Avatar of The Savant

Status

Recent Statuses

26 days ago
Current And when I say "your" - I really mean any of the politicians in the world.
26 days ago
You can thank your politics for making almost any topic political then, Xandrya along with the idiot followers thinking a lot of topics are not political and something else when they are not.
3 mos ago
Don't forget that the doctor also ignores everything you told them as well so they don't do anything more than the shots and tests they already preplanned.
2 likes
3 mos ago
1x1s are my favorite way to paragraph role-play but they are definitely not for everyone (same with group). It's all perspective.
2 likes
4 mos ago
I have ad block on my laptop but not on my phone. The ads on mobile are outrageous 😂
2 likes

Bio

Salutations~ I am The Savant.

I have been role-playing for over a decade, and I am in my early to mid-twenties. I enjoy reading and writing a lot. The two most current books that I have finished and highly recommend are "The Darkening" by Sunya Mara and "Immortal Longings" by Chloe Gong. Those are the genres that I love to participate in most during my writing, though I am not limited to those. I enjoy all forms of concepts from ancient times to current day issues from fantasy to advanced technology. Fantasy species. Anything that catches my inspirational eye.

If you are ever interested in chatting or possibly setting up a role-play with me through DMs one-on-ones, message me. I promise I do not bite ~ hard. I prefer to role-play with people my age or older because I enjoy graphic descriptions and writings of adult themes. Not everyone appreciates those details which I understand and can respect: Inform me of what you want from me. Boundaries are key with writing partners and I love being able to stay within the boundaries and keep partners for a long time.

I have recently decided to start writing my book with one of my past character and group role-play inspirations that failed, recently, on this site. I have also had odd ideas of writing a book with another person through our role-plays, though I have never had anyone be interested in actually attempting it so I ask people very rarely. If you would be interested in such a crazy idea, chat with me. I would love to discuss this.

Other than that, I am a substitute teacher throughout the week, so I tend to be distracted from morning hours to mid-afternoon but I tend to check my phone and reply when I can. I am an active person even if my public appearance on the site does not live up to that statement. I stay at DMs, usually.

Thank you for reading my biography and getting to know about me. Come get acquainted with me.

Most Recent Posts





Over and over again, Sunni Emberani kept reminding himself that he was not going out of his way to bother Elara. That she was a guest at the inn and needed to be served. The man felt like he was bothering her even if his rational side was telling him that he wasn’t. He could not help his eyes which wandered for a few seconds, — Where is Syraeia? — There was no sight of the Cyclops around. Did she forget about her role in the inn? Being the innkeeper. Maybe she needed a break. His eyes shut a little too hard before opening and returning to the beauty in front of him.

Everyone was beginning to fade out into murmurs since the rushing of his heartbeat echoed in his ears. There was a mixture of emotion in his amber eyes that reminded people of fireflies and candlelights.

An instantaneous feeling consumed his body as he felt like he was on a stage before the young lady. That he was the center of her attention and he could feel his ribcage tightening around his lungs with that thought. It felt like it was difficult to breathe. A dry swallow began as he repositioned his arms to fold across his chest. He forced himself to blink under the assumption that he was staring at the woman a little too long.

Her words caused his shoulders to slump, not in relaxation, but a similarity to defeat. Sunni didn’t realize it though he was bothering the woman. His face was beginning to twist with emotion though he forced a smile out of it. A smile that looked uncertain and anxious. “I apologize for bothering you Lady Elara,” He took a breath as he spoke those words and kept that unsure smile. His internal thoughts were ragging on him for going out of his way to bother her. Amber eyes fell to the floorboards for a few seconds as his grip tightened on himself in an attempt to feel smaller than he was.

Other duties? That thought rang in his head as he took a gradual look around the inn. He didn’t have any more obligations here at the inn, he didn’t believe he did, but he needed to get back to working on that roof. Sadly, his helpers were a pint or so into their enjoyment and young. They would be useless to him and the worksite. He nodded his head, “Yes, I should,” He agreed with a slight disappointment lingering in his tone.

That was when a bit of confidence took over him and he looked at Elara, looking into her ocean-blue eyes, and thinking for a split second. Not allowing any time for him to backtrack or bring up enough doubt to stop the words from leaving his mouth until he heard a familiar voice. His eyes blinked over to the smaller woman and he smiled at Syraeia who appeared beside him, “Hello Syraeia…'' There went all his plans to retrieve the item from his room that he wanted to get Elara. All that confidence ran out of his system as his nervousness began to shake and the feeling of being overwhelmed took hold of him. His eyes glanced back at Elara before he began to disappear into the background of the inn.

When Syraeia brought up that Sunni should take a break, his face neutralized, and he shook his head in disagreement. “No, I just woke up from a nap,” His voice protested with a seriousness. He couldn’t take a break. The man got off of one not that long ago. “Well, since you are back,” A smile formed on his face as he clasped his hands. Syraeia was able to take over all the obligations for the inn once again.

Taking a step backward, he was putting distance between himself and the two women. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Elara, and I appreciate the offer, Syraeia, though I really have to get back to work,” The man honestly felt so defeated inside at the moment but he didn’t let that show. Giving the two women a semi-forced and semi-genuine smile. Sunni left them to their doings and made his way back to the counter to correct everything that he had done. Catching up on orders and so on. That took less than a moment and he had disappeared from sight.

Going up to his room, he opened the door slowly and made sure he didn’t disrupt anything from falling off the walls or falling over. Carefully, he shut his door and rubbed his face before his hands combed through his hair. He needed to come up here to grab the roof plans for the building and he sat at his desk.

Sunni looked at a drawer before opening it and bringing out a small container that was made of redwood with golden decorations. The area for a lock was unlocked. Nothing to protect it from being opened and he caressed his finger over the little box. “She wouldn’t even like this anyways..” he whispered to himself.

A moonstone. They were also known as moonlites. Aurelians had no use for them and in particular, Lunarians might not either, but they were known to be rare in generality. Something that most Lunarians cherished because it was to reference their beliefs and faith in the moon and the goddess above. He had read about them in an Aurelian geology book. How people would pass them down generationally because of their rarity and what they could mean as a gift. He had no other individual in mind to give such a thing to except Elara. She might not even like it or possibly think it was a stupid little thing.

Grabbing the little wooden container that was dark velvet inside, he opened it up and smiled widely to see it was glowing. He did what he remembered from the book. You set it on your window sill for a few days before placing it in a dark area so it fully absorbs the moon's light and the power of that transition can last anywhere from a week to three months. The longer it is moon bathing the longer it lasts and so on.

Moonstones, when they are not charged are a beautiful iridescent stone. Sunni had got this one to charge with ease so it was similar to how the galaxies looked above. Upon opening that little chest with the stone that fits nicely into his palm. Colors began to dance around his room and he smiled wildly. It was nothing like he had ever seen and he loved the properties of the rock yet he felt like Elara would cherish it more than he could ever do. He enjoyed collecting rocks but there were no cultural or emotional ties to the natural object. Not like he thinks it would be for a Lunarian. Closing that little container, “She would only think I am a weirdo for giving her a rock…” he put it back into his desk drawer and opened another drawer. Grabbing the sketched blueprints for the roof, Sunni stood up and grabbed his coat. Making sure his coat was on, the blueprints were carefully placed in his pocket, and he was heading back downstairs. Not to Elara or Sya. Not to anyone in particular.

Sunni made his way out the back and quickly moved past everyone. Making his way to the building site and bringing out the blueprints. The man placed it on a flatter area while putting things on the corners to hold it down and keep it from blowing away. The Aurelian began to get back to work on the house that he was building. Building the roof alone and paces away from the inn where he would be bothered by others.


Interactions
@Qia Elara
@PrinceAlexus Syraeia




About an hour had passed, the Prince guessed, since Octavia had fled into the confines of her room. Now, Flynn sat on the floor, leaning with his back up against Octavia’s door, one leg outstretched while the other was bent, supporting the elbow of the hand that propped his head up. His eyes closed, Flynn struggled to fight off the temptation of sleep. He had been listening to Octavia's sobs for the past hour, but now they seemed to have quieted. He hoped she had fallen asleep, if only to escape the agony of grief for a brief moment.

He didn't know what he would do or even say to her when she decided to come out, but he wanted to be there for her. He supposed this was his way of being there, even if she didn't know it or care. "Maybe I should find Elara…" He thought, knowing that Octavia would likely welcome her more than him. Still, he didn't want to leave her. Remaining at his post, Flynn sat unmoving, his mind repeatedly analyzing the words that Octavia's sister had written in her letter. How could it be possible?

