Fantasy The Other Side - Accepting Characters!

[Jaw Breakcore]

Jasper Clementine
Location: Maple Hill
Interactions: Seamus Deckard

Jasper was expecting the excitement but not the sudden open friendliness. The moment the man wrapped an arm around him, his enter body rippled in goosebumps and his shoulders stiffened. He was ingulfed in his copper smell, no hint of magic in his veins, just human beneath all that flesh. His nose flares, no one has touched him in so long that the feeling felt almost slimy. If this was before he can imagine his father's hazy figure grabbing the man by the bicep and thrusting him away, glaring down at him with his sharp bat nose. Or maybe Sulliven lightly hitting the man's knees with his cane and politely threatening him to step back.
But they weren't here anymore, and all Jasper can feel is the man's pulsing heart.
Who lays hands on others without permission?!
His mind was dancing, only hearing the other's rambling in one ear. He grits his teeth.

Calm down. Don't make a scene now, what was the last thing he said?
Something about a signature?
He looks between the other and his partition. "Oh no... I didn't know at all, sir."
If he's rambling about the ocean, he may have mentioned it's pollution.
"I sure hope the fish-ys be okay. I'll sign if it helps!"
Jasper tugs the corner of his lips into a smile, bouncing lightly on his shoes.

 

[TaperedNightjar]

Shikari​

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

The possibility of it snowing into spring took the Hawkling by surprise. This journey he had taken with Vyrik had been the first time either of them had seen snow. Shikari had thought it was beautiful right away but the cold and wet was extremely uncomfortable to him. He had noticed that Vyrik's opinion of the snow seemed oddly... neutral. Both had lived their whole young lives in the desert but the cold damp didn't bother the Moonwing nearly as much. Shikari found it a bit odd. Sure, the desert was freezing at night but it was nothing like this.

"The snow is beautiful but-" He stopped mid sentence when Shepherd and Oan made their way inside.

Shikari twitched a bit at Oan's tone. For a split second the Hawkling considered retreating back to Shepherd's bedroom. This thought was quickly shoved aside as he remembered that the folks he was staying with were kind. Oan was simply expressing his frustration. However, the more Shikari listened, the more he realized that Shepherd's farther was likely masking fear with frustration. He couldn't blame the man. It sounded like Shepherd had quite the run-in with someone who worked directly under the King. He had the sinking feeling that this entire ordeal could have been connected to Vyrik and himself.

Shikari looked over at Shepherd who was seated next to him. "Was this last night? What did he want help with? Why did you hit him?"

The Hawkling was leaning toward Shepherd a little bit and there was anxiety coating his tone. "I wonder if he works with the guards who chased Vyrik and I down last night..." His stomach twisted at the thought of it all being connected. Then a new fear came to him. Was Vyrik ok? Shikari felt a bit panicked as he turned back to the cup of willow tea that sat in front of him. "I need to find him. Today. He's very sick and those dogs and guards hurt him. I don't think he will be okay on his own much longer." Hopefully he had found somewhere to rest out of the elements.

Genii

 

[Genii]

Shepherd
Location: Sheep farm
With: Shikari, Oan & Mae, Connie.

“Shepherd.” Mae joined in with the scolding.

“He asked for it, Ma… the big bully.” Shepherd grumpily mumbled before turning to Shikari.

“Yes, I was just by the edge of the forest. He wanted one of my sheep… for bait I think? When I said no, he…” Shepherd wasn’t exactly sure how to describe what he’d seen. Floating sheep? “… well, he threatened us, so I slapped him.”

Oan sighed from the stress of it all, rubbing his snow-bitten brow. All these years of being careful and overlooked…

When Shikari suggested Vyrik could be involved, Shep shared his concern - especially as he’d heard screams in the woods. “We should go to Garwood and look for him.”

“Oh no. You’re not going there if there’s a monster skulking about - and what about this!?” Mae stressed, waving the letter around. “-eat your breakfast Dear, it’ll go cold.” She quickly added for Shikari, referring the food in front of him.

“The letter doesn’t specify a time, does it. I want to help Shikari find his friend. He’ll get lost by himself… or worse.” Shepherd gently argued, to his rather cross looking guardians. “I can go apologise later.”

