Fantasy The Other Side - Accepting Characters!

[Rosacea]

Princess Inara

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[youtube]

Taylor Swift

Anti-Hero

Inara stared absent-mindedly into the vanity mirror and occasionally winced as one of her maids fussed while combing her hair. Inara had arrived back at the castle later than scheduled, and she could tell her handmaids were anything but pleased. As a princess, it was inappropriate for Inara to wear anything ole' thing to her lessons, so her maids often spent long hours dressing her.

"Princess," Melody, her handmaid, pouted, " The Countess is going to be very displeased." Inara waved her comment away dismissingly and didn't say anything. Melody tugged hard as she pinned a nest of braids on top of Inara's head.

"Ow!" Shrieked Inara, feeling a little guilty. " Don't worry, Melody. You always meet the Countess' expectations. She shouldn't have anything to complain about as long as I'm covered, and my hair is up." After Melody pinned Inara's hair, she rustled through the armoire to find a suitable gown. It was a v-necked afternoon gown, artistically crafted in soft pink silk and hand embroidered with small red flowers.

Inara sighed. " Melody! Can't I wear my walking dress?" The handmaid shook her head incessantly, tugging harshly at Inara's corset strings. As Melody dressed the princess, " I thought you said I knew best? If you go dressed down any more than this, you'll get lashings on your legs again." Melody finished buttoning up Inara's dress, but the princess was already creeping towards the door. " Okay, okay! I hear you."

With this, Inara grabbed her slippers and started running towards the castle library for her evening lessons with Countess Eudora.

♡coded by uxie♡

((This is so very late and I apologise. Illness and writers block are an unfortunate combination. ))
((Outfit))​

Eudora Withersbury​

Countess Eudora winced slightly as a palace staff member unceremoniously slammed her pile of books on the libraries wooden table, doubtlessly damaging at least some of the already brittle leather covers.

“I kindly ask you to treat my property with the care and attention your occupation requires, if that is not too much to ask.” Eudora huffed, personally attacked by the lack of respect towards her books. She felt on edge as it was and did not appreciate the lack of effort. The maid, young and pig-tailed, startled and possessed the decency to look somewhat flustered.

“Perhaps you do not often experience the joy of traditional study, but it is somewhat easier to learn if the necessary utensils do not fall apart due to rough and ignorant manhandling.” The countess remarked coldly as she picked up an older textbook detailing the art of oratory speechwriting and thumbed through its first chapter. It wasn’t strictly necessary to bring her own course books, considering that her student had access to one of the finest book collections in Mirim, but Eudora preferred personal copies, worn-out as they were. Her books were uncensored and filled with additional information, which may come in handy to fill the princesses educational gaps. If they would get that far. If she was honest, the countess did not expect much from her new royal student. Eudora did not doubt if Princess Inara was intellectually able to grasp political or historical concepts. In most noble circles, the princess was appreciated for her wit and good conversation during state affairs and banquets. But she had never demonstrated a particular interest in politics or internal affairs. Princess Inara was widely assumed to stick to charity work and be the smiling, rose-tinted face of King Jeros regime. One day she would marry, bear children, and perhaps have a dessert named after her dazzling nature. Like many other aristocratic daughters, Inaras life seemed royally predetermined. While some princesses in the past had genuinely influenced the court, Eudora doubted that her majesty harboured such ambitions.

Perhaps she walked a little too closely among commoners and the needy, something that may come across as a gentle slight towards the upper class. But besides this curious tendency, the princess seemed to be entirely devoid of any real impact.

So, the sudden demand for tutelage made Eudora slightly uneasy. Why, out of the blue, had the princess decided she wished to receive courses regarding government and foreign policy? Did the recent political turmoil impact her? Did she perhaps even disagree with any of her fathers’ policies? As opposed to the crown prince, King Jero may have neglected to push his political views down his daughters throat. But even if the princess would genuinely be receptive to contradictory politics, Eudora wasn’t sure if the gamble would be worth it. What if King Jero had purposefully asked her to become his daughters tutor because he suspected something? As a ploy to deceive Eudora into saying something incriminating?

Those musings, while fear-inducing, made little sense. Either King Jero simply did not care about his daughter’s education enough to hire one of his lap-dogs, or he overlooked the extend of Eudora’s opposition to his policies. The countess strongly wished for the latter. Either way, her expectations towards the princess were low.

With exaggerated gentleness, the countess placed the book back on the table. Her majesty was late. All that rushing and the hurried change of clothes for nothing. With a sigh, Eudora sat down, taking care not to crease her skirt. At least her surroundings were pleasant. The smaller of two libraries in the castle, Wisteria Library housed roughly 300.000 copies of literature by national and foreign authors. Winding wooden bookcases and arched ceilings gave the room an airy feeling as the blazing fireplace nearby emanated an agreeable warmth.

Since the princess seemed to have vanished somewhere in the castles convoluted hallways, Eudora may as well get a head-start on actual, important work. She gently unscrewed her pen, a gift from Oliver, and started the tedious process of written communication.