It felt like an eternity of emotions flowing through her system before a stinging ache echoed in her vocal cords. At this rate, she knew she wasn’t going to have a voice tomorrow. Lying in her bed feeling hollow and almost lifeless, the young woman began to twirl her hair, and begin to process the information that her sister wrote to her — she only saw one-fourth of the letter and not even that.

This was devastating news, and she could hear her husband waiting for her outside of her door. She couldn’t imagine this was what her mother would have wanted for her. Not for any of her children. Sitting up, she limply found herself upright, and her hands folded in her lap as she sat there staring into space. “Please don’t…” She whispered in a quiet voice that her husband might not have been able to hear.

Light footsteps could be heard from her bed to the door before she stopped on the other side. She needed to start trying to let her husband in, but she was terrified to do so. With a shaky breath and consideration, she asked, “Flynn, do you know if we have any brown sugar?” Those words helped her gain the courage to open the door to her room. She knew she looked horrible — her eyes puffy and her face red from emotions. Her throat was raspy from the complications of crying and dry from the dehydration that it caused. Tears were still rolling down her cheeks as she tried to wipe them from her face with her shawl.

Half asleep, Flynn did not hear Octavia as she approached from the other side of the door. As the door opened, his eyes snapped open, and he suddenly found himself flailing as he tipped backwards, completely caught off guard. He landed on the floor with a thud, staring up at Octavia like a turtle flipped onto its shell. "Well, hello…" He muttered, giving her a sheepish smile and lying on his back for a few more moments. Even though she was clearly distraught, it seemed to make her blue eyes sparkle even brighter in the candlelit halls of their home.

"Brown Sugar?" he asked from the ground, slowly pulling himself onto his feet and dusting off his clothes. "I'm not sure. I can check." Admittedly, Flynn knew very little about what they did or did not have in the kitchen. Despite his many skills, cooking was not one of them. For his entire life, servants had cooked for him - he doubted even his own mother knew how to cook, though he'd never say as much. "Uhm..." He hesitated, fighting the urge to pull her into a hug for fear of doing the wrong thing. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but he knew it was a stupid question. "Why do you ask?"

She covered the lower part of her face with her shawl when she heard the thump of Flynn’s weight on the wooden floors along with the somewhat surprised expression that peered up at her. It felt almost morbid that her sense of humor was trying to come out during such a time. Trying to cover the beginning of the laugh that came out of her mouth, she swallowed the rest of it down and started coughing. “Excuse me,” She got out in between the small coughing fit before she got it under control.

Flynn fought back a smirk as he watched Octavia try her hardest not to laugh at him. Though her lips were covered, he could see the joy reflect in her eyes. It made his heart flutter to see her amused, even if it was at his own expense. For a moment, he was awestruck by her beauty and yearned to make her laugh and smile more often.

When her face felt like it wasn’t smiling anymore and was neutral, she removed the shawl from it and kept her blue eyes on her husband. “No… It’s fine. I can check,” She shouldn’t be asking her husband for anything. Octavia began to wave him off while attempting to move around him. “I shouldn’t have asked. I can check myself. I just want something comforting,” Brown sugar was not the only ingredient in the product she wanted. Octavia would look to see if they had tea, brown sugar, milk, honey, and spices to make what she wanted. Her mother always made the drink for her or her siblings when they were upset, and it was a sudden craving of hers.

"Fuck it" He thought, reaching out as she tried to move past him. In one swift motion, he wrapped a hand around Octavia's waist and pulled her into a warm, protective embrace, encircling her as if he alone could shield her from all the sorrow and pain in the world. He held her close in silence for a few breaths, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest.

"I’m here for you," he murmured softly into her ear, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what to say next. He hadn't planned any of this, which was unusual for him. As a Prince, he was always meticulously planning things, rarely taking chances unless they were well thought out over time. Acting on impulse was not in his nature; at least, not until very recently.

Slowly, Flynn unwrapped his arms from her, mentally preparing himself to be scolded and shut out once again. "I want to help." He assured her again, giving her a half smile before turning towards the stairs. "If we don't have brown sugar, Sunni ought to have some in that treasure trove of a room he's living in."

It was surprising to feel her weight shift off of the balls of her feet. Being pressed up to a larger body and for a split second, her mind panicked, but she instantly settled upon reminding herself that it was her husband. It was okay. When she realized he was hugging her, she sighed and relaxed even more. “Thank you…” She whispered while letting her head rest against his chest.

When she felt his weight leave her, an emotion she wasn’t sure she had felt before wracked her system, and a frown appeared on her face. She stepped away while neutralizing her expression. Octavia didn’t look at him in the eyes and stared at the floor. “I don’t really feel like leaving the house again…” Octavia honestly spoke and hoped that her husband wouldn’t be angry with her.

"That's alright." Flynn said, pausing to look back at his wife, a tinge of pain jolting through him as he observed her. With the help of what her sister had written in the letter, Flynn could see clearly now that Octavia tried so hard to be small, quiet, agreeable, and out of the way. From what he could gather, this was how the King of Lunaris had raised Octavia to be.

"You're my future Queen, you can do as you please." He smiled, taking her hand into his, feeling more confident after she did not immediately reject his embrace. "You can stay inside here forever, if it suits you." He interlaced his fingers with hers and gently guided her to descend the stairs with him. "If my Queen demands brown sugar, then I shall find it for her, or die trying." He added playfully, trying his best to lighten the mood in any way that he could. There was no possible way for him to mend what Octavia was feeling, but he could at least try to make her smile or feel comfortable.

As they entered the kitchen on the first level of their cabin, Flynn released her hand and began to search through their pantry. "Let's see..." Everything in the pantry was foreign to him, as Elara and the other servants had been tending to the kitchen for the royal couple. Flynn read the labels of every single item, trying his hardest to figure out what sort of package brown sugar would come in.

...you can do as you please, were words that caused her brow to furrow in suspicion. Was this a test? That caused a nervousness to jolt through her system and she didn’t know how to respond to him. How was she supposed to respond to such a statement? A princess, let alone a Queen, could not do whatever she pleased. Then her neutralized expression fell into a frown from the mixed signals that she was retrieving. She honestly didn’t know if the words were serious or jokes, it felt like she was on egg shells, and hearing that she could stay in the house forever caused her to tense. Was he taking back his first statment? “I don’t want to stay in here forever,” She spoke right above a whisper when she replied to that. That was not something she wanted to do but the tone of her voice said it all — did she have an option if he wanted that from her?

Then her face twisted when he told her that he would die trying to find her brown sugar, “Or I could teach you how to make some…” The only ingredients that they would need were molasses and cane sugar. They would find one of the two options. “You don’t have to die over sugar,” Octavia was taking him seriously and looking at him like he had two heads.

Watching her husband aimlessly look around the pantry, the woman sighed, “Flynn… they are in the wooden chest,” She mentioned while walking past him and opening up a chest that had sugar cones in it. The paper was colorful, the sugar was dampened to make a cone shape inside and dried, “Now where are the sugar scissors?” She mumbled more to herself as he looked around. Octavia began to look around.

"Ah, of course." Flynn said, watching as Octavia found the brown sugar without any trouble. He grimaced at how much of a fool Octavia could make him feel in instance. He had done nothing to lighten the mood with her as she took him far too seriously, and he had done nothing to help her in finding the sugar. Defeated, Flynn ran a hand through his blonde locks, causing his once manicured hair to look more disheveled.

"I... do not know." He admitted, sighing as he leaned against one of the counters and crossed his arms in discomfort. In Aurelia, he was rarely put into situations such as this. "I'm sorry." He frowned, his emerald eyes looking to the ground now. "I'm pretty useless, aren't I?" He joked at his own expense, a half smile on his lips, though he felt the weight of his own words in that moment.

Octavia listened to her husband speak as he sounded almost disappointed that she found the sugar. As she looked around for the sugar scissors, she found them hanging, and she grabbed them with a light smile. They looked like a tool you would use on a horse or something. Nothing like scissors at all. “Useless?” She repeated back as she absorbed the apology and his comment.

At first, she frowned upon seeing his face but her lips curled slightly when he tried to joke, “You could be completely useless. We have a saying in Lunaris. As useless as a castle's straw gate,” She giggled with a slightly bigger smile. “At least you are not that useless or I would honestly be disappointed my mother even fought for me to marry you,” She grabbed a bowl before going back over to the sugar cones and getting an amount that she saw fit for the drinks. Closing the box, hung up the scissors, and went to the counter she began to find spices to add to the bowl.

Flynn watched his wife in silence for a few moments, a tired half smile still maintained on his lips. He had never heard that Lunarian phrase before, but he was glad Octavia found humor in it. "What was she like?" He asked, "Your mother?"