Mae wanted to keep both boys safe, but if Shepherd didn’t attend that summons…

“… I’ll go with them.” Oan said after moment of awkward silence. “Check the Forest first… where you last saw your friend, and then I’ll take Shepherd to the castle… see if I can’t offer some sort of… compensation. Make them look the other way.”

“That’s not fair. The rider was the one who-“ Shepherd started.

“Shepherd.” Oan calmly warned as he made a start on his breakfast.

Shepherd’s long ears drooped as he closed his mouth into a grumpy pout.

 

[toriable2016]

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Otherfolk

Nevan.

mood

curious

outfit

cotton tunic and brown breeches

location

Farmlands

interactions

Shepard, his family, and Shikari

tags

tags here

Despite Nevan's interaction with one of the guards the previous night, he had made it to the following day unscathed. He awoke nestled within the same tree branch, his stomach gurgling incessantly. Stretching his limbs, he breathed in the frost-bitten morning air and jumped down from the tree.

Suddenly, he caught wind of something delicious in the air and decided to follow it. Cautiously, he peeked around the nearby barn to see if the smell was coming from inside. While the barn animals were enticing, this smelled much more sublime. Nearby the barn, there was a small farmhouse. Was the smell coming from there? He thought momentarily of just taking the livestock from the barn, but the previous night's events had him curious. Surely, the guards hadn't tracked his scent here after all the precautions he took? He was also picking up on another peculiar scent mixed among the humans'.

Nevan had experienced previous run-ins with the guards who hunted Otherfolk, as he learned people like himself were called, and he had been desperately trying to find answers about who he was and why he had spent all those years in confinement. He lost track of how long he had been wandering, but this was as close as he would be to an answer.

He darted under a windowsill where he could see people sitting around a table. Discreetly, he peered over the sill to observe everyone inside. Nevan could feel the warmth from inside the house through the glass. It felt so good; he couldn't resist brushing the tips of his fingers across the warm surface.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[TaperedNightjar]

Shikari​

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

Shikari was silent as he listened to them talk among themselves. However, when Mae brought up the monster it made his expression drop. He turned his attention to the food in front of him and stared at it for a long moment. It took a few moments for the conversation to settle down. When it did he glanced up again and saw how upset Shepherd looked. The hawkling remained silent as he ate his food. He was working everything over in his mind. Starting in the forest was their safest bet. Shikari just hoped he could find Vyrik's trail in the snow that had fallen. Still, his mind kept going back to that one word. Monster. His throat felt choked and he took a quick swig of his tea.

"There is no monster," he said quietly after eating a majority of his breakfast. "If that's what the guards told you last night it's, erm..." he paused as he tried to find the right words to express what he was trying to say. "Perception. They were referring to my friend. He killed the guards, but not in..." he gestured to his own body, "a form like this. They attacked us. They attacked me. He killed them to save us. The humans would look at him and think he's a monster, but back home he was a hero, and seen almost like what humans would call a spirit."

Apparently breakfast was the appropriate time for lore-dumping his hosts. Shikari's face paled a bit from embrassement. "I will start looking for him in the forest. I understand if you don't want to come with me after hearing all of this."

Shikari paused and he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickling. He suddenly sat stiff as a board as he listened in on his surroundings. The Hawkling's hand reached into his pocket. When he withdrew his hand there was a dart pinched between his forefinger and thumb. The tuft on the end was dark green, unlike the red ones from the night before.

"We are being watched."

Genii
toriable2016

 

[tityanya]

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Sɪᴍᴏɴ Bᴀʀʟᴏᴡ​

I am here: Servants Quarters
With: Marshall, Aeronwen​

【 In Simon's haste, he hadn't noticed Dr. Lykeios had reached Ms. Aerowen's living quarters first. Simon started as he noticed the Doctor standing there, a mild twitch in his face. Ah, Simon had interrupted something, had he? The door slammed open, the figure of Aeronwen inside startling back at her own offence. Simon's brow furrowed as she addressed the Doctor first, and then him. Ah, this was going to be a competition for her attention, wasn't it? Simon wasn't certain he had the patience to participate.