 

[tityanya]

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𝐸𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾

I am here: Stables
With: Hector​

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more...⇙

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Emory came back into the stable as a servant was leading the Princess out. As the servant caught Emory's confused glance, his eyes went wide. "Ah, your highness! Her majesty the Queen requested to speak with Princess Oksana. It might be a while..." The servant said, sweat forming on his brow. "That's fine. Princess Oksana, please give my regards to my stepmother," Emory said, watching a little sadly as Princess Oksana left. Well, that just left him and Darius. Darius accepted Emory's apology, saying that it was understandable. A small, sad smile came to his face. Most people didn't understand why he was so upset. One egregious gossiper he had happened to overhear had said something to the effect of "It was a political marriage anyways, why doesn't he find comfort in one of his mistresses?" Bah, idiots. He wasn't like his father. And even if their marriage had political benefits, Emory married Alicia for love, end of story. All that is to say, Emory was a little touched that Darius said that his pain was understandable. That's all he ever really wanted someone to say.

"Well, I suppose since the Princess is indisposed for the foreseeable future, maybe we could go get the simple fare instead of seafood? I know you were more interested in that option, after all,"

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((ooc: a little short, sorry ))
((outfit))
((pictures of you))​

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

Hector Darius
Location: Stables
With: Emory
​

Hector dismounted and moved to stand next to Oksana when a servant in castle livery entered the stables and made a beeline for her. He bowed deeply, his nervous sweat filling the air with its sour smell, and announced Her Majesty, the Queen, required Princess Oksana to join her immediately to discuss a matter of importance.

“I’ll be right behind you, Princess.” He said, gesturing to the young stable hand to take Bear’s rains.

The servant cleared his throat and inclined his head respectfully, the barest flicker of fear lighting in his eyes before it was gone. “Apologies, Captain Darius, but Her Majesty requests only the Princess, and not her – begging your pardon, sir – overly large, ill-mannered guard. She wishes a private discussion.”

Hector blinked. Overly large? Ill-mannered? Both true. Why did people think he would be offended by it? Still, he scowled. Partly at being address as “Captain” and partly at the idea of Oksana going anywhere without him. “What does Her Majesty think I’m going to hear standing outside the door?” Aside from everything, but they wouldn't know that. “I’ve sworn an oath to both her father, and my king, to keep her safe. I will accompany her.”

The servant seemed to consider his next words carefully. “Captain. We are still on castle property. She is safe here.”

“You’ll pardon me if I don’t take your word for it.” Hector folded his arms across his chest and took a small step forward, feeling his patience, already stretched thin, unravel a little more. He stopped when Oksana placed her small hand on his forearm and looked down at her, meeting her pleading gaze.

The princess was far from helpless. He’d seen to that himself by teaching her what he could of combat whenever King Elliot and King Briar were visiting one another. Still, if anything happened to her and he wasn’t with her…

The ursine sucked in a breath, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Very well.” He bowed to Oksana. “Princess. Please be careful.”

The servant tutted softly, “Captain, I assure you, she is safe. We are surrounded by royal guards.” He spoke as if speaking to someone not too mentally adept. Hector knew it was an impression he cultivated here, in the hopes of making people feel more comfortable about speaking about things they might otherwise not while in his earshot, but right at this very second, it was the single, tiny, little thing to undo the tenuous hold he had on his temper.

His right hand snapped out, grabbed the servant by the collar of his shirt, and hoisted the man off his feet as easily as if he might lift a pillow from his bed. “That may be so.” He snarled in a dangerously quiet voice, “But none of them are me.”

“Hector!” Oksana’s voice rang out in a commanding tone.

Hector put the servant down and cleared his throat, feeling shame wash through him at his outburst. “Apologies.” He muttered, reaching out to smooth out the servant's rumpled shirt. Well, at the very least he’d secured his reputation as being a brutish idiot. He sighed softly, and watched Oksana leave the stables as Prince Emory entered, unable to stop the thread of worry from twisting his gut, which growled loudly, reminding him he was starving. He swore under his breath in Korillan.

He nodded when Prince Emory arrived, grateful for the distraction. “Hell, yes.” He agreed enthusiastically at the suggestion of simpler fare, glancing in the direction Oksana had gone. She was definitely angry with him, and he didn’t blame her. He’d get an earful later; that was guaranteed.

He turned his attention back to Prince Emory. “I guess I get to be your bodyguard for now, Prince. In the interest of your safety and security, would you object if I dropped the ‘Prince’ and ‘Highness’ while out and about in exchange for ‘my lord’?”

Hector mounted Bear again, who shifted impatiently beneath him, eager to be on his way. “Prince Emory, I owe you another apology.” He blurted. “Patience is not a virtue I possess sometimes, and I took my temper out on your servant. He’s unharmed, but I’m pretty sure I scared the living shit out of him.”

 

[tityanya]

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𝐸𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾

I am here: Roads
With: Hector​

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more...⇙

╔══════════════════════════╗​

Emory smiled at Darius' excitement over the simpler fare. It made him happy to see someone so excited, a welcome reprieve after the small emotional breakdown he had just had. He gave a chuckle when Darius said that he would be his bodyguard for the time-being, then. "Excellent! With a bear of a man like you on my side, no one will even think about approaching me," Emory cheered. He did a good enough job of looking intimidating on his own, but when people recognized him and really wanted an audience, it was hard to keep them away. He wasn't in a particularly social mood today, either. If it wasn't for Darius, he probably would have just gone back to his room and slept the day away. But he wanted to make an effort. Darius seemed like an easy kind of man for him to get along with. Emory loved people who didn't mince words and said what was on their mind.

"My Lord is perfectly fine by me. If you want, you could even drop the honorifics, at least while we're out." Emory wasn't certain if Darius would. He didn't entirely expect him to, especially since Emory had insisted on addressing him by last name. But at the very least, my lord was appreciated.