His eyes on the bowl of spices that Octavia was putting together, he ruminated on the fact that the Queen of Lunaris had pushed for the Princess to marry him. He wondered if the Queen knew anything about the type of man he was, or if she offered Octavia’s hand blindly. It had been a desperate plea of his to marry the Princess, a last minute idea he had in order to save both of their lives - if only for a few more months or years at most. He knew little of the Princess at that time, but he had been pleasantly surprised upon meeting her on their wedding day. She was strikingly beautiful and seemed more well mannered than he had thought Lunarians were capable of being. Albeit cold, at least she was easy on the eyes. It wasn’t hard for him to be attracted to her, which was half the battle if this so-called prophecy was true.

Well…” The woman didn’t even know where to start as she began to add spices to the bowl that was a mortar and pestle. She began to grind the spices she added in thought. As she ground the species and brown sugar together she thought about it. “...she was everything to everyone. The whole kingdom practically loved her. She made the capital better with her presence…” It caused her to swallow at the thought of her mother being gone.

My mother was… quite unorthodox in how she was. She would take my sister and me to the soup kitchens and that’s where we learned to cook and sew for the people of Lunaris. My mother was constantly helping, even against my father’s wishes. It was almost like we were in a secret society at times. I’ll never be a quarter of what she was. People believed my mother kissing their children on the forehead blessed them. People loved and worshipped her for her grace, kindness, and patience,” That was when the pestle slipped from the motion of grinding and she made a faint noise as she put her thumb into her mouth. She cut herself on the roughness of the bowl.

Her brows furrowed at the stinging sensation on the knuckle of her thumb as she looked at the spices, trying not to let tears out, and after a minute, she took it out of her mouth and looked at it. It was barely bleeding, more of a skinned knuckle than anything, and she began to add more spices and grind. “I think my mother liked what she heard from people. She actually asked Mister Emberani about you when he was going through the Lunarian trade routes… I don’t know what he said about you, in all honesty, but my mother was persistent before that on me marrying you. She became even more persistent after that, though I think it’s because my father was trying to marry me off to one of his noble friends. I think the man’s name was Oscar. I really didn’t know him except that he was an overweight pig in his sixties and had grandchildren older than me,” Octavia giggled at that comment of the man being an overweight pig.

Flynn raised a brow as Octavia explained that his friend, Sunni, had spoken to the Queen about him. Flynn knew that the merchant had connections everywhere, but Sunni had never told him that he had been speaking to the Lunarian royals directly - and he had certainly not mentioned putting in a good word for him when the marriage proposal had been made. Mentally, he added that to the list of things that he needed to ask Sunni about when they were able to have that drink.

My mother joked that he was as big as an air balloon and he could eat a whole feast by himself so I could have married worse than a man that cannot find brown sugar by himself,” Octavia glanced up at Flynn’s eyes before a light blush and a shy smile appeared on her face. She looked back down as she continued to ground the spices more than they needed to be.

Flynn's closed lipped smile grew more genuine as Octavaia's eyes flicked up to briefly meet his, accompanied by a slightly backhanded compliment. At the very least, he supposed he was a preferable choice to an old, fat husband. For a few moments he did not respond to her, but let the silence linger between them as his gaze lingered on her as he absorbed the information she had given to him. It was heartwarming to hear the way she spoke about her mother; he wondered if he would have been so kind to his own mother if their roles had been reversed.

Noticing the way Octavia's cheeks had flushed, he looked her over as she kept her attention on the spices. It was cute, the way she avoided his eye contact after such a harmless compliment. He wondered if Octavia had ever had a lover of her own before all this. Had he ripped her from the embrace of another person that she had loved, just as he had done to himself? Despite being very attracted to Octavia, something in the back of his mind reminded him that his heart still yearned for another; Nyla. A quick stab of pain went through his heart as he looked at his future Queen, silently willing the memory of his former lover to leave him. She was the past. The person who loved Nyla was not - could not - be him anymore.

"She sounds lovely." He said softly, shifting uncomfortably on the counter, disturbed by his own thoughts. "We should... honor her memory, somehow." He offered, though he did not know exactly what the Lunarian customs were. In Aurelia they would hold a great feast around a great funeral pyre and offer gifts to the Goddess Aelios, asking her to safely guide the dead into their next life.

Sounded,” She corrected the man since her mother wasn’t living anymore. The woman left the spices while walking over to the stove. She opened a small tray up in the iron stove as he placed wood and burnable before taking a match and lighting it. Going over to where the water pitchers were, she filled up a kettle before putting it on the heating stove, grabbed two cups to put the spices into them, and took care of the mortar and pestle quickly. “I do not think it would be appropriate to honor her. She didn’t want that,” Octavia casually brought up.

Thinking about it, she let her hands fiddle with themselves, “My mother… she didn’t believe in the goddesses. She was a wicca,” The young woman brought up since it was true. “My father mainly believes in the Lunarian religion in the family. I’m torn. I know my sister and younger brother believe,” She brought up their faiths, generally, but Octavia was so much like her mother — they did not necessarily trust the religion for they found it corrupted by the royal family, specifically the king. She was ridiculed for being curious about the blight-born like her mother was.

Flynn's smile faltered slightly as she rejected his idea, feeling like he had once again said the wrong thing. It did surprise him to hear that the Queen did not believe in the Goddess Seluna. Although the Goddesses were difficult to please, Flynn did believe in them. He did not, however, trust the clergy who directed the thoughts of their subjects, proclaimed to speak on behalf of the Goddess and see the future. "I... cannot say I blame her." He said truthfully, glancing out the nearest window to the pitch-black sky outside. Although the sun should've been high overhead at this time of day, only the moon remained. "I am.. skeptical.. of-" He paused, feeling almost afraid to speak ill of the clergy out loud. "Of all this... the prophecy, and all." He sighed, glancing toward the ground. His mother would have had his tongue if she could hear him now. In truth, he had zero belief that the prophecy was true. He couldn't believe that his death and his future child held the key to saving the world. There had to be something else going on beyond the surface within the clergy. The seer of Aelios had to be wrong. Whatever vision they had seen, they had to have misinterpreted it.

Eager to change the subject, Flynn looked towards the kettle on the stove. "What are you making?" he asked, inhaling the aroma of steeping spices, momentarily savoring the comforting scent.

Octavia looked over to her husband while he spoke or tried to speak his mind about the religion of the twin goddesses. It was sometimes suspicious. She didn’t think that having a child would do anything or sacrificing themselves would save the world. It wasn’t logical or practical — why them? Why not their parents? Why not some random individuals? Why did anyone have to sacrifice their lives to deities in the sky? Deities that left them a long time ago in her opinion. She didn’t speak out about it and she went to open her mouth about it but he changed the subject. The woman seemed to chew on the inside of her lip, “My mother calls it brown chai because of the brown sugar,” She went over to a cupboard and grabbed loose leaf tea along with a holder. Putting it into the kettle as she wandered around the kitchen a little bit. She was mainly checking different things out.

I’m not so sure about the prophecy either, Flynn…” She spoke quietly as she brought her opinion up. That might have been a bold statement though she was hoping he understood where she was coming from on that comment. Waving her hand after a minute she looked around for a container that had fresh milk from this morning. She found one and brought it to the island counter as she poured some of the contents into two cups.

Flynn felt conflicted as Octavia expressed her concern with the prophecy; on one hand he was glad to have someone to feel the same way that he did, on the other he felt as though they both were completely trapped in a hopeless endeavor. He had to find another way out of this before the clergy came for their heads. Their research had to find something. Maybe the two Kings just hadn't tried hard enough yet. He was determined to save both of them... somehow.

As the kettle began to whistle, she used her shawl to move it off the heat, and she brought it over to the cups before pouring it in. The contents together made a tan liquid that looked creamy and was filled with spices. “Flynn…” She spoke out while handing him a mug of the contents.

As he watched Octavia pour two cups of the brown chai, Flynn began to wonder what their life would be like if they did find some kind of cure. Would they stay married or go their own way? Would their families be torn apart by then and would they even be welcome back in their own kingdoms? He tried to steady his mind, reminding himself that he was thinking much too far into the future. Focus on the now, as the Captain of the Guard used to remind him during their training sessions.

Hearing Octavia call him by name, his eyes met hers as he grabbed the mug from her. "Yes?" he asked, sensing the seriousness in her tone. It was comforting to hear his name from her lips, yet her tone also filled him with a nervous anticipation of what was to come.