Dr. Lykeios spoke first, his voice solemn and grave as he told Aeronwen that there had been a mauling. Simon couldn't help but puff up, his mouth opening in protest: Aeronwen wasn't one of Dr. Lykeios' men! She wasn't a soldier to be shown dead bodies, she was a maid of the castle! But her reaction stopped him cold. She didn't seem disgusted, or surprised, just equally solemn and serious. Would she appreciate his assistance, or would it do nothing but cause internal fighting? Aeronwen didn't spare Simon a second glance as she told the Doctor that of course she would help. Simon swallowed his annoyance, although if one looked closely, they would notice a vein throbbing in his forehead. Just because she had a gift didn't mean the military could grab her for any random task they wanted. He shuddered to think about what dark, horrible scene she would divine from the body. But she had already accepted the request. "Right. I think later would be too late," Simon said rather coldly, spinning on his heel and heading back towards the Prince's rooms. He would just have to do the task on his own, and grab another maid to help him with the cleaning. 】

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There's a season, for the kings, to lead​

((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((King Season))​

 

[tityanya]

𝖁𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖆 𝕽𝖔𝖘𝖓𝖔𝖎𝖗𝖊​

I am here: City Streets
With: No one

"What beautiful music the children of the night make" ☽

Veronica's face broke into a huge smile when Wren agreed that he would meet her again. "Tomorrow in the evening is perfect, dear. I shall see you after sunset, then," Veronica said, before taking her leave. It was time to wrap up his wounds, and he had made it abundantly clear he didn't want her to help. Which was probably for the best, honestly. She wasn't sure if she would be able to...restrain herself. The scent of blood was so intoxicating it made her head spin. She needed to find someone to feed on. It was so dangerous now, though. Guards were around every corner. Even finding a willing participant was risky, as they could just be a plant from the castle to catch vampires that needed to feed.

Veronica trudged through the dark streets in the snow, looking out dark alleyways and street corners for any drunkards who would otherwise freeze to death on their way home. No one would notice if they went missing if they were already destined to die, after all.

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((ooc: Veronica is heading around the streets at night if you want Ella to run into her, Talathel!))
((Dress))
((Mediate))​

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[tityanya]

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Ⲋⲧⲉ⳨ⲇⲛ Ⲃⲉⳑⳑⲥⲟⲙⲃ​

I am here: The Castle
With: Countess Eudora

Stefan nodded emphatically as Countess Eudora agreed with him about the servants, saying that what noble wouldn't want a non-gossiping servant. "See, I knew you would understand, my dear! A servant with a quiet mouth is a servant employed for life," Stefan said, pleased that she at least understood his argument, although agreement wasn't necessarily on the table. His mouth puckered as though he had sucked on a sour lemon when she said the Queen had mistaken his "noble Sentiment for the usual short-sighted impertinence" that her words implied he usually had. "I only every speak with noble sentiment," he huffed dramatically.

Despite his best efforts, his self-dig at being impulsive didn't seem to amuse the Countess. Her response was stiff and cold, rather than the usual rapport. "Ah, but if I was to disappear, think of all the young lords and ladies whose hearts would be absolutely crushed into the dust without my radiance! I know you would never admit it, but things would be awfully dull without me around, don't you think?" Stefan mused. His fake treachery talk managed to break the cold, icy wall she had around her, and Stefan's face broke into a sly smile as she saw the glittering in her amused eyes. She pretended to gasp in shock, warning him about how he wouldn't want to be in the custody of the castle guards. He dramatically swooned, placing his hand on his forehead and reeling backwards. "You wound me! My co-conspirator with the knife to my back! The palace guards would eat my beautiful face alive!" he dramatized. Although, it really would be a spot of bother if he was actually arrested. But he was on good behavior, now! At least until he got out of the castle, at least.

The reached the exit of the castle, and Countess Eudora thanked him for finding a servant, saying how they always seemed to disappear when you needed them. "They can smell it in the air. 'Oh no, someone needs me! It'll distract me from my very important work of shining spoons all day and pretending to be busy! I must hide, quickly!'" he said in an exaggerated feminine voice. He might have been speaking from experience for when he was desperately looking for a servant in his own household to help him with a task he had long since forgotten, and found the man shining spoons with such attention and rigor that it unsettled him. Like nothing in the world existed but the spoons. Stefan often wondered if he had been on some sort of performance drug to make work easier. Well, it had certainly made him focus on every nook and cranny of those spoons. Stefan had never seen them so shiny before or since.

