mind if I show them a proper Alidasht punishment.” The blunt nature of his statement, however morbid, also was a chance for Farim to express how important this was to him. “I will likely be around much more, so of course you can always keep a watchful eye over one such as myself. I have nothing to hide, so I have nothing to fear.” Farim crossed his arms and waited for the man’s response.

Wulfric’s smile became a tad warmer at the Shahzade’s expansive answer. “Well, then, I imagine you and my sister might get along. I expect so could we.” He chuckled at Farim’s offered arm, and said, “In the unfortunate case that things go terribly awry, it very well might be something more…invaluable.” He gave a short but pointed glance towards the man’s crotch area. “But I do not think it will come to anything like that,” he smirked, slightly friendlier than before.

When Farim mentioned his desire to punish anyone who harmed Anastasia, Wulfric gave him a brief stare-down. “Whoever hurts her will be dealt with by me,” he asserted matter-of-factly. “However, depending on the circumstances, perhaps I will let you assist,” he added. “That aside, I am glad you are someone who seems to understand her, and values her for who she is. Though, convincing her might be the challenge,” Wulfric noted. He said nothing to the man’s offer of being watched; if he thought that was needed, he would do it. “That settled, was there anything else?”

The intent behind the message was clear. From Wulfric’s gaze Farim knew just what was at stake for upsetting the eldest Danrose. Still, he smirked and gave a sly retort. “How kind of you to consider it an entire limb.” Then there was the matter of the brother’s need to protect the woman first - a matter Farim yielded to because it was not his place to take the, dare he say, satisfaction of bringing justice to those who wrong his dear sister.

“I shall not overstep. Just like you, I am protective of some people. I am sure that Anastasia herself has been through quite a bit. So while it may very well be a challenge - it is a welcome one.” The heavy nature of his words began to lift at Wulfric’s reaction to the news. All things considered, the man had taken it well. “Ah. No, there is nothing further, unless you wish to ask me something yourself. Either way, should you need anything at a future time, my door is open.” Farim paused to let the prince speak, and would move to open the door for the gentleman on his way out of the guest house.

Wulfric’s expression matched Farim’s for a mere moment at the Alidasht prince’s playful comment. At the comment that Anastasia had been through much, however, his countenance sobered into a frown. “Yes, she has been.” The largest problem was that his sister barely seemed to recognize it, or perhaps she preferred to ignore it. But that wasn’t something he intended to discuss, so he shook his head. “Then we are finished here. I am sure we will be seeing more of each in the near future. I shall also be looking forward to your promised correspondence.” He alluded back to the topic they’d discussed previously, and after a respectful bow, took his leave.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: The costume Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Night Location: Calbert Damien's Ballroom Mention(s): Interaction(s): @PapaOso Cassius

Wulfric had gone on to give a brief greeting to the nobles he recognized, or to those who were perceptive enough to recognize him. He noticed Drake lingering at the entrance, no doubt waiting for Sadie. He raised a wine glass he’d procured his way, but decided to leave the duke’s son be. He was indulging in one of his favourite alcoholic drinks when a new guest appeared. Wulfric didn’t recognize the latest attendee immediately, but when he did, he didn’t pay him any mind besides noting that he was taking to his newly gained status like a duck to water.

But then, the man in question decided to approach him, and from his first to last words, one thing was abundantly clear.

The man was a relentless flirt.

Wonderful, Wulfric thought sourly. Someone new to pester him. If only he could, in his heart of hearts, truly maintain that there was no temptation, this wouldn’t be nearly as annoying. At the very least, however, he had better taste than to consider such a swaggering braggart a prospect.

“Why, thank you,” he accepted the compliment, unperturbed. He did appreciate Cassius’ chosen motif for the costume, but the last thing he wanted was to give him ideas. Wulfric was sure the bastard would grow all the more irritatingly persistent if he thought he had even half a chance. Best to dissuade him right then and there.

“A seducer type, then?” His remark was bland, exhibiting the expectation that he would be bored by this interaction. “Your ilk think they are ever so unique and inventive, but is spewing tried and true lines as if you are following a script supposed to be appealing?” His tone was utterly indifferent, so much so that his words barely registered as an insult.

However, he displayed a modicum of intrigue at the introduction, his mask tilting in a show of avian curiosity. “Hmm?” So, Cassius was going by ‘Lord Damien’ already. Maybe this was now an event in honour of his introduction to noble society, as if he were a lady attending a debutante. Wulfric smirked to himself at the humorous notion.

“Ah, you haven’t been informed yet,” there was a hint of amusement in his tone. Finally, the prince turned to face him directly, deigning to grace him with the full weight of his attention. “Allow me to rectify your ignorance. You are speaking to the crown prince, Prince Wulfric Danrose.” The raven’s beak tipped down as he offered a short nod of acknowledgement.

“I am feeling generous, so let me give you a piece of advice.” He considered the man as he twirled the wine glass between his fingers, and whether it was by skill or natural grace, the claws adorning his gloves left nary a scratch on the glassware, nor made so much as a metallic clink against the chalice. Entirely on instinct, he’d accounted for the potential damage his new accessory might cause, and prevented it with exquisite control.

He sipped at his drink before continuing, having no issues with the action despite his garb. “You should reserve your so-called charm,” the sneer in his tone indicated he didn’t think much of it, “for ladies.” A sigh followed as he took another sip. “This particular game you seem to favour is not one I choose to partake in. But you will find there are a plethora of players willing to indulge you.” He gestured with a hand to the ballroom, demonstrating the numerous other targets Cassius could pursue.