I…” She started while picking up her own cup. Holding it with both hands in a similar way to how a child would hold a mug. Octavia seemed to be debating her words as she took a sip of the drink and seemed to ease up a little more. It was a difficult thing to bring up for her but she knew how easily people spoke about it — their sex lives. She wasn’t going to be surprised that a prince had his way with people though what would he think of her? Her father never let her out of the castle or the eyes of others she barely even looked at a boy who wasn’t related to her.

She huffed a little while looking at him and looked back at her drink, “The prophecy, I understand what it entails, though I am terrified of you because of it,” She spoke more without thinking which led to a more honest answer. “I’ve never held a boy’s hand until being in Dawnhaven with you… and that boy is you. I… I’ve barely even looked or been around guys that weren’t related to me,” Octavia was staring at her cup with flushed cheeks since she felt like this was a good time to confess that. She was hoping that her husband understood that she was extremely sheltered to the point of not having her own life or experiences because of her father’s ruling.

Flynn frowned as the realization washed over him; Octavia had never been with another person at all?! He was to be her first, bound by duty. Looking down into his brown chai, Flynn took a large gulp as he felt the panic rise within his chest, barely tasting the liquid at all. "A virgin?!" He thought, feeling the responsibility of this revelation weighing down on his chest like a hundred bricks. Not only had he uprooted Octavia from her home, but he had also robbed her chance to experience her first intimate encounter with someone she loved. Although, in the back of his mind, he reminded himself that she could have been married off to an old fat man. Certainly, he would have cared about Octavia's enjoyment much less than Flynn would. Perhaps she was still lucky to have been betrothed to Flynn afterall. At least, that's what he would have to tell himself.

"This is delicious." He blurted awkwardly, forcing a smile as he took another big gulp of the drink. It was good, but he could barely analyze the taste between the thoughts that fired throughout his mind. What was he supposed to say? Gods, he hated not knowing what to say!

Taking in a deep breath to calm his own heart, Flynn set the cup down on the counter and finally raised his gaze to Octavia, finding that her face had become a bright shade of pink. Guilt sank in further. He looked at her with sympathy, silently wishing that she hadn't had her life so cruelly stolen from her by both her father and now the prince himself. Finding it in him to bring his mind back to reality, he reached out and grabbed Octavia's hand.

"Please don't be afraid." He watched her carefully, unsure of how he could comfort her over such a subject. She barely knew him and had apparently been confined to the castle walls, of course she was terrified. "We don't have to do anything, if you don't want to." He said, knowing that if the clergy had heard such things that they would immediately report this to the royal family and the high priest and priestesses. They had sworn to abide by their duty, this could be considered treason. "I..." He paused, considering his words. "It can wait... until you feel comfortable." He glanced back down to his brown chai, having drunk half the cup with only two drinks. He didn't know if Octavia would ever feel enough attraction towards him to complete their royal duty, but he said it anyway.

Mhm…” She replied when he stated that the drink was good, and she took her own sip. Maybe she shouldn’t have shared that information with her husband… maybe she should have kept her mouth shut until after everything happened. It would have probably been easier on them both, especially him, if she did. A guilty feeling bubbled in her stomach and up to her chest. She continued to take sips of her drink. Listening to her husband try and utter a response. It made her feel worse than she did for sharing.

A glance probably spoke more than all the words she could say at that moment. The look in the princess's eyes looked almost begging — please don’t lie to me. They said. Looking back at her cup, she barely drank anything, and a frown began to form on her face. Earlier emotions draining over her as she thought about her mother and her sister’s letter. Her emotions were scattered everywhere. There was no singular focus for her at the moment.

When would she feel comfortable? She had no clue if she ever would. It wasn’t like she had a choice in the matter in the long run. If they didn’t agree to it… the pawns of the religion would force them. She knew that the sun priestess was supposed to be arriving soon, and the moon priest would be here any day too. “I’m going to go back to my room,” She didn’t want to be in the common parts of the house anymore. Plus, there was more to read of that letter from her sister.

Octavia walked over to the dining room where she knew she dropped the letter. It was placed on the table and she grabbed it. Mentally preparing herself to read all of it. She began to make her way back to her room. The young woman decided to leave her room door cracked open for various reasons though she was reminding herself to not shut people out.

Flynn left his arm outstretched on the counter as Octavia pulled away from him and left the kitchen, that sinking feeling of rejection prodding at him once again. "Oh..." He responded to her statement, watching as she picked up the letter from the dining room table.

As Octavia left the room, Flynn did not protest. Instead, he seated himself at the dining room table and leaned his head into his hands. Massaging his temples, he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Today had already been so draining and it was only noon. The Queen of Lunaris was dead... was he supposed to make an announcement to the civilians of Dawnhaven? Word would spread soon. As their leader, he supposed it would be the right thing to do. However, he wanted to let Octavia mourn on her own before she was bombarded with people's sympathy. Elara needed to be told as well. He sighed deeply. There was so much to do. Thinking about returning to his own room for the day, he was interrupted by the sound of a knock on their door.

He sat there for a moment, considering ignoring whoever it was at the door. Reminding himself that this was the burden of a ruler, Flynn stood and willed his legs to move towards the entrance of their home. Opening the door, Flynn plastered a smile onto his face as he met face to face with their new blacksmith. "Wenyr." He greeted, falling into his role as a charismatic Prince once more. "What a pleasure, I was just going to come find you." He lied, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. Normally, he would have invited the blacksmith inside, but he wanted Octavia to have her privacy. "I hope your journey here was not too difficult." He glanced up towards the sky, "It seems you made it just in time, before the snow begins to stick."


Collab Octavia and Flynn
Interactions Wenyr @Fetzen


~bump
BUMP!







Subtle twitching of the muscles was visible as the man found himself in a peaceful sleep to a nightmare. A bad memory of him and his father. Something that he had no remembered in a while surfacing in his unconscious state. It caused his breathing to change even if he stayed asleep. The sleep that he was experiencing was becoming more uncomfortable by the second.


I want to be apart of a happier family…

A happier family?” A disgusted tone came from the aging Cyrus Emberani the 4th.

Little Sunni nodded his head while his big amber eyes looked worried with his father’s tone but even at the age of eleven, he was showing rebelliousness, “Like mama Daisy’s family. They are happy.

Misses Puckett and her family are dirt poor, Cyrus,” The head of the Emberani household said such words with such convincing repulsion that anyone could be convinced that money was the only form of happiness.

The young boy stood there in his father’s office as if he were on a platform getting judged by a court. A nervous tick was beginning to form as he held onto his non-dominant wrist so tightly and began to scratch at it with his nails, “I.. I…” Sunni began stuttering under the intensity of his father’s eyes. “I just…” The young boy couldn’t get his words out in time.

With a belligerent tone, Cyrus spat out, “Can you not fucking speak right? Spit it out, boy,” The emphasis on the boy sounded as if it was poison on his father’s tongue. A curse word.

Sunni flinched at the sudden behavior difference from his father, he knew that anger and wrath were brewing in the man, and tears began to form in his eyes. His lips parted to say something but nothing came out as he fell silent. “And you will stop referring to Misses Puckett as mother or mama. It is quite pathetic how you hold onto a woman that isn’t even family. Betraying your mother like that.

This caused the young boy’s brows to furrow, “Mother is dead!” He shouted at his father, beginning to mirror the same anger as the older man. “And I can speak properly! I can speak better than you can! At least I can talk about my emotions unlike you! You use mother against me even though I never met her. I only know her through paintings and stories. She’s not my mother! Naomi Emberani was NEVER my mother!” Sunni didn’t mean to explode in such a way but his father brought the worst out of him.

The room fell eerily quiet while his amber eyes locked onto his father’s amber ones. His father began to move around the desk and Sunni took steps back. With each step that was approaching him, he distanced it with at least one step of his own, and he knew he messed up. Telling his father that Naomi was not his mother. It was true. She might have been his biological mother but the only mother Sunni truly knew was Daisy Puckett. However, facts didn’t matter to Cyrus Emberani when he felt like his son was betraying the household.

A strong grip yanked on the boy’s curly red hair causing him to fall to his knees, “Let go!” Tears began to streak down his face as he grabbed onto his father’s wrist to lessen the pain. Cyrus’s eyes showed that he was not absorbing anything from his son, his cries were useless, tears meaningless, and the pain that he would cause the boy would only be seen as a learning curve to the older man. Sunni Emberani would have left his father’s office that day with welts, bruises, and small breaks in his skin from a leather belt and its buckle.


A gasping realization of coming to consciousness, Sunni groaned, as his hands were pressing up against his face. His heart was beating quicker than he would like upon waking and he felt like he got no sleep at all. “What time is it?” He mumbled to himself as his hands fell away while he looked around the room. His body twitched and ached from that dream since he could remember the pain of that memory.

