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Darkseeker
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Acilia | 23 | Female | Knight | Empire of Edyss Mentions: Ka and open Acilia starts remembering the event that happened all too quickly. She was memorizing everything in order from start to finish. Those words the man spoke to her sickened her. Something else was rattling in her head that she enjoyed hearing them. Oh hell no, he made her enjoy listening to them. Disgust, so much of it was all Acilia could feel. She was disgusted at the actions they did. She didn't say it. She had no reason to say it as she had no reason to. Her face and her eyes said it for her. This game went on a different course, and that course derailed the moment they met. It was the moment he pulled the dagger onto her throat. Acilia started it all, but now she can't take it back. Someone better end her misery after this. No. Someone kill him for this. Her cold-blue eyes locked on the man. Slowly, her fingers move to trace her lips that he kissed. He kissed her. She was too fixated on the situation to notice it. The realization makes her cheeks warm, but forcibly, Acilia shoves it down. She was used to people being too embarrassed to keep speaking with her after flirtatious encounters but never had she been the one to finish talking. "You," her voice trailed off, and she shut her mouth. Her jaw moved side to side as she ground her teeth together. Acilia was stunned and pissed to speak. Her eyes dart to his lips, hunger tracing her eyes for a split second before fading. No. It cannot happen. She didn't care about the dagger incident. That isn't important. None of it was. Her hands were trembling, and her heart was beating so loud it deafened her. Everything felt wrong, yet it was thrilling. Acilia couldn't fall into this masked man's charms. She didn't dare herself. So, this is what the game is like when someone equally experienced as you have similar stunts. Acilia will find that squire and strangle them to death. Now she shifted the blame on the curious and nosy pest of a squire. It's something she does occasionally, as you might guess. She was fearful as she ran out of people to blame. It's good. None of it was good. Acilia inhales sharply, calming her rampaging nerves, and forces herself to speak. Her fingers moved from her lips and touched her hip that held her second weapon. "Kagha, I presume." Her voice was shaky, "A pathetic name." Insulting him to bring back the lost confidence that slipped out. Kagha, a handsome name for a han-absolutely not! She will not compliment the fool in her head! That's absorbed! Preposterous! Instead of using the blade on him, she should use it on herself with her disgusting thoughts. Purge herself of the sins of complimenting. She did notice something, that dark little gleam in his eyes. Indeed, he was like her. "You seek no recognition, yet named after a powerful kingdom. Ironic. I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they've gotten themselves into, little wolfy. You're a soldier, boy. I can tell with the way you move. Unless you're an assassin or a spy." Acilia smirks, one of the devilish desires that snuck its way in. An assassin or soldier, probably both. Whatever the case may be, he's very skilled, and the way his hands mo-no, she was thinking about it again. She has to drown all of it away, does she? Acilia doesn't drink like that. She did a few times, and they ended in regret. Although, she prefers that regret to this one. "I'm sure we agree to disagree that we've both lost this round, wolfy. I have no fear for a lapdog. This game is still on, and I have no desire to end it." There, now no one has to admit defeat or victory. They're tied, for now, and she hates it. Acilia knows when to throw in the towel or a dagger. This time, she tossed the towel for both of them. She's doing it for their sake and the people around them. Her tensed body relaxes, allowing the thought of the round ending. "My thoughts on the se-," she was interrupted when he broke both of her heels and called out to him as she fell on top, "-you asshole, shitfaced bastard! I'll make you beg for me to end you quickly, dog-licker!" She spat, every hostile intention returning to Acilia. The woman forcibly adds weight to him, then sits up. She pulled the dagger from her hip and was ready to stab him right in the eyes. "I don't give a damn that you managed to trip me!" Punching him on the left side of his face, impacting with his mask. "THOSE SHOES WERE EXPENSIVE!" She screamed with fury, bringing the dagger to his face, but missed him by a couple of inches. Acilia was going to kill him for murdering something she cared about. If this man was ruthlessly going to butcher a pair of shoes, then he deserves no single ounce of little mercy she has. What's something equally cherished by the man? What is it that he adores the same amount as she does? She knows: his stupid, curse, mistake of a life! |
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Lightbringer
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Randolph Cornelius Thezmaer | 53 years | Male | King | Orin | Mentions: Zacharius, Kristopher, Mirian, Sori, Moriah, Mircea, Basil (ind.) Randolph crossed his arms and raised a brow at Zacharius’ strangled choked off laugh. He was pretty certain it was a cut-off laugh. His little maneuver hadn’t worked at all. “I guess we wouldn’t want to do that,” he grouched.” He nodded with a neutral expression perhaps still a little grouchy from before although he was grumbling about young people and their styles internally. And it had been made for the other brother. He barely registered the momentary gap in the conversation. He nodded respectfully greeting Kristopher. He didn’t mind not being announced all the time. It only mattered if he was the only one who wasn’t announced because he didn’t like to be left out. However, sometimes he liked to watch people awkwardly address him because they weren’t quite sure what his rank was. The description of Kristopher led to a piercing examination and comparison between the brothers by Randolph. The next part of the conversation confused Randolph as he hadn’t noticed the boots from earlier. He knew that Mirian was strong-minded enough that she wouldn’t want him intruding on the conversation. Although he was normally quick to jump into any kind of fight, he was still in his wife’s view, and she would be sure to give him an earful later if he did something wrong. Something finally clicked for Randolph. Not all of it, but the one obvious part. Hunting someone down was awfully aggressive. Did she really want to dance with this Lord Rosenberg so badly? Randolph did tense a little at Kristopher snubbing Miran. They were supposed to be forming a marriage alliance. He couldn’t have that. He relaxed when Kristopher named Sori as the better alternative. Although he thought that Kris was laying it on a bit thick trying to make Mirian feel bad. Quite unbelievable that the young man had such a strong opinion of his daughter already unless it was dislike. He could see that kind of opinion forming much quicker. As soon as he started complaining, he knew he would be getting “a talk” later with Moriah, but it did distract the crowd from Mirian. He stared at Zacharius trying to gauge his sincerity. If he leaped on his back, would the surrounding guards think he was attacking or would it be alright? His little brain took a moment to calculate how others would view this and how much they might think he was lazy. He didn’t even worry about them thinking he was crazy. He hopped on and began to crawl for Zak’s shoulders. He hoped there wouldn’t be low doorways for him to bang his head. Once he was securely seated (he couldn’t call this comfortable) he had the odd thought that he hadn’t done something like this since he was a single-digit age. He announced, “I was hoping for a nice stretch after sitting in a carriage, but of course.” He put his hand dramatically on his heart. “I’m always,” he emphasized, “willing to whip someone into shape.” Now that he was up there, he took stock of the situation. If he felt like falling the only way for him to hold on was with his thighs strengthened from horseback riding. However, he knew that strangling Zacharius would not be a favored way for him to stay on. The other option was to grab onto his head, but he didn’t see that as a reasonable option either. “Mmm, we’ll see about that smooth ride, won’t we? I don’t see horses going up stairs.” He was sure those would make a bumpy ride, and it would be critical that he didn’t fall off there. Was it weird to ask if Zak would hold on? Or should he gently threaten him with strangulation as his method of staying on? “If I end up going over backward, I may choke off your air supply, so I better not fall.” He said it in a medium tone. It wasn’t meant to be particularly threatening. Just an old man trying to avoid extra bruises or even broken bones. He stared at the portraits as they went by. Shocking how ugly and stern they