Stefan mentioned the stuffiness of the castle, and the Countess agreed with him, looking down at the carpets. They were some light purple color that just begged to be stained from the various grime that visitors would drag in on their boots from the snow. It was impressive, really, how they had managed to stay so clean so far. Perhaps the castle servants also had the same drug his servant had been on. "Us commonfolk really can't even hope to divine the thoughts of those so high above us," Stefan said with mock sincerity. "We can really only assume that this garish purple was chosen to drive visitors away, instead of make them feel welcome," ​

((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((I don't Care))​

Talk Think

 

[toriable2016]

Princess Inara

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[youtube]

Taylor Swift

Anti-Hero

Princess Visconti was in bright spirits as she walked around the town, handing out food baskets to those in need. She had managed to shake off the handmaids and guards, so she was cloaked and dressed modestly in cotton skirts to avoid attracting too much attention. Often, being heavily guarded dissuaded the common folk from coming close to her, so it was just more practical for her to wander on her own. She made a note to visit all her usual stops, but also some new ones along the way.

Much to her dismay, there seemed to be many more people begging in the streets than in previous months. The princess stared down disappointingly into her empty basket meant to hold food for at least fifteen people. At the time, she had been handing out bread to some orphans, but she had missed one of the frail girls. Inara patted the small girl on the head in assurance and promised to come back with more bread.

Princess Inara rushed through the narrow alleyways until the royal guards came into view. As she hurried closer, she observed one of her guards thrown from his horse. Her maids rushed her to keep a safe distance between the princess and the culminating chaos, but Inara wanted none of it. Especially after watching one of her guards patronizing a gentleman trying to help, she pushed through the crowd to stand before her guard. " I beg your pardon, sir!" she fumed. " I don't remember coming here so you can harass the city folk! You are delaying my efforts and wasting my time with your frivolity."

Many of the maids and other guards winced and retreated further away. The princess' fury was a thunderstorm in springtime, beautiful but unpredictably destructive. Like summer leaves infiltrated by sunlight, she looked at the stranger and placed a protective hand on the horse. " I thank you on my company's behalf. You seem to have a way with horses."

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[TaperedNightjar]

Vyrik​

• Location: Streets of Florien.
• With: Princess Inara and castle staff.
• Wearing: A worn coat, sandy colored cloak, leather boots, brown woolen shirt and brown pants.
• General status: Injured, ill, malnourished, generally unwell.

Vyrik's hand remained firmly wrapped around the reins of the chestnut, which caused the guard's mouth to twist into a scowl. The man started to close the gap between them but stopped short when the angry voice of the Princess shot through the air. The guard jumped back as though he had been bit by a hot stove. Before the man could speak up in defense of himself the Princess had already turned her attention to the homeless looking man standing beside the horse.

Vyrik looked at Princess Inari with a neutral expression showing on his face. He glanced to the guard briefly and then to the horse. The large animal was still on edge, no thanks to the seething guard who stood next to them. Vyrik reached up and laid a thin hands on his velvety nose.

By this point in time the guard had enough of this nonsense. "Your Highness, this man has placed his hands on castle property. He interfered with my duties." Clearly this guard did not know his place, or perhaps he was just a complete idiot.

"Your Highness..." Vyrik repeated the Guard's words in his head. Brown eyes snapped to Princess Inari and for the briefest of moments the Moonwing had the look of a deer who had crossed paths with a hunter. The look of fear was fleeting however, and was soon covered by a neutral expression once again.

"And you! Our Princess was speaking to you, who are you to ignore her!?" What an angry guard this man was.

Vyrik looked perplexed as he eyed him. "This could be fun," the Moonwing thought to himself, and with that he turned his back to the other man so that he could fully address the Princess while simultaneously pissing the guard off. "Your Highness," he began in an accent so thick it would likely be difficult to understand if she didn't listen carefully. "I have much experience with horses. We have many where I come from." Vyrik flashed her one of his charming smiles before looking to the horse again and rubbing it's nose some more. "This one is quite fine. Are all castle horses like this?"

toriable2016

 

[Rosacea]

Ⲋⲧⲉ⳨ⲇⲛ Ⲃⲉⳑⳑⲥⲟⲙⲃ​

I am here: The Castle
With: Countess Eudora

Stefan nodded emphatically as Countess Eudora agreed with him about the servants, saying that what noble wouldn't want a non-gossiping servant. "See, I knew you would understand, my dear! A servant with a quiet mouth is a servant employed for life," Stefan said, pleased that she at least understood his argument, although agreement wasn't necessarily on the table. His mouth puckered as though he had sucked on a sour lemon when she said the Queen had mistaken his "noble Sentiment for the usual short-sighted impertinence" that her words implied he usually had. "I only every speak with noble sentiment," he huffed dramatically.