Slowly sitting up and looking around, the man gave himself a few minutes until a sigh was let out. Getting to his feet without knocking anything over, Sunni quickly stripped his clothes and put on a whole new outfit. The fresh undergarments against his skin felt soothing while the clean clothes over them felt refreshing. Combining his hand through his hair for a moment, he looked down at himself and determined if everything looked fine. A faded blue shirt with puffy sleeves and a loose neck that showed a bit of his chest. His pants were a brownish-gray color that was also faded. Worn clothes. Putting his leather vest on which had a nice amount of useful accessories along with pockets and his belt that had a few things attached to it as well.

The man moved over to the door and put on his boots before looking at the small clock that was near it, “Dammit. I passed out for too long… Sya probably needs help. I need to get back to building that house with the boys,” Sunni tried to be quicker with his second boot though his speediness caused him to fall over — a tumbling crash of multiple things and something breaking? The man was in a semi-awkward position on his back, wedged up against something, with the coat stand fallen over him, and a picture off the wall. A hand went over his eyes as he thought about what he just did, “You idiot…,” He began to laugh at himself.

Sunni decided to get himself out of the situation and clean everything up. The small porcelain trinket he had somewhere by the door got knocked down and shattered. Picking up all the pieces carefully, he made his way over to his desk and placed everything neatly on the piece of furniture. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to fix you later when I have time,” He whispered to the little shattered figurine before leaving the room. Closing his door behind him, he made his way down, and he came upon a disaster.

His face looked shocked — where is Syraeia!? — and why did half the patrons look so unhappy? What was happening!? The man was not focusing on any faces in the tavern in particular but he quickly moved around the tables and people. A few patrons commented about not getting anything for the last however long while others were unbothered and didn’t even notice they hadn’t been served in quite some time. Everyone was being apologized to and orders were being brought out quickly.

That was until he got to a table with familiar faces, Jonathan and Joseph, “What is this?” Sunni sounded shocked while he looked at their table. “Have you two been drinking?” His voice raised slightly while his fingers and thumb began to rub at his brow and forehead. “Nevermind. Don’t answer that. You two enjoy the rest of your day off,” The filtering through emotions was somewhat intense as the boys had wide eyes as if they realized they messed up. Jonathan began to stutter. Joseph tried to explain. Sunni waved them off, “It’s fine. You two are fine. You don’t need to explain or apologize or anything,” Those words were clearly for reassurance though the boys didn’t look reassured at all.

Waving them off, he shook his head and walked off to the other tables. He noticed the royal guards from Lunaris and he approached them before he realized that they needed refills on their drinks and so on. Going up to the bar, he looked at the written notes and glanced at the guards as he spoke quietly to himself. Going around the bar and in the back, Sunni was able to pick up four pints of ale in one hand since they had handles along with the food tray in the other.
Moving around the place easily and quickly, he smiled at the royal guards, “I’m sorry if you have been waiting a long time for refills. Distractions happen here in Dawnhaven though we welcome you with the best hospitality that we can,” Placing the drinks down and the food. He made sure they were neatly placed in front of everyone and the platter was in the middle. “Enjoy. If you need anything or have any comments or concerns, you can come ask me,” Sunni smiled at them before moving away.

Going around and making sure a few of the last patrons had hot stew, drinks, and so on. By the time he got behind the counter, he was combing his hair with his hands in a stressful manner. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “Where is Syraeia?” He whispered to himself.

As he opened his eyes, he looked around the inn and was happy that everyone seemed to get their requested items. Leaning up against the wall and crossing his arms, he was determining if he wanted to drink or not, though it was only noon-ish. He couldn’t feed into the temptation of relaxing at the moment even if he wanted to do so, so badly. Sunni covered his mouth with his one hand as he observed everyone in the inn, being quiet, and just waiting for social cues to tell him where he should go or who he should help.

That was when he noticed he missed one person in the corner and he stared at her Elara… Why couldn’t Syraeia be here to do her job? Where was she?

An anxiety-ridden breath could be heard shakingly inhaling and exhaling behind his hand as he went into the back of the kitchen. He didn’t know what to do but he washed his hands out of something to ground him and his thoughts. Wiping them off on a towel and rubbing at his temples, “I… Shite… why does she have to be here… right now..” The man murmured to himself before opening his eyes. A huff of breath out and he came out of the back, went around to a few tables, and talked for roughly a moment. Everyone was happy with their current state.

Sunni walked up to the table where the woman who looked like a moon-touched goddess sat. “Welcome to the eye of the beholder, do you need help with anything? We have a decent amount of drink items and food at the moment,” He had said those lines way more confidently to others only moments ago along with being more of a salesman. The light underlying shake in his tone could show that he was nervous and he didn’t want to interact with the woman though he didn’t want her to be disappointed with the experience at the inn with the lack of structure that was happening. "My name is Sunni by the way," He smiled slightly goofy as he was trying to hide the storm of conflict inside of him. One hand was placed on his waist to the hip area while the other found itself in his pocket. The man was trying to not look uncomfortable by crossing his arms in front of his chest.


Mentions/Interactions
@PrinceAlexus Lunarian Royal Guards
@Qia Elara



Pleiades left the priestess by her temple and decided to move himself onto the stables' roof. His weight could be heard echoing down under. The noise would cause some horses to look up while others were unthreatened by the sounds. Amua seemed to perk up at the noises of footsteps on the roof and jumped to the nearest pole to latch on and begin her climb towards the roof.

Amua's interest in the weight caused Taru to prop himself up on his elbows. The darker-haired man looked up at the roof while following the weighted echoes with his eyes, “What do you think that could be, Amua?” he whispered while adjusting himself onto his feet and standing up.

By the time the man was up on his feet and ready to investigate, Amua was gone, and her tail could be seen disappearing out the window and going up. She was investigating whatever it was and Taur elegantly made his way across the rafters. He got to the window, secured himself, and leaned out to look above. Amua’s tail hung off the edge of the roof as she began to chitter with a noise of indifference. Possibly nervousness. “Come back down here,” Taru requested.

Is that your pet?” Pleiades questioned the semi-familiar voice as he walked closer to the edge which caused the giant squirrel to make a slight hissing sound before climbing down to Taru. The bare feet of the winged individual could be seen right on the edge while he looked down at the other person.

Taru seemed to stare for a moment, his dark eyes seeming to be stuck in thought, as one hand was against his chest to support Amua’s weight while the other hung onto the frame of the window. “I do not own Amua, Pleiades,” The man sounded indifferent upon seeing the blight-born.

Pleiades smiled at the man for remembering his name, “Taru,” He purred out while crouching down and staring at the man. “How are you on this lovely moonlit day?” He sounded more genuine towards the man than the average person.

The nomad sighed with a shrug of his shoulders, “It has been an uneventful day,” It was not necessarily good or bad. Just another regular day in Dawnhaven.

Do you want it to be more eventful?” Pleiades inquired while tilting his head and placing it in his hand.

Taru seemed to become suspicious, “And what do you mean by that?” His voice almost sounded negative as if he wanted to not even be curious about what the blight-born meant.

Pleiades shrugged his shoulders, “I’m hungry… starving practically and I cannot find anyone to satisfy me,” The winged man was hungry and he hated how small Dawnhaven was — not many to pick from and there was barely a handful of people that would take interest in helping out a blight-born that feasted off sexual energy. “And if you want to be compensated, I can pay you, Flynn enjoys giving me money for being the postmaster though it is quite a useless currency for me,” He offered while his hand stayed on his cheek and his other arm dangled from his knee.

Taru stared up at Pleiades with an almost serious intensity, “I do not need your earned currency,” Pleiades seemed displeased with such an answer and frowned in return.

Is that a no? You are being vague,” Pleiades hummed out those words since the man hadn’t told him no, not yet. His moonlit eyes watched as the man disappeared into the window with his giant squirrel which caused him to huff out while he stood up. No answer at all.

Pleiades decided to follow the man into the window and by the time he was entering into the rafters, Taru was almost back to his little room, which was somewhat hidden. “I do appreciate a good rejection,” He emphasized wanting to hear the word no — the winged man could be very persistent when not told no or flat out rejected.

Can’t you find someone else?” Taru looked over his shoulder while his feet were safely grounded on the floorboards of his semi-opened room.

The winged man shrugged at such a question, “I honestly tried, that little scholarly girl, Eris, that was ruined by the huntsman and Octavia’s right-handed woman. I went and bothered the new priestess that arrived but I couldn’t find it in myself to bother her about it. I think she would have let those guards roast me over a fire with their spears and swords,” He chuckled at his words while he elegantly made it through the rafters but he was not as smooth in the process as Taru was.