were. Oh, wonderful! Zak’s ancestors were valiant heroes. Of course they were if they were being memorialized in such a public area. Somehow Sori was able to force out a compliment between her lips. That ending to the popular story. It almost sounded like she was picking on Orinians. Monsters. Sheesh. What was the point of the story she had told? “When I was a kid, that story got me down to my soul. I just had to find the Nyxko. I think I was twelve or maybe thirteen and I went out into the woods to search for it. I thought it would look pretty cool, and I liked going in the woods.” He knew that people would have a hard time taking him seriously as long as he was up here for the ride, so he decided to try not to talk about anything serious. Oh lovely! Lord Rosenberg who had two little princelings defend him had heard the same story. What a lovely surprise and coincidence! Wait. Hadn’t he heard something about Mirian attacking him for being a foreigner? Kaghans hadn’t been out in the world too much. They shouldn’t have heard an Orinian story…right? Or was he crazy? He was getting grouchier. By this point, his rump was starting to get numb. Lord. Lord Rosenberg. Not your highness or some other similar title, but Lord Rosenberg was being so kind as to allow a princess to call him by his first name. This just got better and better. Who did he think he was? Equals. Pah. Not equals, especially since one of his daughters might be ruling here. Perhaps he’d suggest Mirian just to get revenge on the whole lot since they didn’t seem to like her. “What’s the point of flowers if you don’t pick them and put them behind someone’s ear?” Randolph grumped some more. When flowers were around, he tended to pick one and put them behind Moriah’s or one of his daughter’s ears. It was a habit that annoyed them. He never did it well. It would stick them and become itchy. If one of them wasn’t around, he had been known to put a flower behind his own ear. As they headed outside Randolph felt attacked by the sun. Going from the cool dim of the castle to the bright outdoor garden caused Randolph to sneeze and to sneeze again. A little spray went in all directions and he couldn’t even mumble out an apology. “Pardon me,” he instinctively said once the attack was over. "Do you mind?" he asked Zacharius. "I'd like to see this gardener in action. Dame Edrys, hand a nice bloom to Zacharius here or maybe Rosenberg over there." He called him Rosenberg, because he didn't believe he had heard his first name. "or even Kristopher over there." If they were going to attract an angry gardener then Kris the insulter could get the brunt of the displeasure." Put it behind his ear if you wouldn't mind." He straightened further keeping his eye out for the aggressive gardener. Did he blend into the garden? Would he sneak up? How would he deal with so many intruders? |
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Neutral
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Mirian Orianna Thezmaer 23 | F | Princess of Orin | Mentions: Mircea, Edrys, Moriah, the rest of the group indirectly “...most exquisite, and distinguished women… Her majesty Princess Sori.” Heat suffused Mirian’s body at the prince’s barb, a raging flame fed by the twin fuels of fury and humiliation. Her cheeks were no doubt twin spots of red, and once again Mirian cursed the gods for giving her a body that betrayed her inner emotions so easily. She was about to open her mouth to respond to the foreigner comment (she had never said being a foreigner was bad, hadn’t even implied it, the emphasis on foreigner had simply been an attempt to provoke Lord Rosenburg into speaking on his past, plus she was grateful not to be a native of this harsh, treeless, and absurdly sunny land) when Lord Rosenburg decided to chime in as well. "If a Princess could act so unrefined and uneducated I wouldn't have expected it to be the eldest princess of Orin. Your manners are simply deplorable." If Mirian had been hot with anger before, now she was practically ablaze with outrage. She stepped in close to the man, grateful that for once she was roughly the same height as the person she was addressing. “You forget yourself Lord Rosenburg,” she hissed. “My manners may be deplorable, but at least I know better than to insult visiting royalty above my rank to their face. Were we in Orin I would be within my rights to take your head.” Her voice was low, the words meant only to travel the few inches between her mouth and Lord Rosenburg’s ears. “Consider yourself lucky I have enough manners that I won’t gut you here and now.” She stepped back and addressed the rest of the group “Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind on the rest of the tour. I believe I have seen all I need to see. And of course, someone has to stay and keep the Queen company.” She walked towards the back of the group where Dame Edrys stood with her squire, coming up right next to the shorter woman and bending her head down to murmur in the woman’s ear: “Keep my family safe Dame Edrys. I would protect them myself, but the longer I stay on this tour, the likelier it is that blood will end up being shed. Stay quiet, but remain alert.” The order issued, Mirian swept back down the hall to her parents’ rooms, the group apparently having not even gotten out of sight of the doors before Mirian nearly killed someone. Inside, the rooms were ornate and comfortable, as befitted royalty. However, it seemed like every single room had enormous open windows that had allowed the scent of salt to settle into every grain of wood and every fiber of cloth. Mirian eventually ended up shutting herself into one of the giant wardrobes that had been provided for clothes storage just to get away from the smell of the sea, since even the bloody bathrooms and closets seemed to have windows. She had thought that being surrounded by wood might help her to forget where she was, but the damnable scent of the sea managed to seep into her refuge all the same. She brought the hem of her skirt up to her nose, hoping the fabric still carried the scents of the forest in Orin. The gods must have figured they owed her one, because her wish was granted. Mirian could feel her heartbeat slowing as she breathed in the scents of pine and cedar, wildflowers and leaf mulch. Slowly, the riot of emotions that had been swirling within her began to calm. But as Mirian lay curled inside the wardrobe, she became aware of a constant shushing sound. She tried to tone it out, but the noise was persistent. With a grumble, Mirian emerged from the wardrobe, blinking against the abrupt change in the light. She was going to find what was making that noise and kick it with her metal-toed climbing boots until it stopped. She followed the sound to the window, but saw no people or objects that might be the source. The only things outside were the waves of the ocean and the sand of the beach. The waves. Gods damn it all, as if the ocean wasn’t insufferable enough I can’t escape hearing it either? Mirian was ready to scream in frustration. She swept back through the suite of rooms, scowling until she found her mother resting in the sitting room with a few guards at each possible entrance. “Mother, I’m sorry but I can’t sit in here any longer. The sound and smell of the ocean is making it impossible to relax, so I’m going out to find whatever passes for a garden in this blasted land.” Her mother frowned, but seemed too tired to try and dissuade her daughter. “Very well Mirian. But don’t think I didn’t notice how upset you were when you walked in here. I hope I don’t have to remind you that we are here to make allies, not enemies.” The warning given, Queen Moriah closed her eyes and dismissed Mirian with a wave of her hand. Oh you don’t have to remind me, Mirian chafed as she closed the door and entered the hallway. Sori already has the “Don’t cause a diplomatic incident front” covered. She’ll probably bitch about my “behavior” today for the next three nights we spend here. But thinking about Little Miss Perfect was a good way for Mirian to become the opposite of calm, and that was not what she had come out here for. “You and you,” she called, pointing at one Kaghan guard and one Orinnian guard who were standing outside of Mirian and Sori’s rooms. “Take me to whatever garden is furthest from the sea in this palace.” The Kaghan guard hesitated for a moment, probably unsure about taking orders from a foreign royal. Mirian rolled her eyes before saying as sarcastically as she could: “Or I can find my way myself. Who knows what state secrets I might uncover while roaming the castle unsupervised.” The guard stiffened sharply before walking down the hallway in the direction the tour group had disappeared down. “This way your Highness.” Mirian stifled a groan and prayed desperately that she wasn’t headed to the same gardens that the tour was. But Mirian couldn’t think of anywhere else to go that she could calm down, so she reluctantly followed the Kaghan guard, the Orinnian guard close by her side. |
