Fantasy The Empire of Alstasia - S U C C E S S I O N - M A I N

[jones573]

Beatrice laughed lightly at Abraham’s observation.



“Sir Lawrence seems to be at the age where he does not make a secret of his affection, or his distaste,” she clarified. He had been friendly to nearly everyone they had met, but had sulked at a few of the courtiers and made a show of introducing Beatrice to someone else instead, for which she had to make an apologetic face over his shoulder. He was even older than the Emperor, so such behavior was generally tolerated if not excused.



“He has made it his mission that I should only experience what he considers the finest that Alstasia can offer as a matter of personal pride, I believe. I confess it is probably for the best, as I might otherwise think a garnish to be an appetizer,” she confessed with a tone of amusement.



Beatrice usually made it a point to speak with people who intimidated her, and Abraham certainly fit that description, with her posture and her mask. Beatrice wondered why she wore it- To hide a wound, as a style, to ward off plague? But her curiosity wasn’t enough to ask.



Beatrice herself had covered her left hand and wrist in the somewhat honey-scented ointment she used on the disfigured skin before pulling on the single black glove. She’d even dusted a pale powder on the skin above the glove to hide the shine of the oil and the discoloration of the skin beneath- It wasn’t a perfect match for her own skin by any means, but at least it cut down on the red undertones that the glove wasn’t long enough to cover. She was certainly in no position to question why someone else wore a mask.



“Yes, it is certainly grand,” Beatrice agreed as she looked above their hands. “Perhaps I should adopt your outlook- I certainly cannot learn about such things at home. Sir Lawrence has been the court historian for years, I am sure his knowledge is rarely surpassed,” she mused. He was not the driest historian she had ever listened to, despite his habit for rambling off on tangents. Across the room, she could see had gotten involved in another conversation, and was gesticulating so wildly with the hand carrying the laden plate that she was afraid one of the little cakes might go flying off and hit a slender red-haired woman in the back of the head, standing a bit away from the historian and speaking with a taller man holding two wine glasses. She was nearly certain that man was Duke Wright, and hoped Sir Lawrence might keep his gestures to only one hand.



“I am visiting from Loland,” Beatrice clarified, as she suspected the other woman was unaware. “Beatrice Adams,” she offered, though she did not force Abraham by putting out her hand in introduction and requiring a name in return. Her habit of speaking with folks who frightened her had taught Beatrice not to overreach whenever possible.


Interacting: Elise Ebele
Mention: Arcanist , Rose of Versailles

 

[FireMaiden]

Lady Fleur Wright
Interaction: @Church418 Braddington
Mentioned: Arcanist Rose of Versailles Archon
"Then, on behalf of the Wright family, I gladly accept your invitation. I've always wanted to trek through swap," Fleur said with a pleasant smile a warm laugh, both at her comment, and then in turn his. "An old solider I knew as a child had a similar saying, but about your drinking partners breath. I'll admit, I'm a little more keen to believing you." The very faint hint of pride, or maybe surprise on Albrecht's face didn't go unnoticed by Fleur, she began watching for them like a hawk as soon as she was able to leave her bedroom, albeit at the time those hints of pride were from her parents. And for the most part, nowhere to be found. In any case, her and Aedan's conversation was cut short by a man she almost immdeiatly recognized by color as l Kirkland. He greeted Albrecht first, then Adean, and of course, herself.

The Kirkland took her hand, kissing her knuckle before introducing himself as Marquis Beauford. She curtseyed, sort of, only going down about half way. "It's a pleasure to meet you Marquis. I am Lady Fleur Wright." She knew she would be repeating herself often, as nobody would know her. Sure, they could most likely make the assumption she was related to Albrecht, the looked very similar, same hair and what not, but she was never maid public to the other royal families. At least, not to her knowledge. Her parents even tried to pretend she didn't exist for a while and-Fleur, taking a sip of her wine, just noticed Albrecht staring at someone. Following his eyes, her own landed on an attractive redheaded woman who seemed to have averted her gaze. Fleur glanced back to her brother, then to the redheaded woman, then back to Albrecht again. She was tempted to go and introduce herself to the other woman, before her brother finally seemed to realize what to do. While Fleur was relieved he remembered what manners were, nerves began to brew in the put of her stomach again.