Despite his best efforts, his self-dig at being impulsive didn't seem to amuse the Countess. Her response was stiff and cold, rather than the usual rapport. "Ah, but if I was to disappear, think of all the young lords and ladies whose hearts would be absolutely crushed into the dust without my radiance! I know you would never admit it, but things would be awfully dull without me around, don't you think?" Stefan mused. His fake treachery talk managed to break the cold, icy wall she had around her, and Stefan's face broke into a sly smile as she saw the glittering in her amused eyes. She pretended to gasp in shock, warning him about how he wouldn't want to be in the custody of the castle guards. He dramatically swooned, placing his hand on his forehead and reeling backwards. "You wound me! My co-conspirator with the knife to my back! The palace guards would eat my beautiful face alive!" he dramatized. Although, it really would be a spot of bother if he was actually arrested. But he was on good behavior, now! At least until he got out of the castle, at least.

The reached the exit of the castle, and Countess Eudora thanked him for finding a servant, saying how they always seemed to disappear when you needed them. "They can smell it in the air. 'Oh no, someone needs me! It'll distract me from my very important work of shining spoons all day and pretending to be busy! I must hide, quickly!'" he said in an exaggerated feminine voice. He might have been speaking from experience for when he was desperately looking for a servant in his own household to help him with a task he had long since forgotten, and found the man shining spoons with such attention and rigor that it unsettled him. Like nothing in the world existed but the spoons. Stefan often wondered if he had been on some sort of performance drug to make work easier. Well, it had certainly made him focus on every nook and cranny of those spoons. Stefan had never seen them so shiny before or since.

Stefan mentioned the stuffiness of the castle, and the Countess agreed with him, looking down at the carpets. They were some light purple color that just begged to be stained from the various grime that visitors would drag in on their boots from the snow. It was impressive, really, how they had managed to stay so clean so far. Perhaps the castle servants also had the same drug his servant had been on. "Us commonfolk really can't even hope to divine the thoughts of those so high above us," Stefan said with mock sincerity. "We can really only assume that this garish purple was chosen to drive visitors away, instead of make them feel welcome," ​

((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((I don't Care))​

Talk Think

((Ooc: sorry if this is a formatted mess, I’m writing this on my phone and without any real connection. Stuck in the mountains, please forgive the terrible quality lol)​

Eudora Withersbury​

The countess cleared her throat at Stefans pouty comment, rather obviously trying to stifle a laugh.
It was neither proper nor dignified to break character, but seeing Lord Bellcombs expression made it almost impossible to keep with the serious absurdity of their conversation. Perhaps noticing that he had struck a nerve with his earlier comment, the foolish lord had only ramped up his antics. At least it was a welcome difference from the dull saloon earlier.

„It would be a real tragedy if you would cease life at court, Lord Bellcomb. The young lords and ladies would actually get some work done instead of being wrapped up in your romantic…conquests“ Eudora replied, only half in jest. Stefan was known as a scandalous player, having broken the hearts of at least three quarters of Maple Hill. Only the gods knew what made the, in her opinion, rather bizarrely dressed scholar such a sought after suitor.
She clapped sarcastically at his artistic swoon, biting back the nasty mention that a few bites out of Stefans face wouldn’t exactly make an aesthetic difference. There was a thin line between wit and vulgarity. Besides, his lordship was quite vain. She wasn’t exactly looking for an invitation to duel.
„Your real talent has always been acting, Lord Bellcomb. Such a shame you chose to waste away in taverns instead of conquering the stage“

They had been waiting at the castles exit for more than twenty minutes already and Eudora was growing rather impatient. She raised an eyebrow as Stefan somehow managed to lower the intellectual standard of their conversation even further, apparently imitating a spoon obsessed servant. As entertaining as his company could be, Eudora was on a rather tight schedule.
After searching through several of her coat pockets, Eudora triumphantly nestled her watch out of a crumpled handkerchief, carefully opening the fragile cover of the hand-crafted device.