Taru shook his head, “Why not fly to one of the capitals? You could find someone,” The man said it as if it was an easy task — yes… six hours or so of flying depending on which way he went.

Pleiades groaned at the thought, “Just say no if you mean no,” The winged man was beginning to get fed up with beating around the bush. It was simple, no or yes, and depending on the answer, he would get out of the other man’s hair.

If I say, yes, you owe me,” Taru said with an annoyance in his voice.

A smile turned into a grin, “Anything,” Pleiades stated without hesitation while approaching the man.

Fine,” Taru said while facing the other man.

Pleiades grabbed his chin while looking into his eyes, “Is this going to be a demand or save for later, I-owe-you?” He was curious if the favor was needed more so now than later.

Taru seemed suspicious, “I’ll keep it in my pocket for now,” That was when he could feel the weight of the other man yanking on his long luxurious hair and pressing a kiss to his lips. Pleiades was impatient with hunger though he knew Taru wasn’t someone that requested softness in such a situation. Pleiades could feel the man’s hands press against his chest and shoulder for support.





New faces were appearing tonight. His moon-struck eyes lingered across the whitening grounds of Dawnhaven while the cool air brushed against him. This was peaceful, unlike the little group exchange he had in the square by the inn. Glancing over to the individuals still loitering there, he snarled in distaste and moved his eyes around the grounds more. All three of the individuals that surrounded Eris were able to ruin his attempts for tonight. She didn’t seem to be keen on him being there anyway. The attempt was a dead end before it started.

A sigh left his lips while his hand supported his chin while he observed Dawnhaven from a higher point. “This is boring…” he murmured to himself. Everyone in this damn town was bored. There was barely anything to do or anyone to do for that matter. Maybe he should fly back to one of the cities and have his fun there.

It was odd seeing the guards from Lunaris arrive and then a familiar face on a horse — he was pretty sure he had seen her in the Lunarian castle before. Was that a throne agent? Pleiades had no idea if it was but he was sticking to what his gut was telling him. It was another higher up from the King under the moon. How pathetic.

Then his eyes focused on a carriage as he watched it go to the Aurelian temple. His curiosity struck while his head tilted, “Did they finally send the pathetic worshipers of the sun deity to Dawnhaven?” He spoke softly in a purring hum as his eyes sharpened towards the quickly built temple as he watched from afar at the carriage and the people wandering around it.

Tia approached the temple, hyper aware of the attention on her - villagers eyeing the ostentatious procession, vigilant attendants waiting to receive directions from her… but Tia kept her gaze on the temple. A far cry from the shining white and gold behemoth in Aurelia’s capital, it was made of simple, unfinished dark wood. Tia found herself awed by it. The capital’s temple was undeniable in its power, its presence, more force of nature than a structure crafted by tradesmen. But this wooden structure… there was something undeniably human about it. Tia let her eyes wander the tiered roof, the conchoidal patterns of the window panes, the small, intricate decorations carved into the wooden beams. Someone had designed this. Hands had mapped out the architecture, cut the wood, chiseled the small flourishes of design, erecting something beautiful when not two months ago this had been nothing but forest.

Images of her own childhood flashed in her mind of the temple she’d been raised in after her first family had given her away. It had been even smaller, though it had been the nicest building in the village. Tia lifted a hand to run her fingers over a wooden pillar at the front of the temple. The grain was still slightly rough against her skin, not yet worn smooth with age.

“Lady Priestess,” a voice called from behind her. Tia turned from the temple to see the old coachman watching her. Attendants were already beginning to unload boxes of supplies from the carriage, apparently having received their orders. “The supplies we transported - some are designated for the temple stores, but the rest are marked for distribution throughout the settlement.” The church had loaded her carriage with supplies for the winter - grains, salt, new tools, blankets… a range of goods that would no doubt be needed for the coming winter. Tia was to present them to the prince as part of her introduction, possibly garner some good will, but…

She was just so tired. She was drained physically and emotionally from the journey, she was sore, she needed a wash -

“Shall we deliver them to the prince on our way out of Dawnhaven?”

Tia blinked at him - he was giving her an out. A sudden burst of affection bloomed in her chest. She gave him a small, thankful smile, and bowed her head to him. He gave one in return.

Turning back to the temple, Tia blinked back tears again, trying to swallow around her emotions - and her growing frustration with herself. She was too frayed at the edges, exhausted from travel. She needed to get herself together. She forced a long, slow breath. Suddenly the eyes on her, the movement and activity of the attendants as they worked, became overwhelming. She needed to escape, recenter herself, if she was to conduct herself in a way befitting her station.

Another breath.

Going inside the temple was out of the question, with the workers moving about to unload the supplies. She could… walk the perimeter of the temple. Yes. See where the window were, which direction the morning light would - nope. There hadn’t been morning light for six months. Ok, then she could…

She could stop trying to justify her own actions to herself when she knew she was just trying to find an excuse to not be seen by people in case she had a breakdown.

Tia turned and began walking around the outside of the temple to do just that.

His curiosity was getting the best of him as his eyes lingered for far too long on the small group of prophets… priests… holy people… or whatever else they were called. It was pathetic in his eyes that they were building temples in Dawnhaven, though the Aurelian royal family seemed to be all about the jewels, the appearance, and not anything more. Maybe it was his hardened soul speaking from a past life. The life of when he was human. Growing up was a hardship and when the sickness appeared… not even holy people cared to keep him company. He was too ugly and far too sickly for their concerns. He could remember the grotesque whispers of why anyone would keep him alive.

With a fluid motion, Pleiades was up in the darkened but moonlit skies, and he soared over to the temple. Landing on the top as the newcomer and her entourage followed her into the temple. Stepping around the top, he was admiring the structure of it, but he sighed while dropping from the roof as if he wouldn’t catch himself.

His wings extended while he gradually descended from the roof and his feet met the ground only a few paces from the carriage. One of the individuals that seemed to come with the woman gasped upon his appearance and he grinned — probably an ugly one from their perspective though anyone with unbiased eyes would see it was out of mischievousness. Curiosity. A lingering hint of friendly demeanor, “Salutations,” The man whispered out in somewhat of a lustful tone. He had such a naturally sultry voice especially upon whispered words. “I didn’t realize such individuals were arriving in Dawnhaven so soon. I would have made a gift basket or —” His shoulders shrugged at the thought. “something…” The man emphasized as he circled around the carriage once before looking at the door of the temple.

Stepping a few feet closer, he stopped, and looked over his shoulder, “Do you think I would burn if I stepped foot in there?” The humorous tone of his voice would have indicated he was playing though the religious disciples might take his words as taunting evil.

Or maybe I’ll step in and the temple will burst in flames,” Pleiades chuckled while grinning with his teeth slightly apart. It showed his slightly longer canines while he looked back at the entrance of the temple. He had seen better. Personally, he admired the water and reflectiveness of how the moon would shine down upon the Lunarian temples — he was biased. Growing up in Lunaris and everything.

The Aurelians seemed frozen as they stared at the newcomer.

Demon,” one of the soldiers spat at Pleiades, drawing his sword. The sound of metal scraping against the scabbard seemed to break whatever startled spell the rest of the men had been under, and suddenly the air was filled with the sound of shouts, more swords being drawn.

Tia hadn’t made it three steps around the corner of the temple before the cacophony reached her ears. Panic was instant as it shot through her veins. She darted back around the temple to see the men she’d arrived with all in varying states of distress, some trying to calm their compatriots, others pointing their swords at -

A Blight-Born. His back was to her, and he was partially obscured by the wooden pillars of the temple, but there was no denying what he was. Not when his wings, huge, feathered, and inhuman flexed behind him.

Tia didn’t think. Her body moved without her command as she ran, weighed down by her priestess robes, and she nearly tripped as she placed herself between the Aurelians and the winged Blight-Born.

She glanced at him for only a moment - just long enough to see his wings, his claws, his shining eyes - and a familiar, prey-like fear shot through her. Then she looked back at the soldiers and held up a hand to them.

Tia had been told, of course, that Blight-Born lived in Dawnhaven. But knowing that and seeing it, being so close to one, was another thing entirely. She tried to fight down the panic, her breath coming out of her lips in small, white clouds. She was hyper aware of him at her back, the scars at her neck seeming to burn beneath her scarf.

She met the eyes of the soldier who’d first drawn his sword and gave a small shake of her head, begging with her eyes that he stand down. They couldn’t afford to threaten the peace of the settlement.

The sound of silver and steel shredding against leather caused his brows to knit together and his moonlit eyes to sharpen upon the soldiers that accompanied the followers of the Aurelian religion. A guttural sound could be heard as his body tensed and his face soured — everyone was just a killer tonight. Be that of boredom or be that the intention to actually kill.