Darius mounted Bear, and Emory followed suit by mounting Oak. If Princess Oksana wasn't going, there was no need to burden Acacia. As they made their way out of the stable, Darius blurted out that he owed Emory an apology. Huh? Emory slowed Oak down so that he and Darius were riding side by side. Emory listened to Darius' confession, trying his best not to let a smirk show on his face. He almost succeeded. Darius sure was an interesting man. "Any man having you bear down on them would be rightfully terrified. I ask that you try to hold your temper around my servants, but I think your apology would best be reserved for him. After all, it's his pants that need to be cleaned, not mine," Emory told the man. His voice was stern yet kind, probably the most "princely" tone Darius had heard from the Prince yet. The last sentence was said with a bit of a cheeky smile, though.

"What did he say to piss you off?" While Darius was the Princess' bodyguard, he was also a guest in the castle. While Emory wouldn't tolerate him taking his anger out on the servants, he also wanted to make sure his servants weren't intentionally making people mad. If it was some grievous offence, Emory would make sure that the servant got a stern talking-to as well. While Emory didn't condone it, some nobles were...as short tempered as Darius, but with none of the good-nature to them. Even mild insults could be blown out of proportion with those type of people. If there was a problem servant with Darius, then that problem servant could get into even bigger trouble with a high-ranking noble.

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((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((pictures of you))​

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

Hector Darius
Location: Roads
With: Emory​

A bear of a man? Hector glanced at Prince Emory with a wry smirk. Oh, boy, if he only knew how close to hitting the nail on the head he was. Not for the first time, he wondered at the wisdom of not using an alias while here, but mentally waved it away. It was pointless pondering when he could no longer change it. Besides, the most effective deception stayed as close to the truth as possible. He was confident anyone he worked with back home would be smart enough to lie on his behalf if anyone here in Mirim thought to verify his story of being a gifted human in King Briar’s service. This wasn’t exactly his first play at mingling with humans in places where it wasn’t safe to be anything but human.

Hector shook himself out of his thoughts when Prince Emory said he could address him as my lord, or as long as they weren’t on castle grounds, by his name. His brows shot up. He often called the Princess by her first name when they weren’t in formal situations, but that was different. He’d known Oksana since she was a tiny little girl. He saved her life. He taught her to fight. He smiled and nodded at the prince. “All right then. It’ll be as you say, as long we’re out.”

So far, Emory was a good man. Reasonably down-to-earth, or at least as much as someone raised with all the privileges of the heir to Mirim’s throne could be. It would be too easy to relax around him. Hector would have to be cautious.

What did the servant say to him? For a moment after Emory asked, the only thing to be heard was the music of the horse’s hooves hitting the ground mingling with the creaking of Hector’s thick leather armour, the whispering sound of the snowfall and the distant noise of guards calling to each other on the walls.

He took a breath, “King Briar commanded me to make sure Princess Oksana comes to no harm while outside her home, and I take that order seriously. I have known her a long time, Your Highness. She always sees the best of people, in spite of her past, so I worry she’ll find herself in trouble before she realizes the full scope of the danger she’s in. It’s a talent of hers, to find trouble. So, the servant came in to tell Princess Oksana Her Majesty required her presence, I made my intent to follow be known. He told me my presence wasn’t welcome, and he repeated some of Her Majesty words, unfortunately. I took no offense to the Queen calling me ‘overly large’ and ‘ill-mannered’. She’s right. I am overly large and ill-mannered; however, it’s not his job to repeat it. Especially in front of the Princess I am working for.”

He fell silent for a moment as they left the castle grounds, nodding at the guards standing there, “Honestly, it really wasn’t anything he said. It was how he said it. I protested leaving her outside of my protection, and that I wasn’t likely to hear anything I wasn’t supposed to if I stood guard outside a door. He reminded me we were on castle grounds, surrounded by guards, and he did it as if he were explaining it to a mouth-breathing, idiotic fool needing to be spoon fed baby pap. I’m no genius, true. It’s just…I was already cranky, OK? I hauled him off his feet before I realized what I was doing, and snarled at something at him about none of the guards being me. Then Oksana barked at me and I put him down, unharmed. Physically. I did apologize to him, but I can do so again, if you wish it.”

 

[toriable2016]

scroll

Otherfolk

Nevan.

mood

scared, exhausted

outfit

cotton tunic and brown breeches

location

Farmlands

interactions

Shepard and his family; and Shikar

tags

tags here

Before the older man in the window could respond, the door to the small farmhouse had flung open. Nevan, panicked, backed up against the chimney on all fours. Instinct was taking over, and he struggled to keep his human glamour intact. As Nevan breathed hard into the cold, his breath rose around him in a heavy mist. His eyes followed the young boy on the roof as he inched closer to Nevan.

As the boy spoke, Nevan shifted to move further away from him and hissed back. "That not sound of help." Nevan spoke in broken English, his pronunciation heavy yet musical. From his current distance, Nevan could discern that the Otherfolk smell from before was the young man standing before him. Curiosity fueled his determination as he stood on two legs, holding his ground. "You-not human," he started hesitantly, unsure if he was understood. " How in house wit hoomans?" Nevan was baffled why they could coexist in the same space, but he was a threat. Everything he had learned about the human world and what little he knew about his world had him in conflict with himself.

He was overwhelmed with loneliness from being rejected by humans and dragonkin and held a quiet animosity towards the person in front of him for being an exception to the rule. Nevan just wanted to belong somewhere.