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Neutral
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Edrys Kolsvalk 22 Years || Female || Knight || Orin || Mentions: Orin Royals, Kagha Royals, Kazimir Edrys was silently lost in thought. Her expression and body movement said otherwise, but the Knight was good at making the outside world think different. Was this.. truly their best option? Siding with Kagha? Granted, rumors are rumors, and as one of the more respected Knights of Orin she should have know better than to believe silly white lies, but she couldn't help but take them into consideration. From what she heard, witnessed, and observed, sometimes she truly believed not all of the rumors were lies but had a truth to them. Then again.. all rumors have a sense of truth to them, how else could they could be created. All one must do is find te truth, and twist it left and right, down and up, and there you have it.. a rumor. Who knew? Maybe Kagha was not what it seemed, maybe they were all kind, loving, sweet darling things.. almost like rabbits in mid morning. Or, they could have been savage crows, lurking in the shadows, waiting for any sort of chaos to occur, and feed upon the ruins. Edrys couldn't decide whether to believe them or not, all she could do was stay neutral, and take both ideas into consideration. Then, she would decide whether to act or leave it be. Only time would tell. The Knight's thoughts were interrupted as she heard a pair of rapid foot steps, well created shoes clacking the ground beneath them. Princess Mirian. The woman was walking towards Edrys and Kazimir, dipping her head down to murmur something into her ear. “Keep my family safe Dame Edrys. I would protect them myself, but the longer I stay on this tour, the likelier it is that blood will end up being shed. Stay quiet, but remain alert.” Oh my. It seemed that the Princess was rather upset- and planned on leaving the tour to go do someting else. Edrys would escort her away, but as the Princess spoke, she was told to stay here with the Royal Family. The Knight couldn't do anyting but nod her head, murmuring in response, "Yes, your Highness. I won't let any soul harm them." As Edrys spoke, the Princess walked on, out of the woman's line of sight. Whispering to Kazimir, she asked, "Go after the Princess, she mustn't be alone. I do not trust these walls, and so shouldn't you. Hurry." She glanced to the Prince and his Personal Knight, eventually staring at the duo. Did they offend her Highness? Yes, they were no longer on Orinian lands.. but that gave these people no right to talk to any Royalty in any ill manner. Gritting her teeth, the woman looked away from the two, staring downwards, her ears listening to every shuffle, every ounce of movement. Even the wiggling of people's toes.. she'd hear them. "I'd like to see this gardener in action. Dame Edrys," Glancing over to the King, she kept herself still, keeping her breathing fague. Everything mattered to a king, his subjects appearance, personality.. all Kings expected the best from their subjects, whether royalty or not. Edrys wouldn't want to be caught dead looking foolish in front of the king. "hand a nice bloom to Zacharius here or maybe Rosenberg over there. Or even Kristopher over there." Edrys wasn't entirely listening to the entire conversation, so she was quite puzzeled as to what stirred up those certain questions, but she didn't falter. The Knight slowly dipped her head, and slowly moved her legs, walking into the direction of a petite bush that held crimson red roses.. it reminded her of spilt blood, and her eyes almost gleamed at the thought of it. Along the petals, below its head, dark colored thorns reached outwards, curling downwards. The tips looked oh' so very sharp, and if one were to grab them with a bare hand, one would most certainly prick their finger and blood would trickle down its stem. " Put it behind his ear if you wouldn't mind." Aha- what. Standing silent, the woman processed the King's request. She did not want to hand any Kagha resident a flower, let alone behind their ear like some.. who even would want to do that? A deceased flower just perched against your ear. Not even Edrys would think the King would request such a thing. But she was in no place to decline the order, and walked up to the Crimson Roses. Reaching into a pocket hidden within her fur cloak, she pulled out a single leather glove, placing it over her right hand, sticking her hand into it, the soft leather carefully sticking to her skin. She pulled it to her wrist, and wiggled her fingers, retracting them and out. Edrys looked to the darkest of the roses, and reached for it, wrapping her fingers around the stem, about 2 or 3 inches away from the head, and plucked it off of the stem quickly. There were 3 thorns sticking out from the stem, 1 large, visible, painful thorn and 2 soft, undeveloped stubs. She glanced to the Prince, an idea sparking quietly within her mind. Rubbing her fingers on the stem, seeming as if she destroyed the thorn on the rose, the Dame walked over towards the Prince, her eyes locked onto his with a blank expression. Walking up to him, she stared up to him, sighing quietly at the difference in their size. She looked.. so.. so small, it was so sad. She wasn't that small of a person- damn. Lifting up the rose, she placed it onto the Prince's head, hiding the stem behind his ear, and twirled the rose over, hiding the thorn behind his ear, pushing it up against his soft skin. I hope it is to your liking. The color may just match your blood. Edrys smiled faintly, and dipped her head, taking a few steps backwards, standing beside King Randolph. The Knight was hoping the King didn't see the thorn, she did her best to hide it from plain view. |
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Neutral
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Zacharius Venturi 26 :: Masculine :: Prince of Kagha :: Mentions: Mircea, Kristopher, Orin Royals, Edrys, Acilia, Kagha [dir], Basil, Salen, Nikolas, Kinga, Mirian [ind] Zacharius gained a haughty expression when Kristopher shot back at him. Kristopher knew Zak’s pressure points like the back of his hand. ‘SmAlLeR bRoThEr’ my ass. I’m only one inch shorter than you, you cunt. Kristopher knew Zacharius’s dilemma with his younger brother being one inch taller and exposed the hell out of it. He turned back to the Orin royals and shook his head with an empathetic expression taking over his face, the same kind of expression someone would give to an ill person. “You don’t need to sympathize with him, he’s had a malnutrition ever since he was young,” Zachairus pointed out Kristopher’s one mistake in his teasing- admitting that his arms were too small. “It really altered our roughhousing because of how delicate and twig-like his arms were when we were younger-“ Before Zacharius could continue the onslaught, Mircea put his heel down and began talking about Salen. Pshh, Salen isn’t here right now, let us have some fun with these guys. Zacharius begrudgingly acknowledged his mannerisms and simply shot Kristopher a certain finger, hiding it under the guise of scratching his nose. He managed to be sneaky about it, even though his cocky stare at his brother was obvious. “If a Princess could act so unrefined and uneducated, I wouldn’t have expected it to be the eldesr princess of Orin. Your manners are simply deplorable.” Zacharius was hoping to prevent Mircea from saying such a thing, but it seemed as though he failed in doing so. It seemed that Zacharius wasn’t the best at playing peacekeeper, because Mirian was quick to start seeing red. He had an urge to prevent her from walking up to Mircea, but he instead let them be. It was obvious that Mircea didn’t want him coming between them anymore. Welp, they’ll just have to end up fighting to the death then. I tried. I really did. Zacharius started coming up with sincere excuses to tell Salen, preparing himself for when she found Mircea and Mirian strangling each other in their ball gowns. Mirian muttered something to Mircea that was too incoherent for Zacharius to eavesdrop on, so the only thing he could do was watch as Mirian left the group. His eyes stayed on the eldest princess until she was out of sight. Who went and shoved a stick up her ass? He looked back at Mircea, wanting to ask him about what Mirian said. Mircea and Zacharius grew up with similar rules, so he expected Mircea to be able to refain himself well. At least, better than the princess. Keep your wits about you. Never take it personally. Always proceed with caution. The words of his advisors rang through his ears daily and were permanently glued to the back of his mind. He was taught how to handle haughty nobles and entitled council members. He was taught endless hours of etiquette and how to snake your way around a mind with just a few smooth words. Since he was to be the future King of Kagha, this was expected of him. One falling out with his council would lead him and his kingdom into peril, and that would be a weight he’d have to carry. Those