Pleiades took a side step before an overly pampered religious brat stepped in between them and he stayed silent. She wasn’t talking at all. — How odd — The thought crossed his mind as he heard not one peep out of her. She placed herself in between him and the guards and he truly did not know what to think about that. Then the feeling of anger began to boil in him. Didn’t they know that blight-born take oaths to not do harm to the citizens of the town? No harm in the sense of death or truly being chaotic to just be chaotic?

Taking a few more steps back, Pleiades didn’t care to find out how sharp their swords are, and he decided to be a little more gruff with his tone. “You better be careful threatening the people of Dawnhaven. Blight-born have been living peacefully here aside you humans so I doubt you would want to ruin that,” He informed them while his eyes glanced down at the woman standing in between them. “You know… you’re overly dressed. You are probably the main cat in all of this. Didn’t you inform your fucking guards about the innerworkings of Dawnhaven?” Pleiades was slightly offended that they drew their swords so fast at him. Just for being himself…

Tia’s head whipped around to look at him upon hearing the growl of his voice, a hand still raised to the soldiers. Her hair stood on end as he gazed at her, seeming to weigh her worth. She told herself she wasn’t trembling - that blood wasn’t leaking down her neck below her robes. His fangs seemed to catch the light of the moon.

Tia forced herself to stand taller.

My lady -

Tia’s eyes cut to look at the soldier, stilling his words in his mouth. Then she was again looking at the Blight-Born. The quick, short clouds of air betrayed how shallow her breathing was. Tia clasped her hands tightly in front of her legs, her long sleeves hiding how they shook, and bowed her head to him.

The soldiers seemed to hold their breath. Then finally, one by one they resheathed their swords.

Pleiades did not seem to care for the act that was happening in front of him — was it an act? Maybe. He wasn’t sure he should trust the religious folk and their guard from the Aurelian capital. It made him annoyed with Prince Flynn unlike he was before — was this how his people treated others? — Even after she bowed… he was interested in the possible facade. Knowing how people were with him before he was blight-born and after, it was hard to trust, and his expression was more negative than anything. It tried to hold some kind of neutrality to it though that was a failure in the making.

Is something wrong with you? Does a cat have your tongue?” The winged man looked down at the smaller woman with the question. His tone sounded condescending at best. His eyes would flick without pattern back towards the guards and if any of them shifted, he would, and depending on what they did. The man would step back, purposefully keeping a certain length in between him and the other individuals. Keeping enough distance so if he needed to spread his wings and fly away, he could.

Tia flinched back at his question.

You will not-” the soldier cut himself off as Tia angled her chin back over her shoulder towards him, her eyes still downcast.

She glanced back at the winged man again, daring to meet his eyes. Her lips pressed together. She didn’t break eye contact as she raised a shaking hand to slowly loosen the scarf at her throat until she could pull it far enough away from her skin. The winter wind was sharp against her as she revealed the pink, shining scars, nearly spanning the entirety of her neck..

“Yes.”

The word was a soft, broken rasp, nearly too quiet to hear.

A huff could be heard when the soldier began to talk again. The armed men butting in was getting slightly annoying but this is what you get if you want democracy. His wings adjusted to be in a more comfortable position since they were large and heavy. The tips were dragging against the ground when he walked. His eyes seemed to focus in on the Aurelian’s eyes as she became so serious.

When she confirmed that a cat had her tongue, a raised brow could be seen, but his face went back to a neutral expression. “So you can’t talk to me then? Not like him or her?” He gestured to the guards and other individuals that were on the other side of her.

Would you like me to get you a writing utensil and a paper?” Pleiades teased though he was being serious as he retrieved a small stick of charcoal that was wrapped in a paper peel so one could write with it and a little booklet.

Tia’s eyebrows drew together as her eyes flicked between his own and the small offering in his hand. He was… mocking her. She tightened the scarf around her neck again, hiding her scars. A new feeling buzzed through her - irritation. It was easier to deal with than overwhelming, petrifying fear, at least. But it wouldn’t do to offend him more than they already had.

After a moment of hesitation, Tia decided the diplomatic thing to do would be to simply take the gift at face-value. She raised both hands to take the notebook and charcoal, careful not to touch him, and gave another short bow of her head. She opened to the first page of the notebook and wrote a short message. Tia held it up to show him.

I apologize for their behavior. They’ll be leaving soon.

Seeing how her brows drew together along with the change in her demeanor, Pleiades understood that he must have offended her in some way, but he didn’t know if he should go about entertaining it or not. Did he want to expose that he could be nice to this individual? Then she took the notebook and charcoal writing utensil.

Looking at what she wrote once she was done, he nodded his head, “It is what it is,” He plainly spat out as if he was disinterested about this whole thing. As if there was no point in interacting with them at all.

Pleiades shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t mean to offend you by offering a booklet and writing utensil, but I rather be able to communicate with the person in front of me instead of not at all,” He decided to clarify his actions and offer.

Tia froze, heat creeping to her cheeks. As a child she’d always been told her face was too revealing. It seemed for all the times the priests had slapped her for her insolent expressions, she’d never quite learned her lesson.

She looked back at the winged man, eyes flicking down to his wicked claws, his pale skin, his eyes that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The breeze picked up, blowing whisps of blonde hair around her face. She reevaluated. A small, hesitant smile curved her lips.

Tia lifted the hand holding the notebook to tap it against her chest.

“Tia.” Her name was nearly lost to the night air.

The man shrugged slightly as if he was repositioning his stance to get comfortable while he stared at her. His expressions left too much to the imagination. They were neutral at best. “Tia,” He responded with a nod of his head as if he was saving that name for later. To remember it.

A sigh left his lips which showed in his demeanor, his chest was bare, since he didn’t need as much clothing as a human did. His shirt was stuffed into his bag since he didn’t want it on right now, crossing his arms, and looking at her. “Pleiades,” He spoke more gently than the gruffness he had for the soldiers. “Pleiades James Porter, the postal master here in Dawnhaven,” He added.

Tia’s smile grew as he introduced herself - but then she paused.

The postmaster.

She was required to report to the queen when - if - she learned anything about the prince and princess’ progress. Judging by the Pleiades’ wings, he’d be much swifter than any horse. But would he be suspicious of her letters? How was she to hide her intentions here from him - from the prince, from anyone in Dawnhaven? She wasn’t a spy or a thief, she was just Tia -

She cut herself off, her blood thick with unease - and guilt. Remembering her audience, and that she needed to work on controlling her damned face, she chanced a look up at him again. She offered a smile again, if a bit weaker than before. Tia opened the notebook again to scrawl a new message below her first. After a moment, she added another line to it.

It was very nice to meet you, Pleiades.

Thank you for this book.


It was somewhat eerie, the pause, though he took no mind to it. A ton of people paused at weird times when he was around so he chalked up her behaviors to him being a blight-born more than anything else. Their eyes met when she looked up at him and his expression was unchanged. The man could be described as a statue with how he was at times.

When his eyes met the pages, barely a stance of a smile curled at his lips, and he sighed. “Yes, what a pleasure to meet you too, Tia,” The man stepped away from the priestess and the soldiers. It seemed like all the interaction tonight was ending quite quickly — when would he be able to get to the forsaken cities again to have some fun? Why did the prince bring all the stuck-up Aurelians and why did the princess bring all the depressive Lunarians? This was so unfair. His wings spread out before gusts of wind would violate the other individual's clothes, hair, and skin. With that, Pleiades was gone into the darkened sky, but Tia… if she had an eye for anything would notice that the notebook that she was handed was not completely blank. There were little notes in beautiful penmanship along with very detailed sketches of people, animals, plants, or things.

Tia watched him fly away, briefly mesmerized by the sight. He was terrifying, to be sure, but… there was something ethereal about watching his wings unfurl, and glide through the sky.

She allowed herself a moment to watch him. Then Tia turned back to the Aurelians she’d traveled with, setting back to work.



Collab with @c3p-0h Tiagara




Pleiades could not help the chuckle that left his lips when he saw the fearful emotions on Eris’s face —- was she that terrified of him? What had she heard about him? Did she believe he was going to take what he wanted without proper consideration and consent? The man was hungry but he wasn’t starving. This circle of individuals was not going to give him anything and he was getting quite bored.

He might…” The blight-born shrugged his shoulders as if it didn’t matter in one way or another. He wondered if Sunni and Flynn were on the same page… they were best friends from everything that he had witnessed and heard about them. Was Flynn putting Sunni up to this? Telling the redheaded man to keep people away from the blight-born that needed to feed off sex? He wouldn’t be surprised.