♡coded by uxie♡

@Genii TaperedNightjar

 

[toriable2016]

Princess Inara

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[youtube]

Taylor Swift

Anti-Hero

As Inara's slippered feet hit the burgundy-carpeted halls of the palace, she felt a rush of adrenaline course through her. She was raised not to show too much emotion to others and to always practice careful poise. Running full speed down the halls felt so freeing, despite the quiet guilt of going against palace norms. Her sheltered impulses ignited into a small flame as she flew past scolding servants and the disgruntled stares of passing aristocrats. Giggling, she flung herself onto the stair railings and slid to the floor below.

Nearing the library, she ran even faster. Everything passed in a blur as she lost herself to the air whizzing through her hair. By the time she burst through library doors, breathing heavily and disheveled, she was completely unaware she had lost one of her slippers on the way. Inara was coming to her senses in the doorway as her eyes met the Countess' figure sitting silently at a nearby table. In a panicked frenzy, hoping the Countess hadn't seen her, Inara hurried to smooth her loose hair back into place. However, she would have to move quickly to avoid the Countess finding out about her missing shoe. Inara smoothed her skirts as she walked briskly towards the table, hoping to cover her feet as she moved.

Resisting the urge to throw herself in the chair across from the Countess, she greeted the Countess formally. "Countess Eudora, good evening. I apologize for my tardiness," she said with a curtsey, "It took longer than I thought to return from the town center." With this, she took out her journal and fountain pen to appear alert and ready to receive instruction.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[tityanya]

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𝐸𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾

I am here:
With: ​

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more...⇙

╔══════════════════════════╗​

Emory caught Darius' wry smirk at being called a bear of a man. The statement seemed to bring the man a lot of amusement, much to Emory's wonder. He hadn't thought it was particularly funny. But if Darius enjoyed it, that was a win for him, right? Darius' eyebrows raised in surprise when Emory asked him to call him solely by his name. The Prince understood. Most nobles were so tied up in their titles, it was a part of who they were. To deny them their title was to deny their identity. But while Emory was the Crown Prince, he didn't consider that his sole identity. It was a facet of who he was, for sure. But in his mind, first and foremost he was the man, Emory. A shy and awkward man that often put his foot in his mouth, but always strove to do his best and correct his mistakes. That's who he was. After a moment of thought, Darius agreed to Emory's request, so long as they were out. Good. He didn't want the strange looks and stares he'd get otherwise.

On their ride, Darius grew quiet after Emory's gentle reprimand, thinking of what the servant had said to him. Emory waited patiently, guiding them towards the castle gates. He could hear the sounds of guards shouting, no doubt about their approach and to open the gates. After the moment of silence, Darius spoke. Emory listened as Darius succinctly explained his feelings about the safety of Princess Oksana, before going into what the servant had said. Emory's mouth fell agape. He didn't doubt for a second that his step-mother had said those things about Darius. Darius even agreed with them. Emory wasn't entirely sure about the ill-mannered part, as their interactions thus far had been mostly pleasant. Once Darius understood why Emory was in the Princess' room.

Emory was silent for a moment, trying his best to process what Darius told him. "How incredibly inappropriate. He blatantly insulted you to your face, and repeated the Queen's private words. I'm certain that she would be incredibly upset to know that he was repeating things she had said in private. What a complete dumbass..." The last words were muttered, the princely tone gone from Emory's voice. He was going to have to have a talk with the Queen and the Head of Staff about this servant's behavior.

They passed through the gates of the castle, Emory giving them a nod similar to Darius'. The duo were in silence for a little while longer, as Emory began to navigate the streets of the city. There was little hustle and bustle out today, most people holed up in their homes to escape the snow and the cold. Only the most foolish and the most determined would go out in a storm like this. Which one was Darius and him, he wondered?

Darius spoke up again after a moment, further explaining how the servant had treated him like an imbecile, and it inflamed his temper. Emory's earlier fears about the servant saying the wrong thing to the wrong person only heightened. Some people wouldn't have stopped where Darius did. "Fucking dumbass," Emory muttered again, about the servant. "He's lucky it wasn't worse. I'll have the head of staff speak to him about how his behavior was completely inappropriate, and that he needs to apologize to you. There are far worse nobility out there who think of servants as property to use and abuse. If you feel like your apology was adequate, then there is no need to repeat it. But if you want to try again with a more level head, I wouldn't discourage it." Emory said, after a moment of thinking.

The Prince took a deep breath and sighed, watching his breath turn into steam in the cold air. "Now, what do you say about putting this whole conversation behind us and talking about something a little less...stuffy. More as peers?" Emory proposed. He was emotionally done with being princely, even though it was only for a short amount of time.

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((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((pictures of you))​

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

Hector Darius
Location: Stables
With: Emory​

Hector thought briefly of the servant offering an apology while scratching at his beard. Humans were practically deaf, had no real sense of smell and were blind in the dark. It made sense for them to rely too much on unnecessary words, but words were deceptive. A person could say things full of flowers and sincerity, while smelling rotten as a river of dead fish. Among the Ursine, if one felt wronged by another, they acted on it, and if the other looked down, looked away or turned away, and smelled apropriately afraid, or at least contrite, it was enough. If not, well...blood was spilled. Hector knew the servant regretted his words. As soon as his feet left the ground, that servant stank of fear and regret. It was enough for him, but it might be necessary for him to make a show of it.