who raised him prepared him for that. Not to mention the constant nagging that he had to go through about finding a wife, which not even his father ever seemed to give up on. Honestly, the thought of having children scared him to the core. There were multiple reasons for this deep-rooted fear, and although justifiable, he didn’t want to think any deeper about them. He knows it’s his duty to carry on the Venturi line and produce heirs of his own, and he tries to suffocate that knowledge by procrastinating. He’s proud to be the heir, but at the same time, Zacharius has caught himself wishing that one day, someone would best him in battle and release him of his worries. He was closing in on his 30s and still bore an infamous history of not being able to keep a relationship going for more than a week. He knew his parents would pester him sometime soon, so the only thing he could do was enjoy his few moments of freedom that he had left. A strangled sigh released from him as he tried to move on from his own thoughts. Though they were quickly replaced by a certain air of guilt and dread when Sori mentioned Markus Venturi. “He sounds as if he were an honorable man and a noble warrior,” The words were meant to be a compliment and possibly met by a boastful prince, but Zacharius stayed quiet. His face remained neutral, but his eyes darted back to the portrait of Markus that they were passing. All that was held in those golden eyes of his was remorse. was sent to battle to die in a hopeless, barren battle that was meant to sharpen his skills. To dull his morals. To earn his titles. All the while still being a child. So, no. He didn’t get to reach the age of a man. He… “He was just a boy,” Zacharius muttered, finishing his thoughts audibly yet quietly. Fortunately, Sori provided a good distraction with her tale-spinning. Zak hastily regained his composure and refused to falter or feign any signs other than interest when he listened to Sori talk about a fabled legend. When Mircea piped in, he couldn’t help but feel reeled into the imagery of the creature. A smile tugged at his lips when they finished. “Sounds like you Orinians like to scare your kids shitless,” Zak let a half-hearted chuckle loose as the tensions died down. Though, he could never really rest easy, could he? Zacharius felt himself tense back up at Mircea’s additional comment. We are all equals. Mircea may be the son of a duke and a renowned knight, but even Zacharius knew that that line was worthless in a room that hung by a thread solely played by hierarchy. Sure, on the bigger scale, everyone was equal. But in a room full of royals, whose lives have been enslaved by the constant title they bear, and the rules they must uphold in a constant, equal wasn’t a word to describe them. The word equal held a similar air as ‘the same’ which irked some kind of bubbling feeling that began to sizzle in Zacharius- a feeling that he was vaguely familiar with, yet confused about at the same time. Not exactly frustration, and not humility either. In this world, your title is what defines you. Zacharius repeated those words in his head, which were also one of the many things and sayings that were burned into him at a young age. One again, his train of thought was cut short by Kristopher’s advance on Princess Sori. Mircea’s little retort about Kristopher’s dance style made it hard for Zacharius to suppress a foolishly toothy grin. Kristopher danced like there was no tomorrow, and all he could think about was Kristopher flinging Sori around the ballroom as she struggled to keep up with him. “Well, won’t those two be the life of the party,” Zacharius said in a foreshadowing tone aimed at no one in particular as if he was narrating a story. That’s when he felt hands on his shoulders and a sudden weight. Zacharius let out a surprised noise that sounded somewhat like a dog’s whimper and an exhausted horse, the noise was surprisingly light and loud, given his usual deep, rumbling tone. He didn’t expect the guy- the king to hop right on him. Sure, Zacharius was determined to keep any promise, but he didn’t actually intend for the king to be so bold. For a moment, Zacharius couldn’t register or calculate the situation that unfolded until the king was settled on his back. His eyes were wide with both shock and amusement. How- why- when in history had this ever happened? Instinctively, Zak grabbed and lightly pushed King Randolphs heels upward to better support the guy when he felt him slipping. Now, he knew Kagha was separated from the rest of this country’s society, but there was no way everyone was as outlandish as this man. With a big, dopey smile and a loosely hanging jaw, Zacharius looked to Kristopher and Mircea as if saying; did you see what just happened? What would Salen think if she walked in on Zacharius, the heir to the throne, piggybacking the king of Orin, their esteemed guest? He knew things got weird whenever he was around, but this was definitely a foreign and new scene. When the king so comfortably continued an idle threat, Zacharius straightened his posture and grasped onto the calves of the man to better support him. If Randolph didn’t care about hopping on Zacharius’s back, then he for sure wasn’t lying about the whole strangling ordeal. He managed to close his mouth, but the grin plastered on his face still stretched from ear to ear. What would Mother and Father say if they saw me treating a guest like this? Father would probably be proud… Mother would probably tear me a new one. If Mircea was worried about what Salen would do to Zacharius before, then he was probably already putting the nail in Zak’s coffin now. Salen was probably still in her room, and the King and Queen of Kagha would probably be heading to the ballroom right about now… or still talking about the terms of the alliance with each other. He had time to mess around before he got caught. On the bright side, if he did get scolded, he could throw Mircea and Kristopher under the bus. Zacharius glanced up at the old man hoisted on his shoulders. He had a sarcastic urge to ask the king how the weather was up there. Alas, no words left his mouth. Whether it was shock-induced or simply him being in awe, Zak couldn’t tell. The prince was now visibly giddy. The sheer adrenaline that was rooted from his jubilation made the roughly two-hundred-pound meat bag on his back feel a little less heavy. Zak quickly found his strides and regained a speedy gait, now walking with his back to the rest of his group to carry Randolph easily. On his way to the garden, Zak caught a few confused, worried, and amused stares from the guards. He swore he could hear some maid or servant snickering as they passed by. “You made this sound like it was a struggle, your Majesty,” Zak cockily boasted, striding gracefully with the old man on his back. "Basil won him over with a flower crown and genuinely being a ray of sunshine. Zacharius would deny it, but he would do anything for the kid.” Zak humiliatedly pursed his lips and gave Mircea a tilt of his head. Even with the mask on, one could read those expressions like a book. What Mircea said was true, but still. That hurt his pride just a little bit to hear it coming from Mircea- and to know that the royals heard it too. “His flower crowns are bewitching…” Zacharius tried to defend himself with a mumble but soon gave up as he strode down the corridors. Finally, with the swift turn of his heel, Zacharius entered the garden. Sunlight immediately illuminated the massive opening in the castle, and Zak was hit with a wall of pollen. It seemed like Randolph was hit by it too, because he could hear the continuous sneezes followed by a polite pardon. Now that Zak was properly dosed in the king’s sprinkler-like sneezes, he was able to take in the beauty of the garden. Flowers of all kinds were thriving here. It was as if every color that Zak had ever seen was in this garden. From roses to poppies and orchids to lilacs. The range of flowers always left Zacharius in awe. The distant sound of a water fountain trickling near the center of the garden traveled swiftly on the sound of wind whooshing against flower petals. As Zacharius was taking in his surroundings, he couldn’t help but notice a certain flock of butterflies gravitating toward something. He followed their trail and watched as they perched on his hair and dress one by one. Mircea was talking, but all of his words came out as if they were spoken in a different language. Watching Mircea was like watching some heavenly descent come to grace these mortal plebians with their presence. He looks more like a Goddess than a dude. A dude- that’s your best friend. Who is also not into guys like your questionable ass. “And if you look to your right, ladies and gentlemen, you can see a wild fae roaming the garden. Kagha has it’s legends too,” Zacharius teasingly pointed out whilst making a callback and motioning to Mircea once again. Before he could let any more retorts form, he heard the voice-which was above him, speak out once more. “I’d like to see this