WilsonTurner

Ashes to Ashes, a freeform Sci-Fi Fantasy NRP. (Always Accepting)

@Keyguyperson@Zadubadabu

Ashes to Ashes, a freeform Sci-Fi Fantasy NRP. (Always Accepting)

@Zadubadabu@Keyguyperson
What if one of Key's fleets warps to another system, and ends up right smack in the middle of the Hocklyn-Spear-Roa'marii negotiation shtuffs?

Ashes to Ashes, a freeform Sci-Fi Fantasy NRP. (Always Accepting)

...including the Dragon-Rider Festus and General...

@duck55223

Over the Ages Episode 1: All that Remains

Sorry I should have posted by now. My computer broke down and I'm on my phone right now. I'll get something up tonight or tomorrow.

@Polyurethane

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aulfr turned as Aleksandra emerged from the window. He slid his mastercrafted sword into its sheath, and glanced down at his attire at the same time she did. He sighed as she did, surprising himself with their synchronization. He mulled over that word for a moment- he didn't remember it learning it anywhere.

So he shrugged at little piece, replying, "Yeah, 'nother feast. Be there soon, and don't take so damned long next time with your hunts- if you miss a feast, people'll start talking. Deal with it."

Stepping towards the doorway, slipping a fifth knife into his fifth hiding place, he said by way of farewell, "See you."

He unlocked and opened the door, and exited a moment later, shutting the door. Turning around, he strode down the hallway, a guard falling in behind him, presumably ordered by his father as a sort-of escort if his usual escort- Aleksandra- wasn't there. His way of trying to say he still had power over him. As he turned down another hall, he felt his sixth sense tingling- a moment later, the even clatter of the soldier's plate-and-chain armor shifted, and Aulfr was pivoting to the side out of instinct.

The guard's sword slashed through the air, from a cut he started as he drew his sword, where Aulfr just was.

By the time the guard had recovered, and was starting to swing at the ridiculously dressed Aulfr, he had already whipped out a knife and thrown it.

The guard sputtered and cried out as he dropped, knife through the most obvious weakness- his helmet, or more specifically, his eye. Aulfr watched him go down, before calling out for the guards. Moments later, two soldiers rounded the corner to find Aulfr pulling the knife out of the guard's eye.

"He's a traitor. Toss him in the garbage, after you remove his gear." He gestured for the soldiers to do as he told them, and set off onwards to the feast.

Striding confidently into the feast- already a tad bit late from being fashionably late- stopped half of the occupants in the now-cluttered room. About six dozen people milled about, the closer ones turning to watch Aulfr stride in. The ladies were clad in similarly colored dresses of fine cloth, accented by gold or purple silk hanging from sleeves, bodices, and silk ribbons used to lace up their corsets and the like- not too terribly unlike what Aleksandra's first set of clothing here.

So apparently she's made a new fad. Good for her- it'll only help to increase their hatred and jealousy for her and her position.

He smiled and greeted his allies, smiled and crushed the hands of his frenemies, and bore through a dozen ladies and their attempts to seduce and/or partner with him in more than the usual manner. He took it all with the same smile, his eyes giving away approval, pleasure, or cold warning when required. Everything was about the eyes, here- even the brutes of the brutes kept themselves moderated. An armed society is a polite society- every single man had at least a sword, and every single noblewoman carried at least a small dirk in the open. It was not uncommon for one of the rougher nobles to be floored by the dagger of a displeased woman.

But no one wanted to risk Aulfr's prolonged attention, today. Already, whispers of an attempted- and quickly failed- assassination was spreading. Probably the servants- no one noticed the servants until they were at their elbow, saying something. And even then, usually not.

Eventually, he made his way up to his father's side, and stood in front of his chair, waiting for his escort to arrive. Meanwhile, he tortured entertained his father with the tale of nearly being assassinated by one of the castle guard. Proposterous, no? Aulfr made it clear that he'd have to start reviewing the guard, now, and replacing any suspicious soldiers with the newly trained Wolfguard- Aulfr's soldiers, that he had been training for some time now.

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aulfr slowly woke, registering something warmer and softer than his blankets as he did so. But why would there be...? He jerked awake, sitting up before he had even registered he was moving. He stared blearily at the gentle light coming in from the rising sun through his window, before everything cleared with military speed, and he glanced about.

Oh. That soft comfortable thing was Aleksandra. He stared at her, feeling rather awkward, and read a mix of emotions on her face- as if she wanted to scramble away and come closer at the same time. He didn't want to admit that he had a similar feeling, even though he felt his was less power.

So he made the decision for them both, and rolled out of bed. He stretched, ignoring his pet assassin, and then headed for his bathing room for a quick wash, disappearing through the door not a minute after he woke up.

Once inside, he turned on the thick pipe's tap. Letting the warm water cascade into the bowl, he stretched again, this time more luxuriously, and taking more time. As he waited for the bowl to fill, he put aside his thoughts in favor of the more familiar, more secure warm-up he usually did in front of his window.

Ink On Your Soul - New Beginnings

So my soulmate person hasn't posted in forever, and hasn't been on in a couple days. :/

You are sitting in the back of a cop car with the avatar above... (Game)

Great Potoos aren't owls. look it up.

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

He slid the lock back into place, the mechanism locking into place with a solid thunk. Repocketing the key, he turned to the bed, noting the stirring Aleksandra. He, briefly, allowed himself to admire what he knew she looked like, and the outline of her figure in the sheets.

Then he stepped back to his table, and began undressing, already putting her out of his mind. He tossed his shirt aside on the growing pile of laundry, still somewhat neat from his routine of dropping it in the same exact spot, draped his chainmail over the chair again, and then shrugged out of his second shirt, dropping it on the small pile of second shirts.

Ready to get some shut-eye after dealing with another training session and an attempted assassination, he slipped under the covers, intending to fall asleep as quickly as possible. He brushed against Aleksandra's smooth leg; he quickly adjusted so they weren't touching.

Then he stiffened, slightly, at the unexpected contact of smooth skin- regardless of scars, it was still smooth- against his rougher, none-too-clean skin. Then a hand, lightly laying over his upper arm muscles, and her curling up slightly against him.

For an extraordinarily long amount of time- five minutes or so- he pondered this. Because based on how quickly she went to sleep, compared to how guarded she was, compared to how much she hated him last time she was aware that she had snuggled up to him after too much to drink.

He wasn't sure if she was just starting to like him, or if she was planning on killing him. Either way, it made him nervous and uneasy.

You are sitting in the back of a cop car with the avatar above... (Game)

"Da squuaaaaawk!"