"He doesn't need to apologize to me." He grunted. "My ego doesn't need it. though amends to the princess wouldn't be a bad idea, as well as his sincere thanks for her intervention on his behalf." He felt the ghost of his anger twist in his chest like an old friend and he took a deep breath. "He is a fucking dumbass, but I'm also a fucking brute. I'll take his apology if you and the Queen think it's necessary, and I'll apologize for rumpling his shirt. I don't know. Maybe he's new and was feelling full of himself after being sent on a personal errand for The Queen."

He saw weariness creep into Emory's eyes, and heard it touch his tone when he requested they talk of something else. He had no idea what it was like to be prince, but it couldn't be easy. Especially with a father like King Jero and a step mother like Queen Helen. They probably weren't the doting parents his were. There were certain expectations Ursine parents had, but they did everything they could to make sure their children grew up cared for, healthy and strong. "All right then, Emory." Hector bared his teeth in a grin. "What would you like to talk about? I'm afraid I'm not very exciting. Eat, protect, eat, fight, protect more, eat more, sleep, repeat. Though, the weather I help deal with back home is pretty exciting."

He reached under his cloak to pull his rank insignia off his chest and put it in his pouch. If the prince was going to go rankless, so was he, and thankfully.

 

[tityanya]

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𝐸𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾

I am here:
With: ​

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more...⇙

╔══════════════════════════╗​

Darius scratched at his beard for a moment, thinking on if he wanted the apology. Emory let him think, glad for the lull in conversation. Was it actually a good idea after all to go out? Maybe he should have just stayed in. No doubt after this he was going to collapse into bed for the rest of the day. But even though it was tiring, there was a small part of Emory that was excited. It had been so long since he'd left the castle. The change of scenery was a breath of fresh air. The city coated in snow was majestic, peaceful. The streets were a bit off a mess between the horse and carriage tracks, but as he looked at the undisturbed snow on roofs with chimneys belching steam and smoke, he was almost glad that he was out.

Darius spoke up, saying that he didn't need an apology, but Princess Oksana would. Emory dragged his hand across his face. Of course that servant would be loose-tongued in front of a foreign dignitary. If he was revealing the Queen's private insults to foreign princesses and their guards, what was he saying to other people? Despite Emory's best efforts, he was still his father's son, and that came with a "healthy" dose of paranoia. No doubt King Jero would order that the servant's tongue be cut out. Emory didn't want to go to that extreme. He would talk to Queen Helen, and get her opinion on what should be done with him. Helen knew about Jero's temper better than most. She would decide whether this was something to tell the king about, or keep between them. The man was her servant, after all.

Darius continued, saying that he'd take the apology if he and the Queen deemed it necessary. Ah, the Queen did love pomp and circuses. "She might. The Queen cares about appearances very much. She might just request it so she can be absolutely sure that the servant apologizes properly." Emory laughed at Darius' words about the servant being new and haughty. "I couldn't say, I'm not too familiar with all her staff. But sometimes the older staff think they're an extension of her themselves, and that everything they say is above reproach." Emory hated talking to those servants. Too full of themselves, they were.

Emory requested a change of conversation, and Darius agreed. Emory breathed a sigh of relief. They were out on the town, ready to eat a hearty breakfast! It was time to leave the pomp and circumstance behind. The use of his first name even brought a small smile to Emory's face. He knew that he would never be one of the common people, and he didn't see the point in trying to pretend to be. But at the very least, he could leave behind the responsibilities in the castle. But as Darius asked what they should talk about instead, Emory drew a blank for a moment. He smirked at Darius' quip of his day being eating, protecting, fighting, and sleeping. Emory wished his days could be as simple. "Tell me about your home, then. What's it like? Does this storm compare to anything you get there?" Emory was fairly certain that Darius had come from Korillo, not Eastwind like Princess Oksana. It was a harsh country full of storms, and the people there were hardened against them. No doubt to Darius, this storm was a trivial affair. It wasn't enough to keep them trapped inside, after all.

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((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((pictures of you))​

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

Hector Darius
Location: On horseback in near empty streets
With: Emory
​

Hector looked at the snow falling around them and shrugged. "I can still see past the falling snow. This is fine, even though I hate winter. Some animals have the right idea. They sleep through it." He looked around the mostly empty streets, "Back home, this wouldn't stop anyone from getting anything done. The streets are as busy and full in weather like this as they are on a clear day. If roofs aren't collapsing, rocks not falling, water not surging indoors, and the ground isn't sliding off to somewhere it isn't supposed to be, it's all good."

"The weather is the first thing everyone thinks of when they hear anyone mention Korillo. We get it all. Our floods are floodier, our slides, slidier, our droughts, droughtier and fires from lightning? Forget it. Then everyone asks 'But why live there?'" Hector looked at Emory with a small smile. Korillans didn't give a rat's ass who you were. Human? Gifted human? Otherfolk? If you're decent and willing to help in a crisis, you be you. In fact, it was the one place in the world where being something other than human was usually a perk. "I've spent just as much time hip deep in water and/or mud and/or snow, physically holding up a retaining wall so civilians can get to safety, or hauling debris off of people so they can be pulled to safety, as I have spent doing regular military duties, but, Emory, I wouldn't live anywhere else. In most places, you can turn in a circle and see gigantic mountains in every direction, unless you're on the coast, but even that's a lot more rugged than most other coast lines. People there are generally just decent, hard-working folks. You'll never see any group of people come together to help in a crisis more readily and efficiently than us. Or, come together in support when the rescue effort stops and the...retrieval, if you get my meaning, starts. Also, not everything is bad weather, there."