gardener in action.” The king asked his knight to hand either Zacharius, Kristopher, or Mircea a rose. This guy just loves chaos doesn’t he? Zacharius didn’t notice Dame Edrys nearing him until she was only a few feet away. Momentarily, he was shocked and confused as to why the woman would give him the flower- out of the other two that the king had offered. Didn’t this woman dislike him? For ‘staring’ at her squire for a fraction of time? Zak rose a brow in mild disbelief as she got even closer. Only now did he release just how short she was. Even though the dame could probably reach his ear without his help, Zacharius leaned down to where he was face-to-face with the dame. Only then could he see the long, deadly thorn poking out of the stem. You conniving son of a bitch. It was too late to pull back now, so all he could do was commit to the act. If you want to play dirty, I’ll play dirty. A flirtatious glint crossed his eyes as Dame Edrys stuffed the rose behind his ear, twisting it just enough to poke and pierce his skin. He could feel a slight droplet of warmth protrude, but it was well hidden by his inky black hair. The small compacted source of pain didn’t bother him, as he had a goal in mind now. Before the dame could retract her hand entirely, Zacharius caught her wrist with his own hands and held a firm yet gentle grip. One that wouldn’t be so easy to wiggle her way out of. “Aww, Dame Edrys, have you taken a liking to me?” His smile was charming, his voice was soothingly deep and he held an air of temptation around him as he playfully tilted his head at the woman before releasing his grip on her wrist and returning to his full height. He was excited to see if and how the dame would play along. Zacharius was only able to relish in this satisfactory moment for a few, brief seconds before he spotted a similar figure pressed against the outskirts of the garden. Was that... Zacharius squinted and confirmed his suspicions. "Commander Kagha, fancy seeing you h-," Zacharius only just now spotted the silvery, taller figure pressed up against the well-known commander. Not just pressed up- but on top. You already said his name, it's too late to pretend like you saw nothing. "I didn't take you for such an... amorous type of guy..." Zacharius rose his brows, staring down the couple. They seemed hostile yet lustful. An odd combination, but hey, he didn't want to go prying into Ka's kinks. Hell, the mere thought of such things made Zak's eye twitch. Zak let out an exaggerated sigh, looking at anyone who'd spare him a glance. "Lover's quarrel," |
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Darkseeker
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Kagha
Twenty-Four || Male || House Talmeren - "The Pale Bear" || Kaghan Commander || Acilia, Basil, Zak, Mir (ind)
Acilia was visibly disturbed by the actions they both had to... partake in, he could tell. Not only was she disturbed, but she was disgusted, too. From the people he was typically around, he knew what disgust meant; they didn't enjoy something, or, alternately, they simply didn't want to admit that they did. In her case, he figured it was the latter, and the latter he could use to his advantage. It'd been a long time since he was around women, so he may have taken his façade a little too far- especially considering that he'd nearly lost himself to her deceptive charms- but he was satisfied with the way his wits had won, seeing her face so stunned into silence.
His eyes followed her fingers as she moved to trace her lips. He was not fascinated, no, but by how shocked she was, it was unlikely she'd been in such an... active embrace before. People like her only taunted and then left others in want, not succumbed to their own personal desires. If he was right, his was likely among the first of her experiences with such intimacies. She looked rather uncomfortable, really, aside from the seemingly typical show-no-emotion visage she wore along with her mask. He tried, and failed, to smirk at the dazed look on her face. "Yes, me. Are you surprised, little lion?" His smirk only broadened as he saw her eyes flick down, knowing he had the upper hand in the matter. She was trying to best a man who'd been navigating court his whole life... she would be lucky were she to beat him. Her hands were trembling, and, being as close as he was, he could feel her forcing her fingers not to shake. It would be endearing, really, had he felt much for the woman. True, his heart was racing and his eyes studying her own, but he felt... very little. Did he? In truth, he wasn't sure, but there was one thing he knew: she had hurt one of their castle servants. She had tried to manipulate him, tried to get him to lower his guard so as to let her go, attempted to save her own life by threatening his. Being seduced by a woman such as herself wasn't a viable option at the moment. His arms reached for the hilt of his sword as he saw her reach down for what he presumed was a weapon. When you were a knight, a commander, you didn't have time to look around and know. You had to assume that someone was a threat. If you didn't, you'd be found dead mere days later. "Oh, is it now?" His mouth quirked up, eyes flickering as he listened to her speak. He pulled her face close, close enough that he could feel her warm breath on his face. "I'm sure, given a different introduction, you might've said otherwise." Turning her taunting persona back on her, he pulled himself away as he studied her shaky expression. She'll learn not to play her game of cat and mouse with someone like me. He noticed a darkness, a glint of malice, in her eyes as he watched them. She was like him; that was certain. She had already told him that she was a knight. The way she talked, it wouldn't be difficult to unravel her secrets- for him, at least. He found himself exploring his effect on her. It wouldn't be hard to use it, to manipulate her just as she had tried to him. "I suppose you'll have to find out, now, won't you? You've made a mistake, little lion, telling me who you are. You'll regret that." He merely smirked back at her, not bothering to tower over a woman in heels. If he bothered and failed, it'd show he was pathetically desperate. He wasn't about to do that.
"So you believe you've won? We could agree to disagree, but in a fair fight..." he leaned in, face next to her ear, "a wolf pack would win. And as far as I can see, little lion, you're all alone in a place you hardly know." As if on cue, he saw a flicker of movement off to his left, where he noticed the Kaghan prince approaching. "Commander Kagha, fancy seeing you h-" Ka snapped his head over to Zacharius in the chaos, watching his puzzled expression at the interaction seeming to unfold before him. "I didn't take you for such an... amorous type of guy..." Despite the woman cursing him out and consequently pinning him onto the ground, his face was as neutral as a statue, calm, controlling. "You've known me much of your life, Your Highness. Do you believe this to be a hobby of mine?" He scoffed, but it was hard with a whole body lying on his ribs. He wasn't even really trying to get her off of him.
"I would recommend you look for Mir's little pet gardener." Looking at Zak with a rather calm expression, he had a feeling the prince would catch on to what he hinted at, but he may have been wrong. After many years and experiences, they had a way of each figuring out what the other was meaning. "A lover's quarrel, hmm? Now wouldn't that be interesting, for two lovers to call each other assholes and shitfaced bastards, bringing out knives like the pleasant little darlings they are." He turned his attention placidly to the woman who had already punched his mask off his face, but his dignity was spared by the fact that he almost instantly writhed under her weight and extricated himself from the situation. And that meant barely being missed by her dagger, of course, which he was highly grateful for. Get angry, you bastard. Directing his passive, fiery thoughts into his skills with a blade, he quickly got to his knees and dodged the dagger she aimed directly at his neck and chest, mind racing for a way to escape the devil woman. Of course. He dropped his own dagger and grabbed her chopping arm, holding it back as he held his other arm out at her exposed neck. Were he not trying to be less malicious in the face of royalty- he did see the Orinian King, strange as he seemed- he would've slammed her head on the floor, promptly cracking her neck. Alas, there were people watching, so it was less a death blow and more a highly forceful shove, strong enough to bruise the back of her head with ease.
As soon as she was beneath him, he wrestled the knife out of her grip and threw it to the side, promptly sitting himself on top of her. His face was mere inches from hers as he moved his unoccupied hand to her other wrist, preventing her from moving much other than her head. "You thought that I was a weak little soldier... cute." He smiled, a brief, devious smile, and searched her eyes for a reaction.