However, with the space created by her brother leaving, and Aedan talking to Marquis Kirkland, Fleur allowed herelf to once again scan the room. The decor still impressed her, it wasn't like anything she had seen before. Of course, Oskari was well decorated and well kept, but she grew up in those halls. Anything was better than what she had seen a thousand times over. But more importantly the people. Surely this wasn't all of them, and she kept and ear on the conversation she was still apart of, and an eye on her brother, at least in a sense, she found her gaze wandering to the woman sitting in a way her mother would have beaten her for. Fleur, unlike her brother, would break eye contact for fear of creepy staring, taking in the woman's impressive build from the chair, and somewhat entertaining disgruntled apperance, before giving her a small wave and properly turning back to the conversation at hand. A Locklow most likely, the arms would give her away.

 

[Rose of Versailles]

Meredith Locklow​

Oh, apparently I was right, Meredith thought to herself with a chuckle instead her mind. Her little heart fluttered in her chest, pitter-pattering as she watched the dark haired male approach her -- and with a glass of wine for her, as well! When he came to her and confidently handed her a drink, a smirk curled across her mouth.

“What a gentleman. Thank you, sweet sir,” she spoke as she accepted the glass out of his hand, slightly brushing her finger tips against his skin - on accident, of course. She batted her eyes at him, her smirk still quite not gone from her lips. Her eyes looked him up and down in admiration of his perfectly tailored clothes that complimented his slightly bronzed skin well. He was indeed a little tan for someone of his title, but that must have been from his fondness of riding horses and spending time in the sun. Meredith kept her smile of amusement and flattery as she took a slow sip of her wine. Honestly, Meredith wasn’t much for the taste of it yet - it was still too bitter for her - but for the sake of seeming mature, she pretended. “I see you guessed I’m a Locklow.”

Glancing past him from feeling eyes traveling the room, she noticed his also raven haired sister looking past her and at her sister. Turning her head, she softly groaned at the sight of her well-mannered sibling sitting as if she was perched on a boat hammock.

“Which I’m sure was hard to guess,” she muttered with sarcasm. “Please excuse my sister. As you know, the spending so many days at sea can sometimes make one… forget how manners work on land.” Meredith was only in the building for maybe thirty minutes at most and was already embarrassed by her family. Meredith took another sip of her drink, but this time with a little more of a gulp to swallow down her humiliation. Giving a small lick to her bottom lip, she looked back at the handsome man before her. Her eyes sparkled with a sense of opportunity and she found herself growing even more curious of this known bachelor across the lands. Apparently he was thirty-two and never married, but did not seem to have any air of shyness about him. How peculiar.

“Now let me guess,” she practically purred to him, patting a fingertip on her cheek to playfully tease at him. “I’m presuming that you are none other than Duke Wright… am I correct? I simply have to be. Your reputation precedes you, if so.” Meredith let another impish grin cross her lips.

 

[Elise Ebele]

Beatrice laughed lightly at Abraham’s observation....

Forest Abraham Nalha’na Hacaster ​

​

The Sea Captain nodded and watched the older man as the woman talked about him. He did seem rather interested in those treats. She was not particularly interested in the old man, though. When she turned back to the woman, Abraham noticed she was looking quite curiously at her face. No... her mask. It was some thing she didn;t think too much about. She always wore a mask. At this point, she couldn’t even recall why she started to in the first place. Perhaps... wasn’t it the last captain that gave her her first mask...?

No matter. When the girl mentioned she was from the Loland, she was paying attention again. “Beatrice Adams,” the woman said, in a way to introduce her self. Abraham nodded at the woman... Beatrice. Now this was an official meeting.

Without much though, Abraham drew the longest sword she had on her and held it straight up in front of her, tilting it a bit towards Beatrice. It was a long cutlass, embellished with fine metal, and stained from many battles. It was one of the swords she was proud of. It was not her most deadly of swords, as she left that one on the ship, for fear she might be pressured in to giving more gifts than she had prepared, and she did not want to have the option of parting with her treasure.

She smiled as the tip of the sword reached Beatrice’s eye level, even though she only held it near her waist. “Lord Captain Nalha’na,” Abraham smiled, glad all her practice didn’t go to waste. “Lord Commander of The Father’s Whisper and her crew, Protecter Captain of the waters, Daughter of the Earth and Queen of the Sea,” she nodded. “Five points for a flawless introduction,” she thought. Of course, she had introduced her self plenty of times... to goners, and to those she meant to end. This was one of the few times she had to do it in a civil way. She was glad she did it right.