He paused, thinking of how the sun glistened off the water droplets clinging to everything after a rainfall, and the smell of the damp, rich soil, or the heavy mineral smell of wet rocks. The deadly beauty of an ice storm. A cold so deep lakes froze thick enough for even the Ursine to skate on, or sitting on a rocky outcrop in the heat of the summer with your feet dangling in the water and the warm breeze brushing through your hair. The pungent, heady stink of spawning season, when bears and Ursine alike competed for fish. The way everyone put their all into everything they did, be it work, rescue or play.

He laughed suddenly. "Well, that was a speech. Tell me, Emory. Have you met many Korillans?"

 

[tityanya]

.

𝐸𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾

I am here: Streets
With: Hector​

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more...⇙

╔══════════════════════════╗​

Emory's suspicions were proven correct when Darius said that the weather was fine, that he could still see through it. "I wish humans could just hibernate through winter, as well. Gets us to spring all the sooner," Emory commented, visions of flowers dancing in his head. Alicia wouldn't be here this year to fill their chambers with flowers. That thought saddened him, and his shoulders drooped as he listened to Darius speak about how the streets would still be full in Korillo on a day like this. What an interesting concept. Life went on as usual over there, while here it ground to a halt. Darius began speaking more about Korillo, specifically about how bad the weather was, and how it was everyone's first thought. Heh, well, Emory wasn't exempt from that.

Darius' eyes began to twinkle as he talked about the hardships of Korillo. Emory could tell that he loved his homeland very much, despite the hardships he described. Holding a retaining wall so that civilians could escape…that was impressive. Emory couldn’t help but admire the raw strength that must have taken. Physical and mental. The imagery of mountains in every direction sounded beautiful. As did the strong community Darius described. While Emory liked to believe that people in Mirim were willing to help their neighbors, he got the feeling that it was nothing like what Darius was describing. People used to hardship needed each other. You helped your neighbor fix his roof today, he helped you fix your wall tomorrow.

The two rode in silence for a moment, musing on their own thoughts, before Darius broke it with a laugh. Had Emory met many Korillans? ”Unfortunately, no. My dad is what some would call “over-protective” and hasn’t ever let me leave the country. Especially to Korillo. I asked before when I was younger, and he said it was way too dangerous of a place for him to send his heir to. So I’ve really only ever met dignitaries that came here. And I think we both know that the nobility isn’t a good way to get a feeling for how the country is,” Emory told Darius with a laugh. ”So I think you’re the first real Korillan I’ve met. Congratulations,” he added with a cheeky smirk.

╚══════════════════════════╝

((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((pictures of you))​

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

Hector Darius
Location: On horseback in near empty streets
With: Emory​

Hector noticed a subtle shift in Prince Emory’s scent and watched his shoulders slump slightly as the Ursine spoke about his home. He didn’t understand the man’s grief, and hopefully never would, and he couldn’t help but wonder what, if anything, he said made the prince think of his wife. No doubt everything ran the risk of making him think of her.

“Well, so far, you’re nothing like your father, so congratulations right back to you.” Hector laughed. Heaven forbid the man be allowed to travel to other countries and form his own opinions, though it seems he may already have, in spite of King Jero’s efforts. Hopefully in matters about me and others like me. Otherfolk. He thought.

“Most nobility aren’t the best gauge of the type of people in a country…or it’s health, true, but there are a few exceptions, in my experience, present company included. Not that my experience is so vast it means much, though I'd guess it's most vast than yours." He teased, "Also, most people in Korillo have better manners than me, so there’s that.” He shrugged, looking to one side as he heard the distant sound of kids laughing. Nothing was better than the sound of laughing children, and he would normally smile at it, but it sounded as if it was outside Emory’s range of hearing, so he kept his face neutral and settled his gaze on one of the few people braving the streets. She was a middle aged woman, bundled up for the cold and laden down with bags, too focused on keeping her head down against the snow to pay much attention to the pair on horseback until they were passing. She looked up, startled, and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Hector on his horse and the obviously wealthy man beside him.

He gave her a brief nod and turned his attention back to Prince Emory, “One other difference between here and home; we’d both need to dodge snowballs. The kids would be out droves in this weather.” His stomach rumbled loudly as he caught the smell of food on the shifting wind. “Please tell me we’re nearly there.”

 

[Rosacea]

Princess Inara

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[youtube]

Taylor Swift

Anti-Hero

As Inara's slippered feet hit the burgundy-carpeted halls of the palace, she felt a rush of adrenaline course through her. She was raised not to show too much emotion to others and to always practice careful poise. Running full speed down the halls felt so freeing, despite the quiet guilt of going against palace norms. Her sheltered impulses ignited into a small flame as she flew past scolding servants and the disgruntled stares of passing aristocrats. Giggling, she flung herself onto the stair railings and slid to the floor below.

Nearing the library, she ran even faster. Everything passed in a blur as she lost herself to the air whizzing through her hair. By the time she burst through library doors, breathing heavily and disheveled, she was completely unaware she had lost one of her slippers on the way. Inara was coming to her senses in the doorway as her eyes met the Countess' figure sitting silently at a nearby table. In a panicked frenzy, hoping the Countess hadn't seen her, Inara hurried to smooth her loose hair back into place. However, she would have to move quickly to avoid the Countess finding out about her missing shoe. Inara smoothed her skirts as she walked briskly towards the table, hoping to cover her feet as she moved.