Pleiades smiled when Eris asked how he was, “I am well. Exhausted but well,” Exhausted from the long flight here and the lack of food. He might have to consider going back to one of the cities to get food. That would keep him out of Dawnhaven for a few days, at least. “Thank you for asking, Miss Eris.

You’re welcome,” The young man politely replied before Pleiades began to make him uncomfortable — he was uncomfortable being around blight-born. He had heard all the different stories. All the horrible tales of what they would do to people. Mister Emberani gave him the rundown of blight-born that were established with Dawnhaven upon him and his brother's arrival. Jonathan knew that Pleiades was a sexual blight-born and the thought of that made him uncomfortable.

Pleiades moon-struck eyes glared at Eris when she spoke up to get his attention from Jonathan — Jonathan was not in his range of people to go after. He was barely a man and it would be such a pathetic situation to find himself in. Grabbing the boy’s chin, he smirked, “Well… I do enjoy making people feel good, Miss Eris. I can tell he’s uncomfortable with me though I have done nothing wrong. Children need to learn that when someone’s different. It doesn’t make them bad,” He pushed Jonathan away a little and the young man stumbled while rubbing at his chin and jaw where Pleiades fingers were placed.

The young man looked at Elara and nodded, “I-I could try, Miss Elara. I grew up in a blacksmith shop with my brother, so I don’t think we would be too good. I know that Mister Emberani knows how to knit and such. He likes yarn. He might know more people. He seems to know people’s skills around Dawnhaven,” The young boy got out before doing a slight bow. “I should go. I’ll see you all around,” The young man quickly went back into the inn with those words to go find his younger brother Joseph.

Plus, I had a singular person in mind that I —

MY FRIENDS! Kreztchimar nozemme jabool!

A groan could be heard from Pleiades as he stepped away from Eris. Putting gaps in between him and everyone else but not leaving. The man seemed unsatisfied when the bulkier blight-born approached and made his presence known. There goes all his plans to get anything from anyone tonight. Maybe he could find someone who was willingly going to be a cheap whore for him or something. He could feel the tenseness in his stomach and system for food. It was uncomfortable to say.

His eyes flicked at Eris when she went from referring to him as Pleiades to Mister Porter and he sighed. Then he seemed discontent when Ivor referred to him as Boird man and he nodded his head while thinking. “Yes, what a pleasure to meet you, Huntsman.” The sassiness in the blight-born’s voice showed that he was playing nice at this point and his body language showed that he didn’t want to be in any of those interactions anymore.

As everyone seemed to bring their attentions off from the boird man that was when Pleiades took his exit. Stepping a few feet away from everyone before threatening gusts of wind whirled around, stirred the falling snow, and he was gone within the shadows of the night. Blending right into the sky. Pleiades found himself perching up on another building — not the inn but the stables.


Interactions
@The Muse Eris & Pleiades
@BeastofDestiny Ivor & Pleiades
@Qia Elara & Jonathan (NPC)




A sound similar to a clicking knock kept echoing in the stables. It was coming from up above and in the rafters. Little bits of shadow here and there could be seen gliding against the walls where the moonlight emphasized the creature's form or how it caused the shadow to dance beyond a lantern light.

Phit.

Thud…

Thump

A jerky high pitch sound that would startle most caused a figure to stand up, “Amua! You better not be harassing those horses,” A sternness echoed in the baritone voice of a man who walked barefoot on the dirt. His weight could be barely heard on how he walked across the ground to the stable that enclosed a beautiful white horse. The larger beast was upset and startled from whatever happened and Taru’s black eyes met the beady brown eyes of the rodent. She was curled up on a rafter right above where the horse could get her.

Get down from there, now,” He ordered as the multi-colored rodent gracefully hopped from rafter to rafter before crawling down a post and jumping onto his shoulder.

Taru began to make a noise that sounded similar to how you would hush a young child. “Shhh. Shhh.” His tone was gentle while he put up his hands. “You are alright,” He confirmed as he opened up the door and gently reached out to cup the creature’s strong face.

The horse seemed to calm down when Taru used himself as a grounding tool. Unafraid of the larger creature. The horse's large eyes seemed to focus in on him, and he smiled contently, “See. Nothing was wrong,” Taru whispered with a gentle smile as he stroked the elongated nose of the horse. Gentle huffs and puffs could be heard from the beast while it was still leveling out its emotions.

Once he felt like the horse was comforted and calm, he stepped out of the area and closed the door. Fetching it a sugar cube, which it happily accepted. As he walked away, he glanced at Amua, “Now. Listen here, Amua. You need to not bother those horses. They have done nothing to you,” Taru lectured the giant squirrel as if she could understand him, and sometimes he truly believed she could. She listened fairly well to him.

Amua began to crawl around his vest. Inside and out. Rummaging for something she found the pouch that was strung to the reddish sash around his waist. She pulled at it in an attempt to open it up. No good. The rodent began to chitter and chatter more aggressively to get her human companions' attention. “Just a moment,” Taru answered her as he jumped up and began to climb into the rafters of the stables. He built himself a little platform in the stables where he was able to lay out a bedroll and keep his personal items. Climbing up there with ease, he let his legs dangle off the edge while he sat there. Grabbing the pouch and opening it up. Amua didn’t wait for him to grab anything out of it and her whole face was in that pouch in a second.

The furry little beast pulled her face out and in an unsurprising manner, her cheeks were filled with dried berries. A faint laugh left his lips which sounded more like a breathy huff than anything else. Nonetheless, it was a sound of amusement. “Are you proud of yourself?” He asked while the pouch was tightened shut. Amua spit some of the berries out into her hand and tried shoving the little handful of what she had into his mouth.

With a twist in his face, he leaned away, “You had that in your mouth. I do not want it,” Taru’s hand came up to block her attempts to try to feed him. A habit she seemed to constantly do. He was unsure if Amua thought she was his mother or whatever she had in her head but she was constantly trying to take care of him. She would try to force food into his hands and mouth. She would try to groom him. Constantly rummaging through his hair to see if there were bugs or whatnot. Whatever she was searching for. She would lick at his hands if they were dirty, especially with something that she liked the taste of — berries.

Cupping her midsection in his hand, he moved her over onto a small crate that had an unlit lantern. It had a few other things on it as well. Letting himself lie on his back, he glanced over to her as she was enjoying the dried fruits she was given. “You really like those silver berries, don’t you?” Amua looked over to him as she stuffed more into her mouth an echoing chewing sound filled the silence. “You know. If a human made that much noise while eating. They would be considered rude. You should be happy your cute and fluffy,” Taru reached out as he scratched at her belly and chest which caused a fluttering chitter of a sound to be let out before she crawled up his arm and sat on his chest.
𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕒 𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕣𝕚-𝔸𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕤


Princess Octavia was not outrageously oblivious to the events going on around her but she was in the dark about the bronze woman’s feelings and how her arranged husband was reacting to them. Before she could get another word out to Lord Coswain or the other guards, her husband interrupted, and she seemed to not know what to do for a second. That singular vocality of Brilliant caused the woman to step back and shut down. — Does Flynn not want me to say anything more? — She looked at his expression and tried gauging his reasoning for the little interruption, but she only let her face twist for a second before it fell to that usual blank expression.

When her husband stated that they would be on her way, Octavia glanced up and gave him a gentle smile before the expression faded. It was a forced reaction. Something that she was used to doing with her father. A smile meant nothing was wrong. That everything was fine. It was fine. Her eyes fell upon the floor as the thought of her sister’s letter came into her mind again.

The woman stood quietly while watching her husband interact with the man referred to as Wenyr. She didn’t do any of the acceptance of people into Dawnhaven, so she didn’t know anything about him, unlike her husband. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to participate in that process, but she was never asked to.

Octavia greeted his words with a smile, “We —” That was when she heard a door from the back slam shut and Sunni yell. She seemed surprised to hear the man raising his voice in such a serious way. That was out of character for Sunni, most of the time, and she had honestly never heard him get so loud while being so serious. He was always a jokester. “I believe we have found Sunni,” She smiled over at her husband. The merchant was the man that they were looking for, but he didn’t sound very… sunny.

Then she reminded herself, “Oh, before we go and see Sunni, I…” She found herself posing with her thoughts. How was she supposed to bring up this letter to her husband? Should her husband be the one around while she reads it? Maybe Elara would be a better candidate.

Uhh…” Octavia glanced at herself where the letter was tucked into an inner pocket of her outer clothing. “Nevermind,” A forced smile appeared on her lips. “We should go to Sunni…” She added as she didn’t want her husband’s attention to last on her.


Interactions
@The Muse Prince Flynn
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