“Though,” she wondered, “how come Beatrice didn’t pull out her sword?”

​

 

[Arcanist]

Albrecht Beaumont Wright​

The corners of Albrecht’s lips had almost raised to form a smile at comment, though, it was almost as if a force was pulling them back down again. Mind you, his scowl didn’t seem as strong as it had been previously. Maybe because the Duke was trying to hold back for her sake. He remembered his mother telling him several years before that if he scowled so much, his face might permanently shape itself into that stern expression. Albrecht regretfully admitted to himself that that now seemed to be the case. Regardless, that shouldn’t have been the main focus here. Instead, he shifted it to that of the woman in front of him, whose charm and beauty was seeming to work wonders for her, and had no doubt done so in the past. The elegance she weaved into her words clearly came from someone with experience.

And such words did cause Albrecht’s eyes to twinkle with slight amusement, even if the rest of his expression refused to give that away. His gaze shifted to the dark-haired woman lounging the corner, as if it were her own home. Remembering now to find himself staring for too long as before, he turned back to the younger Locklow. The fact that she took a larger gulp to swallow back the embarrassment she felt rising made her opinion of her sister’s behaviour all too clear. “That’s quite understandable. Though, I wonder how those manners wouldn’t kick in with being in such a prestigious environment…” The latter was more his own musings, though, his mutterings were loud enough for Meredith to pick up on. “Regardless, I had no difficulty in discerning who you were. You’ve seemed to make a lasting impression on everyone who passes you by.”

That…and the unsavoury rumours that followed the woman. He had heard reports about her parentage, her status as a noble, yet, much of it without any solid evidence to support them. Despite that, Meredith made a name through her charm and her social etiquette, and it was clear to see.

Albrecht let his eyebrows raise momentarily, before they dropped again. “Oh? I didn’t realise it was so obvious.” Of course, he didn’t believe his own words. He knew himself that he was one of the most recognisable men across Alstasia; for the name attached to him, the reputation he had created for himself, his…less conventional looks. Despite this knowledge, he feigned surprise, mainly to throw his own tease back at the woman. “It seems wherever I go, my ‘reputation’ seems to follow. If it precedes me so much, I can only hope that you’ve heard favourable things of me.”

It wasn’t long, before he could hear the distinct sound of metal scraping along metal, and his head couldn’t help but turn his head towards the sound. He blinked, then narrowed his eyes at the sight of a sword being drawn and held close enough to another woman’s eye that it looked as if it threatened to poke it out. He was about to rush over to confront what seemed to be a mask woman on the matter, yet, heard her proclaiming her name and appropriate titles, and held himself back. Judging by the pride practically seeping from her words and what he soon noticed to be an equally proud smirk, he concluded it must of have been her…unique style of introduction. All the while though, his gaze shifted to the woman at the other end of her sword, imagining that she would be rather petrified in that moment. Albrecht wasn’t quite sure if it was his awful vision, but he couldn’t seem to put a name to her. He felt like he should have recognised her, feeling as if they have interacted in some way in the past. Perhaps he just mixed her face up with another he believed to have a meeting over something long ago.

Interacting with:
Rose of Versailles

Mention:
Elise Ebele jones573

 

[TYPE]

⚙ Izen van Schaik ⚙
- Earl of The Fjords, Master of Newanholm -
INTERACTING : D U H ​

The chatter coming from his cousin, sitting opposite him, had him stopping his writing. He looked up her, a veritable patron of boredom. Saint ennui, if you will. Izen sat back in his seat, his attention moving from figures, numbers, taxes, stock... to the inane prattle that seemed to concern the likes of her. He felt breath escape his lips, as he closed his eyes and brought a few fingers up to his temple, rubbing it in small circles.

He would not have minded her boredom. He minded her vocal boredom. He did not mind her disinterest, but the vague and uncomprehending glaze that clouded her eyes at looking what was - to him at least - simple mathematics and engineering, irritated him slightly. She had been studying with him for months now. She had been learning for months now. She had observed and been given the opportunity to not only better herself, but also to advance her position within the family. And yet here she sat, dazed at a few numbers that clearly followed a logical pattern. He breathed out from his nose, gathering his thoughts.