"Zacharius there spoiled my secret... ah, well. If you must know my name, it is Kagha Talmeren, Commander of the Kaghan Armies. Rather appropriate, no?" |
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Darkseeker
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Basil and Acilia MaleFemale | 1923 | ServantKnight Mentions: Everyone at the gardens Acilia huffs, her eyes narrowing. She kept her mouth shut but hearing his rank made her grin. "A commander? Such a lovely rank for such an enchanting man." Mouth spewing venom. Her eyes shift to the half-dressed royal standing over them. Examining him thoroughly then sets her sights on the king on his back. "A half-dressed royal with an old man on his back. This kingdom is the weirdest one I've been to." Acilia couldn't hold back a chuckle, "Hosting a freak show, your highness?" Licking her lips, blood leaking from them due to the impact between her and the ground. Those were her final words before she went quiet. Something felt wrong-it was making her stomach sick. What could be causing that? She shifts uncomfortably, not because of the man on top of her, but something else. Someone is pissed. An omen has befallen those in the garden. Acilia's body hardens, and her blood is icy cold. Whoever was doing it was putting real fear in her. Whoever they are, Acilia eagerly wants to meet. Was she a big fan? Not, Acilia isn't a fan of anything or anyone. So, why does she want to meet this person? Was she excited yet terrified of meeting the stranger? Most certainly, the answer is a strong yes. She gives a glance up to the sky that started to darken. The Sun was officially gone. Now, it was a cold breeze that swept the garden. Cold hands touched Acilia's face, and she could've sworn that she saw her breath. Acilia's eyes grew dim, shuffling under Ka's body. In a quick motion, she looks at him-a smile on her face. "Do you feel that, Commander Wolfy? Someone has murderous intent. Aren't you eager to meet them as much as I?" She starts laughing. The laughter-filled with fear, and it was choking her. Great, now her breathing is losing control. Acilia bites down hard on her bleeding lip, and her eyes focus on the castle. ━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━ Basil's legs crossed with the one holding the leg bouncing in a sloppy rhythm, his face in his hand, and he was muttering to himself. His breathing was strange-rapid and nervous. Everything was hurting. Everything inside him was angry. The light swarming him was gone. His little ray of sunshine was gone. Everything Basil ever known about himself was gone. He felt empty, with no joy in his heart, and he felt numb. It was uncomfortable. Unfamiliar. He was never this unhappy about something before. Correction, he has never been upset so mildly over anything. He wanted to cry. Basil wanted to punch something. He needed to stab someone. Basil huffs and puffs, his bottom lip trembling. He desired to scream slurs into the sky. He must do something to release all the frustration built up inside him. He's a ticking timebomb that's close to exploding under any circumstances. No matter how big or small it seems, it will set this little bomb off. He was dry-sobbing, no tears left him, and the air in his lungs couldn't handle the rapid changes. Basil was close to fainting. He was suffocating, but he couldn't stop. "Basil," Julia's voice came to him. He forcibly took his hand from his face to stare at the woman. His shiny eyes of joy were gone. He was unaware of the eyes of servants staring at him-fear in their eyes and concern. No one dared approach the hyperventilating man as they were unfamiliar with this sort of reaction from Basil. "I think you should head back to your room and rest. You're tired and a bit drunk. Go lay down and sleep it off." Basil's spark came back. A strained smile on his face, "Alright. I will. Can you," his throat was sore from the cold air rushing in, "help me?" Julia's tight body loosened-relieved while helping Basil up to his feet. Hand in hand, the two were making their way towards the door. The sunshine was returning, and the room's unknowingly heavy atmosphere was lifting. It was until Basil felt something in his soul. It was twisting in discomfort. It was begging to be left alone. ...pluck... Someone had taken something from him. Someone has stolen something valuable from his hard work. That's it. That's what set Basil's bomb off. The Sun replaced by the Moon. It was frigid. It felt like nothing-he felt nothing. Mindlessly, his thoughts were soaring around. Basil was struggling to keep everything together. Keep everything held down. That's what he's been doing for years, and it worked. So, why isn't it working now? What changed? Julia's words weren't listened to-his brain shut down completely. She was trying to calm him down, but it was failing. Julia was pulling away when his presence was suffocating to linger. Basil grew insulted that she pried away-glaring at her with his eye. His shaking fingers rake through his hair, causing everything to fall out of place. His hair pin met with the floor, including his hair tie. How could anyone handle anger? How do they manage it without losing their minds? Basil couldn't handle it. Acilia's words echoed in his empty mind. All those taunting words that she said about him spoke true. How can he scream if there's no more air in his lungs? That's when he stormed off-murderous intent running clear in his mind. Those familiar faces he smiled in the halls were nothing more but blurred faces. Strangers he never met. Where was he going? He doesn't know anymore but was aimlessly following the silent cries. It came from somewhere. But where? Julia was disturbed at the sudden change in Basil-everyone witnessing this was. She went after him, calling his name, but he couldn't hear her. No. He doesn't want to listen to her. It could've been the near-death experience that made his brain tick. Yes, that must've been the answer. Basil's steps had a fire to them-smoldering the floors beneath his feet. He was running over to the doors that were the exit to the gardens. To him, those doors were Holy gates to a paradise. A paradise where he can relax and enjoy himself in peace. Now, the doors were corrupted-bearing goodwill no longer. Basil was getting ready to enter his state of anguish. BAM. The doors shoved open with a force that matched that of a tornado. The palace guards who were patrolling there grew startled and confused. Why was the kingdom's ray of sunshine now ill-lit like the moon? Two Suns have set that day. One of the Suns was ill. Basil lets his feet carry him to the bush that used to hold the red roses. The flowers around him wilting-cowering in terror as Basil approached. The butterflies swarming the gardens scattered and hid away. In Basil's perspective, the flowers were black-they were nothing but shadows that bear no detail. His only eye wasn't the bright amber, not anymore. It was crimson red, like the blood of man. Basil trudges past the group of people there, not saying hello or making no movement to let them know that he notices them. They were figures with no faces. They were nobodies. The only thing he cared about was his bush of roses. That's the only thing his mind wanted him to see. He comes to an eerie stop in front of the bush. His eye scanned the bush to search for the missing flower. He worked hard to grow this bush. He'd to make sure he planted them in the right season. He had to give it the right amount of water. Basil had to keep up with feeding fresh fertilizer. Pull out the damn weeds that dare to invade its space. He had to take extra measures to keep the insects from eating them. All that work. Only for someone to take a flower that's not fully ripe. Why didn't no one wait until it was ready? Why were they so selfish? Do they hate his work this much? His eye turns to the characterless forms, checking out all of them for that missing flower. Indeed, he found the flower. It was sitting right up there-slowly dying due to someone's self-absorbed decision. Basil approaches Zak, staring at the flower with a solemn face on the usually cheerful man. He brings his hand up to take it and gently holds the stem between his pointer and thumb. Basil stared at it for a couple of minutes. Without warning, he crumbles it with his hand. The sharp thorn cut the palm of the said hand but did not flinch. He didn't cower away from the pain, let alone the smell of his blood. He could've replanted it-given it another chance to grow. However, the idea didn't cross his mind. He was too angry to think logically at this point. Opening his palm and drops the flower. Basil walks back over to the rose bush and kneels to lower himself. He touches a rock. His fingers glide over it flawlessly, then grips it. His hand was shaking-not by the weight but the rage that rushed to his hand. He throws it at one of the figures. Not caring who it was. Basil sees a worm wiggling in panic. He picked that up and hurled it. His focus landed on a terracotta clay figurine of a fairy. That got tossed too. An empty garden pot settled peacefully on the ground is now soaring. A snake was slithering away from the chaos, but that got chucked in the direction of the figures. Everything that he got his hands on was aimlessly went flying. Going as far as throwing flowers-something he cherished the most. That's when he noticed something familiar. Those cold blue eyes filled with dark intentions, and that's what set him off. He remembers those cold eyes, and he remembers vividly the person who held the blade to his throat. His bloodied, dirtied hand went to his inner thigh, and that's when his fingers touched his dagger. With a single flick of his wrist, he tossed the weapon towards the eyes of blue. The blade landed centimeters away from the eyes of his attacker. "You," his words were cold and empty, "you threatened to kill me." The truth is out in the open, and the stage is set. Now, the drama will begin, so bring your bag of popcorn and enjoy the show. Acilia didn't pull away from the dagger. She was thinking that it was going to miss. It did miss, but only by a couple of centimeters. The blade dug halfway into the ground-another surprise for Acilia. She never excepted Basil to have throwing strength like that. "Indeed I did, but it's your fault for tailing after me in the first place. Did your parents not warn you about following strangers?" The garden that was a breath of fresh air became a battleground. During his throwing fit, Basil's shawl fell off his shoulders-revealing his neck that had a cut on it. |