Resisting the urge to throw herself in the chair across from the Countess, she greeted the Countess formally. "Countess Eudora, good evening. I apologize for my tardiness," she said with a curtsey, "It took longer than I thought to return from the town center." With this, she took out her journal and fountain pen to appear alert and ready to receive instruction.

♡coded by uxie♡

Eudora Withersbury
​

FINALLY! I am sorry, writers block is very annoying but no excuse to make everyone wait.​

Eudora rose to her feet as the princess curtsied and skilfully wove an apology out of her charitable escapades. It may have been more effective, had her majesty not looked so unapologetically dishevelled. Inara was known for her polished beauty and impeccable style across the kingdom. The unique gowns and non-traditional hairstyles the princess wore during public gatherings had slowly grown popular among the aristocracy as the pinnacle of refined elegance. Though other members of the royal family were well groomed, No one else influenced the fashions of the court so strongly. Which was why it was…interesting to see the princess looking as if she had an unpleasant encounter with a Windigo. Or perhaps a dog. A wild dog.

After Inara finished speaking, Eudora promptly sank into a low, sweeping curtsy, smiling thinly at her student to hide the annoyance most likely radiating from her cold stare.

“I am glad her royal highness could find the time in her charitable schedule to start our lessons. If you do not mind me asking, are there any specific topics you’d like to discuss?” She asked neutrally.

The countess did not mind having to wait. She was someone who was always early, no matter the situation. This pet peeve of hers regularly annoyed trade partners and nobles alike, who would find themselves forcefully interrogated before their social event even started. It was a habit that perhaps could be (and had been) criticized as the rude mannerism of an insecure foreigner. The older Ladies of the court would sometimes glee-fully remember the time a young, unexperienced debutante had pointedly been made to wait 15 minutes by the queen. But being thrown into an entirely new country, with its fashions and social norms, did give one the habit of seeking control. Or watching out for potential conflict. So, the Countess did not mind waiting. But she did mind waiting for something she wasn’t looking forward to. Especially if it was missing a slipper.

No matter, they were stuck together for the time being. Where should she start her lesson? Eudora stifled a sigh. By the gods, she did not feel like discussing the rudimentals of statemanship with a protegee used to constant praise and consensus.

The King had most certainly meant for this to be a punishment.

The countess effortlessly rose out of her ridiculously deep curtsy and stood before the princess. At least her new student looked motivated. She’d have to see how long that would last.
One option for this lesson she had earlier considered, was simply boring the Princess to death. A young girl would surely not be willing to talk about the logistics of the salt-trade for an extended period of time, especially if there was no relation or first-hand experience. Eudora was confident that, if she desired to be, she could be the most mind numbingly dull mentor the world had ever seen. After all, she spend enough time with lukewarm men to learn the art of aristocratic obnoxiousness.

For some reason, she did not feel drawn to that course of action just yet.
Really, a good teacher ought to know how knowledgeable their pupil was.

That sentiment, Perhaps set in motion by a surprising sense of duty, or genuine interest, caused the countess to surprise herself. Maybe it was something about the way the princess was watching her with eagerness and a hint of desperation, a feeling achingly familiar to Eudora. Or maybe she was just bored.

“And most importantly, has her royal highness ever attended parliament?”

 

[TaperedNightjar]

Vyrik​

• Location: Streets of Florien.
• With: A woman with pretty pink hair (Robin).
• Wearing: A worn coat, sandy colored cloak, leather boots, brown woolen shirt and brown pants.
• General status: Injured, ill, malnourished, generally unwell.

Vyrik watched as the Princess left with her entourage. Brown eyes moved to the basket he now held in his hands and his stomach grumbled at the sight of fresh bread. Boris had been feeding him well, but has stressed to the Moonwing that it was important to pace himself as he gained his weight back. Vyrik's mouth watered as he stared at the food. The sound of a voice drew his eyes away.

A petite woman stood next to him. She was a few inches shorter than himself and her hair was pink with a white stripe. Vyrik stared at her as she spoke. Never before had he seen such hair. He wondered if the color was natural or if she was using a tonic to dye it, similar to how he was currently using one to change the color of his eyes. It took the scraggly man a moment to process what she had said to him. His face colored a bit from embarrassment. "Bribes?" He questioned. His accent was so thick it almost sounded like he said 'brabes.' His brows furrowed just slightly and his nose scrunched.

"Bribes with that... man?" He questioned again. It was clear that he did not think much of the guard. "I prefer to stay far from men like that," his words were a little jolted and his pronunciations were not the best but he thought he did well enough at getting his point across to the woman who stood next to him. "But I cannot watch horses be mistreated."

Gremewlyn

​

 

[TaperedNightjar]

Shikari​

• Location: Shepherd's house.
• With: Shepherd, Mae, Oan, Connie, Nevan.
• Wearing: [x] and a white knit jumper.
• General status: Injured but patched up.

Shikari's brows narrowed a bit as he studied the intruder. They spoke broken Common. His own knowledge of the language was less than stellar, but it was clear that Nevan had even less experience with it than himself. The Hawkling hesitated. He had always been taught to be cautious of strangers. It wasn't uncommon for the Eagles to disguise themselves to get the upper-hand, and not all who non-avians who dwelled along the borders of the desert were friendly either. Although he kept this in mind he also did not want to be cruel to Nevan if he didn't intend on causing them harm. He himself had been lucky that Shepherd's family was willing to help him instead of turning him in.