"Boring, dear cousin? That what I am?" His brow lowered, as his eyes opened. Dark. Intense. Calculating. "Our country is at the edge of chaos. It has been dancing around it's own demise for the last two hundred years. People are starving. People are dying. People are without work, homes, and many are left without family... without heirs. Without parents. Without security. Without. Without. Without." His voice did not rise. It did not seethe. It was calm. Dark. Controlled. "Would you rather have the buffoons of the coast offer spectacle? Or perhaps the horse lords whom might throw a tourney? Or the Kirklands who are soldiers, and who barely seem to understand their own functions outside of war. Or the Hacaster, who will cover the regency in secrecy and shadow, doing gods know what - distracted too much by their own brilliance." He gave her a moment to think.

"I am not going to attempt to be Emperor. I am going to be Emperor. I have to be. I don't have a choice. We... don't have a choice. And we will work ourselves into the ground. Until our minds are frayed and our bodies exhausted. And then, at the end of our reign. When our people are not hungry. When our people are not cold. Homeless. Jobless. Afraid." At the last word his voice rose a bit more, cutting through the sound of horses on the outside, as the city started to move past them, as they neared the Palace. "Only then will I allow for anything else. Then you can have your tourney. Then you can have your carnival. Then you can have your... entertainment." He leaned forward, sitting up to his full height, looking over her - his dark eyes narrowing. "Then... you can have your fun. When you have earned it." He sat back in his chair, closing his notes and putting them away. "We will arrive in a few minutes. Ready yourself. You will have your 'music' soon enough."

 

[Elise Ebele]

Forest Abraham Nalha’na Hacaster ​

There was a pause in the atmosphere and Abraham could feel it. Before Beatrice could even respond to her hello, a nother man from across the room had turned his attention her way. She wasn’t too sure why. “Surely, he must know the name of the most feared Lord to travel the waters,” she thought to herself. A smile slipped across her face beneinth her mask, as she had finally run in to some one who knew the name.

Or.... did he? The man didn’t seem to fear her presence, nor did he seem to be some one who was honored to be in her presence. He... didn’t seem to care who she was, either. So why was he... why did he take the time to turn his whole body? Unless he was curious. No. That was not the look on his face. She saw him look at her sword. At first, Abraham thought he was quite impressed with it’s size and obvious killablity. But now, she felt that he... disapproved.

She looked back at Beatrice, who didn’t draw a sword. In fact... no one in this room had a sword. At least, no one was talking with them. She had first just figured that every one there already knew each other. But now, the Sea Queen was starting to second guess her original assumption. Perhaps... that introduction was not as flawless as she had originally presumed.

She looked back at the man who had turned his attention to her, back at Beatrice, and back at the man. “...What?” she whispered, not sure if any one really heard.


jones573
Arcanist

 

[jones573]

“Oh shit,” Beatrice swore in surprise, her usual composure rattled away by the sudden shock of being at someone else’s swordpoint.



She’d had weapons drawn on her before, unfortunately, but at least in those circumstances she had at least known to be on her guard if she hadn’t been outright expecting at attack. Her right hand went immediately to her waist out of habitual instinct, but of course her belt was only decorative and held no blades.



(She had a small dagger attached to her right leg with a garter that she could reach in an emergency through a seam she’d ripped in one of her inner pockets, but she wasn’t in the practice of expecting her weapon to be in such a location.)



Her right hand instead flew up towards her shoulder in a gesture of surrender, her left arm limp at her side and the woman was saying something- By the time Abraham had reached ‘of the waters’, Beatrice had realized what was going on and her face relaxed in relief.



She even laughed, a bit shakily at first but it gained more genuine lightheartedness as she dropped her hand back to her side, her neck tilting back slightly.



“Goodness, I was certainly not expecting that! It was quite fine, though,” Beatrice reassured the other woman with a small smile. “And a definite improvement to the last time I had a sword in the direction of my face!”



Her heart was still in her throat and pounding furiously, and she tried to push it back down into her chest and to a regular rhythm by force of will alone.



“I haven’t quite deciphered the preferred method of introduction myself, if this court does just have the one,” Beatrice admitted. “There seems to be a mix of handshaking and bows of various depths, and some handkissing as well? I’ve noticed several unusual salutes as well, thought none quite as… Unique, as yours.”