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Lightbringer
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Hyacinth Moichigo Thezmaer
Male :: 19 :: Prince Of Orin :: Mention: Sori, Zacharius, Mirian, Those In The Garden The young prince was quite excited to see the Kingdom of Kagha. It was an enigma to his people - and he wanted to know more about them , just like his older sister Sori. He found the entrance to the Kingdom quite beautiful - and what struck him were the beautiful ocean waves they could see on the carriage ride. So that's what an ocean looked and sounded like. He could see children running around and giggling with ribbons and big hats on their heads. Their mothers running after them with beautiful billowing dresses - their laughter carrying across the breeze. It was such a beautiful scene. He looked around and rarely if he saw someone begging or who looked poor - they were being taken care of , not ignored. This made his heart happy. He was soon surprised when they reached the castle of the Kagha people. It was quite a sight to see and he had to give a small impressed gasp at the sight of the castle. Everything was moving so quickly once they stepped out of the carriage. It seems a young noble lord that was also a knight had been sent to greet them. He was very polite and respectful to them. But his older sister Mirian didn't think so, and he had to cut a glare at her at seeing her being such a, how do you say brat. Not to mention Edrys wasn't acting much better at the moment. He had to suppress an eye roll at her ill-mannered behavior. However the Kaghan Prince seemed to take it gracefully. And his lovely sister of course managed to swiftly take control of the situation like the Queen she was born to be. And a soft smile graced his features as he watched her in action. Soon they were being ushered in the castle and given a tour by the Crown Prince himself, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy. He seemed so cheerful and rather a nice guy - but his sister was acting like there was a stick up her ass and a cactus where her heart should be. He hopes that the poor guy wouldn't be stuck in some dumb marriage with Mirian. He didn't believe him to be worthy of Sori - just yet. The prince did treat her with upmost respect and was trying to do the same for Mirian (who was being a little pain in the ass as usual.) The young prince kept in tow with Sori. He had to grumble in annoyance when Mirian and Sori were arm in arm. He didn't like Mirian, especially when she was acting so buddy-buddy with Sori - he knew she was a snake, not a intelligent one though. Because even a snake knew how have precise - yet, cautious blows. Because the way she called Lord Rosenberg a foreigner - directly to his face without an ounce of shame or brains had him reeling. But the way the young lord handled her had him giggling . He heard his older sister mutter words about getting her. "Sister, sister." He said looping his own arm with Sori's . A cat-like amusement present in his own eyes, "don't worry your pretty head about such a lost case. It's obvious she chases things she can't even begin to understand. Her little tantrums and poorly veiled threats shows her disregard for diplomacy and ruling. Because if she thinks as a Queen of Orin she can have such manners in a foreign land then she is poorly mistaken." He gave an annoyed sigh, " because who in their right mind would go out of their way to offend both princes of a Kingdom that we need an alliance with and that has graciously opened themselves as hosts when they are known for their secrecy." He couldn't even finish his rant when his sister openly threatened Lord Rosenberg . Was she fucking mental? He groaned in annoyance, he usually wasn't one to get involved in his sister's petty squabbles but this was out of order. He could only hold a sharp and serious gaze as he addressed Mirian, " Mirian, you really don't have room to talk about being rude to foreign royalty to their face. As if you haven't been beyond rude to our host Prince Zacharius - not to mention having your face scrunched up like you've smelled something bad when the castle is very breathtaking. And then directly insulting Lord Rosenberg for some petty reasoning and then indirectly insulting the other Kaghan Prince. Why should the Lord have to deal with your insults to his home just because you've decided to be a real pain in the ass." He spoke with a deadly calm and icy tone, "and not to mention: you couldn't have done a damn thing at home. How could you dare to say you'd have his head for isults, when the Princes's here have most likely been very lenient with your speech towards them. And secondly, you are not the fucking Queen, so get of your high horse and stop being a self-centered, egotistical, narcissistic, spoiled brat. And I don't care if you are mad at me, be mad and stay mad. Because you've already chosen the bed you lie in. You chose to chase something you're simply not worthy of and ignore those who you need in your corner to obtain your goal. And quite frankly, you're too late to earn my respect." And at the mentioning of leaving he could only scoff, "You only saw what you wanted to see." He gave Blair a knowing look. Like yes, he was enjoying the drama and he enjoyed being the drama. He then made his way to his true sister, Sori and locked his arms with her quite content to be with her. He watched with amusement as Zacharius gave their father a piggyback ride - quite easily he may add. The rest of the tour went rather smoothly. And he unhooked his arm form Sori as she began telling the story of a childhood fable. But what surprised him was when Lord Rosenberg added on to the story. Ah, so he had a parent that was a native Orin. That made sense. He had to give a small laugh at Zacharius saying they liked to scare their children. "What can you say. It builds character." Hyacinth said rather amused. He then looked in excitement at Blair when they mentioned the garden. He then couldn't express the happiness in his heart at the site that was the Kagha Royal Garden. The flowers looked like they were meticulously cared for and it made his heart happy. He had to kneel down and gently touch the petals. He frowned at the mention of the flowers being picked. "Father, don't you think that's a bit rude. After all the Prince did just say no flower picking." He said a bit concerned. No sooner than he spoke, he could feel a chill in the air. It was dangerous and quite scary. He soon could feel himself jump out of his skin at the sound of the doors being open with such force. The persona was dressed rather nicely , and could be described as a flower nymph coming to avenge their sisters. Because he did not expect the person to being throwing things randomly in a fit of rage, and what was tossed towards him and Blair was a simple rose. And he watched as the young man accused a random guest of attempting harming him and then throw a dagger that nearly hit said person. Just who exactly was this gardener. Because, damn he was cute. Hyacinth could feel his eyes watching the Gardner with interest and possibly a bit of a crush was forming. He could feel his face grow red at the thought. |
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Lightbringer