An exasperated sigh escaped his chapped lips, "They are good humans. Why are you here?" he questioned.

Shikari didn't have time for all of this. Vyrik was wounded and needed to be found. The Moonwing was good at hiding pain, but he had already been injured before they were attacked last night. If Shikari didn't find his companion soon he feared the worst would happen. if Vyrik died, then well that would defeat the whole purpose of them being in Mirim in the first place. Shikari wanted to check the forest but it clearly wasn't going to happen. Not without this stranger following. The Hawkling weighed his options and within moments he had cleared the roof and was quickly trudging through the snow. It was partly a test. If Nevan followed him it would lead him away from Shepherd's family long enough for Shikari to get a better read him. If Nevan didn't follow him then he'd double back to keep watch over the family.

toriable2016

 

[tityanya]

𝐸𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾

I am here: Streets
With: Hector​

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more...⇙

╔══════════════════════════╗​

You're nothing like your father. The words sent an electric shock through Emory. He was a little confused on how it made him feel--overall, he thought that those words might have...pleased him? So many people in Mirim told him he was the spitting image of his father, how he barely took after his mother at all. To be told he wasn't anything like the King was...new. But Emory knew that he wasn't like his father, outside of appearance. Having someone else recognize that was nice. "Thank you," Emory finally managed, his voice a little gruff with emotion. He knew better than to pretend to be anything but the good little heir for Jero, one that he wouldn't disinherit somehow--but something about Darius felt trustworthy to Emory. He could perhaps show a little smidgen of his true self to him.

Darius continued, agreeing that nobility wasn't a good measure of the people of a country. Emory couldn't help but smile when Darius said that he was an exception to that, though. He laughed, maybe a little ruefully, when Darius said that he had more experience with people in general. "I would much prefer your gruff style of 'no manners' than the bullshit layered 'polite' remarks the other nobles make that leave you looking like a fool if you don't understand them," Emory said. He had fallen victim to such viscous attacks in the past before. Now he just preferred to remain silent and not participate. Darius was a breath of fresh air, in that sense--Emory could already tell where he stood with the man. "And if everyone in Korillo is more polite than you, I get the feeling I'd get along with them just fine," he added, shivering a little as a cold breeze hit them.

Emory followed Darius' glance, making eye contact with a woman laden down with bags on the street. Emory could see the surprise and apprehension in her face. coming across a rich man and his giant guard...Emory couldn't blame her. Everyone should give such a duo a wary glance, in his opinion. Emory gave her a smile, wondering if he should offer to help her with her bags. Would she even trust him? Darius spoke up again, saying that back home there would be children in droves throwing snowballs at them. Emory laughed at that. "We might see some little buggers, yet! The nobles are too prissy to let their children out in the snow, but the common folk aren't. Maybe after we eat, we can go find a snowball fight to participate in," Emory told Darius, before retuning his attention to the woman.

Sure, Darius was hungry and begging for food...but Emory couldn't just let this lone woman struggle. He stopped Oak, and rounded back to the woman. He could see her whole body tense up, clearly on-guard for whatever reason Emory decided to turn around. "Do you need some help, miss? Darius and I could help you carry some of your things," he asked, prepared for rejection but wanting to offer his aid anyways. It was the good thing to do.

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((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((pictures of you))​

.

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

Hector Darius
Location: On horseback in near empty streets
With: Emory​

Hector imagined not many people had the courage to tell Emory he was nothing like his father; at least not to his face, judging from the emotions the prince struggled to keep in check. He nodded in response to Emery's genuine expression of gratitude. The captain's father had been a hard man, but fair and caring, in a gruff way. It was genuinely the way of most Ursine, though there was always at least one who gave the whole lot a bad name. Their existence in any Ursine sleuth was never suffered for long. People like King Jerod would have been killed or run out without a second thought, and there wouldn't be much he could do about it. You just didn't tolerate anything bad for the majority. Humans held ridiculous attachments to sworn oaths, even when the one they swore to broke that covenant. It was one reason why the Otherfolk rebellion failed here. Blind loyalty of people willing to defend a despot.

He released a loud guffaw of laughter when Emory admitted he preferred his ill mannered bluntness. "No one ever accused me of dripping anything I said in honey. Honestly, I'm not clever enough for it, and if that's what you like I won't disappoint." He grinned at Emory, "And snowball fights? I'm a good ally to have. Kids use me as a barrier."

When Emory noticed the woman and turned around, Hector did as well without complaint. He would have offered his help himself, but, since Emory had the higher rank, it was ultimately his choice. Hector could honestly say he wasn't upset at all about it, despite his growing hunger. The woman backed up several steps as Emory offered their help, holding her bags closer to herself while she struggled to bob a respectful curtsy in the snow. "I can manage, thank you, m'lord." she said in a voice quavering with cold and fear, "I've not got far to go. Don't trouble yourselves."

Hector heaved his shoulders into a shrug. "It's no trouble, miss. I'm happy to help." He said as gently as he could manage, which wasn't much. He slowly spread his hands to show he held no weapon. "No strings attached, or may every single hair fall off my body."

She didn't seem to find it reassuring, or amusing. Most people of wealth or rank wouldn't have bothered to notice her. They would ride by without a glance or, worse, purposefully ride so close to the side she would have no choice but to step into the high snow drifts against the rows of buildings or risk being trampled. If they did offer help, there would be a price to pay for that help. She looked fearfully from Emory to Hector, edging back. "it's very kind of you to offer, but..."