In Loland, introductions tended not to include much for formalities- The lack of titles and family heritages made it simple, and the aversion to interacting too closely with someone who might be infected made it practical.

 

[D U H]

Audrey Monet
House van Schaik
Audrey looked up as her cousin breathed a sigh clenching the bridge of his nose. Sitting up slightly at her cousin's flat words seeing that she had annoyed her cousin she shifted to face the papers on the desk as he talked. She hadn't meant to annoy him but this was the same reason why his chance of being emperor was lank. Looking up as she was bombarded with questions which she probably wasn't supposed to answer but she did anyway. "You know I didn't mean it like. I want you to be emperor." Audrey wondered if she had insulted him, "Sorry if it hurt your feelings."

Audrey seemed to have lost her voice while she played with the bottom strands of her hair, which had gotten tangled because of her constant need to move around. "I wouldn't prefer any of those clowns but someone else might. And you know that very well. So don't act like your the only one that cares. Besides why would I do I know them? Do they know me? Have I lived with them for years to know how they think and who they care about." raising her troubled voice at the end of her sentence. She was unsure why he was talking as if she had done something wrong. Maybe she did in his sight she always did at some point. Audrey sarcastically laughed at his last remark, "I don't want a carnival, you nincompoop." she whispered the last part to herself. Sitting back she crossed her arms comfort showed clearly as she glared at her relative. "Just because I want to listen to music and distract myself from this tiresome ride doesn't mean I don't cry about the people." Audrey was sure her cousin thought her -stupid and selfish and at times that was true. Especially in situations like this where she was cooped up between 4 walls for hours. She couldn't help but think about herself. Hearing her cousin shut his book and indicated for her to ready herself she popped her head out the window. "I haven't listened to any music lately because of those horrible lessons." thinking out loud Audrey eyed the structures and people noticing the difference in culture and architecture right away. Somehow this place seemed much brighter than back from home.
Tags: TYPE

 

[Rose of Versailles]

Meredith Locklow​

Pressing the glass of the cup against her fingertips that propped themselves against Meredith’s cheek, the young woman let out a soft chuckle at the Duke’s response to her. Her pinky finger drifted down her cheek, placing itself against her bottom lip as she smirked up at him. Her other hand positioned itself on her chest, seeming as if she was almost breathless to speak. Her eyes gleamed up at him as she fluttered her eyelashes at him, sizing him up in her mental map of the brief future. She had heard many words about him - mainly his fascination with horses that lead to a little bit of horrid sailor jokes, and his lack of sight in his eye. But the fact of him still being available for marriage at such an age was what really peaked her interest the most. The Wrights were known for their noble name, and he was the only male in line to give such a name and title.

“Oh?” She managed to release. “I hope my impression is at least a pleasing one…” Meredith shuttered on the inside of the idea of her name and impressions. She was no fool and sadly bared no blissful ignorance of the rumors that followed her name and image. She was the bastard of the Locklows, according to the whispers, and only she was the one that knew this was indeed a fact.

“Favorable… hm, that is indeed quite a word for what I’m thinking,” Meredith continued to speak with a playful hum in her voice. Giving a little bite her her fingernail, she let out another faint giggle. “I had heard that you had a face that could bring anyone to their knees. At first I thought it perhaps had to do with your serious gaze, but now I’m starting to wonder if it’s because of how… handsome you-,” the ginger cut herself off, bashfully placing her hand in front of her mouth as she shared a startled expression with him. “Excuse my manners. Perhaps I have spent too much time at sea… or maybe this wine is not what my body is used to. How bold of me.”

Flattery and seduction Meredith had always watched from afar. Spending much time at court and at social events, Meredith spent years watching others around her and learning. She would playfully flirt and toy with young men around her just to exercise her skills, but this was the first time she actually attempted to put them to use. She was feeling rather confident in her first attempt -- that was until his eyes drifted elsewhere. She followed his gaze, taking sight of two women seeming to have some sort of altercation? In absolutely what world was pointing a sword at someone else in front of a room full of nobles such a thing?