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Randolph Cornelius Thezmaer | 53 years | Male | King | Orin | Mentions: Zacharius, Kristopher, Mirian, Sori, Moriah, Mircea, Basil, Kagha, Acilia, Hyacinth "Hyacinth," he glared at his son. "What have we said?" No spats with his siblings in front of other nobles. To not use such strong language unless they were wanting to cause a war. While Randolph was not great at ambassadorial positions, he had a few tips from his wife. Besides, she had recommended that everyone keep their mouth closed. The less information they gave out the better it might be until negotiations came around. Randolph had a feeling that they all would be getting a talking to. He moved on from his son and spent a lot of time looking around. He didn't get his son's admiration for this castle. He liked his own just as much and much more since he lived there. Perhaps he was trying to be polite? “Pah,” Randolph grumped. “You’re just walking on flat ground. It’s more challenging when I’m deadweight on rough terrain.” Although he had been needling him so they could leave his wife alone, he really had expected Zacharius to be more of a wimp. He was curious how long pride would keep up his stamina. He heavily clamped his strong hand around Zak's neck intending to feel his pulse. Sheesh. His pulse wasn't bad at all. Randolph snorted when he heard about the flower crown. Not that he could talk. A flower behind your ear wasn't super manly either. He really appreciated flowers, probably more than Moriah. They had named his son Hyacinth after Randolph's favorite flower. He sighed a little after he was done sneezing. Some might take it that after sneezing felt better, but he was enjoying the view of the garden. The glorious variety of plants was calming. He was becoming less miffed by everyone arguing earlier. Randolph supposed he should have told Mirian off so that she wouldn't have constantly gotten poked at. Now she had stormed off who knows where. Randolph was annoyed that Hyacinth would scold his sister for so long. How boring after almost all of the Kaghans had had their turn. Randolph’s little mind kept eating at him. How angry could a gardener get? Surely, it was normal for children to pluck flowers? He turned to Hyacinth. "What are flowers for but enjoyment? Sometimes you can't be outside to appreciate it." He avoided the truth that it was rude. "Besides, it's more like a guideline. I also heard that the gardener is very sunshiney." He nodded approvingly at Edrys to reassure her that he was serious. He had been curious who Edrys would choose. He was surprised when there was no fight from Zak, because he noticed the sharp little thorn and hoped that wouldn’t be a problem. It’d be really annoying if it stabbed into the side of his leg for the rest of the tour. In addition, he couldn’t mention it. If this led to another quarrel he wanted to be able to claim innocence. He turned his head to watch the lover’s quarrel that Zak pointed out. Didn’t people around here get a room? Their body language didn't suggest lovers although the position of their bodies didn't really leave anyone with a different impression. "I want the story here." He said to no one in particular after Kagha started throwing her around. "I find the hatred here quite intriguing. I wonder what she did to get that kind of treatment." Randolph saw a stiff figure heading their way. “Oh shit,” Randolph hissed at Zak. “You said that he would be an angry blur. You didn’t say he would cry.” He whispered down at Zak full of awe and confusion, “Can he really see where the missing flower is?” Randolph stared at Basil as he crumpled the flower. Pretty aggressive move for someone who loves their flowers. Guess jealousy was a serious thing if he didn’t want anyone else to enjoy the flowers unless they were on his terms. He thought it was a little cruel. If someone was going to pluck the flower, it meant they wanted to enjoy it and bring it with them. Why was he so angry about that? Alright, Randolph didn’t have the right reasons for having a flower picked, but surely Basil didn’t know that. While Randolph did feel a little guilty for being the main reason for making the gardener cry, he was getting a little annoyed at the illogicalness of this. Randolph’s eyes widened as objects flew through the air. He was even more amazed when he saw a worm rocketing across the way. He started hunching behind Zak. “Dodge, dodge, dodge!” he shouted. He rocked around precariously holding on and probably messing up Zak’s balance. He hated that he looked so cowardly. If he hadn't been on Zak's back he would have done something about the young gardener. Grabbing onto Zak’s hair he started shaking it and firmly kicking his sides before realizing that Zak wasn’t going to respond like an equine. “Forwards." He pointed in the direction he wanted to go. "Stop the little weed! Alright, you little plant!” He was getting tired of wondering if he was going to be hit by a projectile. “Why do you care…” his voice dropped off when Basil threw a dagger. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He ducked back behind Zak as well as he could although plenty of him was still exposed. “Wah, what the hell?” Had someone threatened the gardener? Basil was certainly throwing his displeasure around quickly. Should he know who that girl was on the ground? "OoOoohh," he said in that drama-inducing tone. “Hmmm. That’s one of yours I suppose?” he vaguely indicated in their direction, but he meant the man holding the girl down. “I was going to ask the gardener why others weren’t allowed to enjoy a flower and bring it with him, but this is so much juicier.” He sat back up straight making himself more comfortable than hiding behind Zak. “Mirian!” He turned back the way they had come from seeing a figure that could be his daughter and waved throwing his mount off balance once more. “So you have decided to rejoin us? Of course, you missed the flying projectiles. Typical.” He huffed a little out of breath. He eyed Hyacinth next wondering if he was going to be an unbearable "I told you so." |
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Darkseeker
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Sori Rye Thezmaer 21 | Female | Princess of Orin | Mentions: Zak, Mirian, Mircea, Kristopher, Randolph, Hyacinth, Basil, Acilia, Kagha The princess was pleasantly suprised when none other than Mircea Rosenburg joined in on her story, her face lighting up. She listened intently to the version of the legend that his father shared with him, blue eyes inquisitve and gentle. It was a gentler version of her legend, one that involved a guardian more than a monster, one who was a protector more than the darkness, one who promoted kindness rather than violence. "Was your father of Orin descent?" She asked softly, voice leaving more than enough room for him to tell her to not ask that question. Family could be difficult for some, she knew. "The joyful thing about legends, Lord Rosenburg, is that everyone's unique telling is different, and they're all just as real as one another's," she responded to his comment about her telling, before her smile widened. "Or should I perhaps say Mircea?" She nodded her head, turning her head slightly to check on the location of her brother. "And you can call me Sori. Formalities can be so tiring." Her attention was dragged to Hyacinth when he looped his arm with hers, sighing. She listened to his words carefully, half-tempted to lean her head down against his shoulder, if it weren't for the jewels in her hair and upon her face, she would have. Her brother had always been a comfort, someone that she loved very dearly and relied on as much as he relied on her. "You're right, of course you are," she muttered cheekily, poking his cheek before her attention got snatched, once again, by their sister, Mirian. She sighed, deflating, and flat-out asked: "Hyacinth, can I room with you for the duration of our stay instead of with Mirian? I don't think we'll both survive the trip otherwise." She shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes at the drama surrounding her sister. "Now, now, brother," she muttered, echoing his own words back to him. "Don't drop yourself down to her level, especially not in front of the Kagha Royals, or Father. You know how he is about arguments between us," she bumped her hip into his, trying to draw his attention back to her and the conversation at hand that didn't involve her. Just as they stepped out into the gardens, Sori was almost taken aback by how gorgeous it all was. Bushes of flowers everywhere, beautiful scenery, fantastic smells. And two people who looked like they were having an affair in the corner- Sori had to look again at the pair, glancing at Prince Zacharius, who was carrying her father on his back, when he addressed the pair and faltered. Ah, so not a usual occurance, then. Many things today seemed to not be usual occurances, it seemed. "Father," she voiced her concern with the order to pick a flower just as her brother did, brows furrowed and frown disapproving. She practically clung to her brothers side when everything seemed to explode. The gardener rushed out, and she stepped behind her brother to avoid anything thrown, pressing her light giggle into his shoulder from where she gripped the back of his shirt. "Be my meat shield, Hyacinth," she whispered, using her leg to push one of his forward so that he would be even closer to the 'threat' than she was. Sori did straighten, however, when the dagger was thrown and the gardener loudly announced that the person at the recieving end had threatened to kill him. Her arms casually dropped to her sides, hand ready to grab her dagger just in case a fight did break out because of what her father and the other person had done to the poor gardener. |
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Spring 
Day Weather: 
Fog