Her eyebrows furrowed in irritation from the disruption of their conversation. Who were these outlandish people just waltzing into such a place to flex their savagery? Meredith quietly took another sip of her wine, fixated on the two and occasionally looking up at the Duke to try and read an expression or two. This was something only her siblings would normally be able immaturely do, but even they seemed to have more manners. How rude.

 

[Elise Ebele]

(Y’all forgive me. My keyboard broke earlier this week, which is making it hard to post.... they might be really short and sweet til my new one comes in)j

Forest Abraham Nalha’na Hacaster
​

It did not take long before Abraham was very aware of the mistake she had made. It felt as if the whole room had paused to look at her, which was not at all what she had wanted. She just wanted to get through the day, pay her respects to the Emporer, and leave. Now people would be talking about the great and mighty sea queen of not knowing how to do parties.

When she looked back at Beatrice’s face, she seemed both surprised and relieved at the same time. A bit of fear passed by her face, but the Sea Queen could tell the woman was not one faint of heart.

The Duke and the Lady he spoke to did not seem too amused with her. And now they would probably talk about her later.

Slowly, Abraham lowered her cutlace and slipped it back in to the sheath where it belonged. Then she began to dip her head apologetically, but rose it back up, chin high. She was a lord, after all. “I uh.... suppose land lubbers... do this thing much differently.” There was no better time then now to have a mask, because she did not want these people to see a Sea Queen blush.

“Honestly, Beatrice,” Abraham started, bringing her voice back down to a normal volume, “I don’t really know how the people of this country introduce them selves, either, apperantly. But I do it like a Queen so they can deal with it,” she shrugged, going back to holding her head high like the sea queen she knew she was. A killer did not have to follow any one’s rules but those of her sword.

jones573

​

 

[Arcanist]

Albrecht Beaumont Wright​

The Duke’s gaze between the self-titled Sea Queen and the familiar young woman lingered. In that time, he had been deciding whether to intervene. After all, the Emperor didn’t need to hear of an accident or a complaint before he had even addressed them. When his mind seemed to settle on a decision, he watched the realisation sink in on the owner of the sword’s face. He had to squint at her too, for the mask covered any recognisable features he could pin to a family. In fact, nothing of her features gave away any trace of noble blood. At least with the Locklows, they were known to be a hardy people, masters of the sea, recognisable for their darkened looks and rough-and-ready attitude. As far as the man was sure of, there was no other rumoured Locklow bastards people should know.

Albrecht tore his gaze away when he felt her gaze turn to him. He took another sip of his wine, his brow pressed in irritation. It seems they’ll let anyone into the Breckenridge estate… Perhaps the Emperor was truly desperate to find his heir if a pirate, by the appearance of her, came waltzing in as if she owned the place. Yet, everyone else gathered was someone of noble blood. Perhaps she had a strain of it, and was keeping her cards close to her chest…

The tension in Albrecht’s forehead disappeared. It would do him no good deliberating over it now, not when he had other important things to focus on. Plus, a lady to attend to. He couldn’t let his manners slip, not when he had apparently made such a lasting impression on her. He turned back to Meredith, murmuring, “My apologies. It’s not everyday someone brandishes a weapon in front of others, unless it’s a direct challenge.” Some flicker of nostalgia seemed to play in his eyes. “There are too many stories of men beginning altercations under the influence of alcohol or pure rage.” The Duke would know. He had watched several altercations when he found himself loitering in local areas; not inside the taverns they occurred, but on the outskirts, watching men chasing people out of the tavern with some sort of sharp weaponry in hand.

But the Duke refrained from elaborating on such matters further, and managed a smile at the young Locklow, “But those aren’t stories I would subject a charming young woman such as yourself to.” He had hoped that would substitute as an answer to her previous statement on her impression. Whatever rumours of a possible illegitimacy plagued her, it seemed her charm and grace warded her from them.

He managed to keep up a smile further at her pervious comments, though, much of it he had deduced was flattery. He never perceived himself as being particularly attractive, or at least, from when he suffered as a result of his accident. He knew he had scowled at everything, watched everything with a serious look in his good eye, knowing that he was completely blighted in the other. He wondered whether that had stopped him from… but again, he tried not to let that dominate his thoughts. “No apologies needed, my lady. Such travelling can tire one out. I can imagine what it’s like travelling overseas.”

Interacting with:
Rose of Versailles

Mention:
Elise Ebele jones573