It was an old clock, having been gifted to her great-grandfather by an influential goldsmith to absolve him of his gambling debt. Intricately decorated, with complicated patterns of swirls and small golden gemstones, it had been one of her favourite heirlooms since she was a little girl. The goldsmith was exiled from Mustique shortly after finishing her ancestors commission. Only two small initials, politely hidden under the clocks domed dial, posed a fading reminder of his once powerful name.

But no matter how pretty it’s messenger, time was a sour reminder.
She closed the clock with an annoyed sigh, being forced to reconsider her plans for the day. How in the world was it already so late? Eudora could forget about the reports piling up on her desk. By the time she would be home and out of her coat, it was already time to get back to the castle! She needed to tutor the princess after all.

„I would really appreciate it if the servants spend less time keeping the carpets immaculate and more on my carriage“ she huffed, nervous at the prospect of having to get some of her teaching utensils and readying herself for that blasted lesson on time. Not that she could decline to teach the princess of Mirim, but she would appreciate the king not being quite so spontaneous about it.

 

[tityanya]

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T/W really minor self-harm

𝐸𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾

I am here: Stables
With: Oksana and Hector​

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

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Emory nodded in response when Hector told him that it hadn't quite taken an entire cow to make the saddle for the giant horse. Emory stared in fascination at the horse, rubbing its neck as Darius grabbed a comb to begin currying the horse. Princess Oksana scurried behind Darius, and Emory didn't quite notice her due to the man's giant size. He politely missed the conversation between the Princess and her bodyguard, instead moving further down the stable towards where Oak was getting ready. "Ah, just a few more minutes, Your Highness!" the stablehand blubbered. "Take your time," Emory answered, patting Oak's side. He had come as a pair with Acacia, Alicia's horse. A deep brown and bright orange horse. Alicia had known the proper color names for them, but Emory didn't quite care. The horses were brown and orange. Alicia had come up with the idea to name them after types of trees.

Princess Oksana's voice drew Emory away from Oak. He looked over into the stall she was looking at. Acacia. Emory's face, for a moment, turned into a wretched frown at her question of taking her. He turned his face so the Princess couldn't see his grief. She didn't know. It wasn't her fault.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! It's a habit. She always demands to be saddled before Oak," One of the stablehands blurted out. Emory nodded, still facing away from everyone. He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself. "I'm sorry, Princess Oksana, but I can't let you take that horse. She's my wife's. It just...doesn't feel right," Emory said, his voice thick and choked with emotion. "You can take Oak. He's a gentle boy, easy to ride. I'll take Acacia." Emory said, still refusing to make eye contact. If he did, he felt like he would just...explode. And that wasn't what he wanted. He was supposed to be getting out of the castle, enjoying his day. "Please excuse me for a moment," Emory said, pushing his way through the other exit towards the stable yard. He breathed in the crisp air, feeling the sting of cold on his cheeks and in his lungs. He focused on that feeling, wanting to feel that above all else. When it wasn't quite enough, he took the glove off his hand and shoved it into the snow. He held it there until he couldn't anymore, pulling his red hand away from the snow with a short groan of pain. That was better. Focus on that.

He re-gloved his hand to hide the redness, and walked back into the stable where Oak and Acacia were saddled and ready to go. "I'm sorry about that, Princess Oksana, Darius. Sometimes my emotions...get the better of me. Are we ready to go?" Emory asked. He didn't feel the need to explain why his emotions had gotten to him--it was well known that he was a grieving widower and father. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out the idea of another woman riding his wife's horse just...didn't sit well with him.

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

 

[toriable2016]

Princess Inara

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Taylor Swift

Anti-Hero

After a brief, awkward exchange of glances with the stranger, Princess Inara turned her attention toward the guard. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, surprised the guard even had the gall to respond. Inara kept her eye on the stranger, not fulling trusting him but also refusing to acknowledge the guard's insolence. With daggers in her eyes, she called out for one of her handmaids, "Sasha."

A sheepish girl stepped forward with her head bowed in subservience. "Yes, your Highness," she squeaked. The princess responded curtly, "Find the commanding officer on duty and escort our friend, please. Inform him of his subordinate's defiance." The rest of the company was dead quiet, so the handmaiden's voice echoed eerily. "Yes. Of course, Your Highness. Right away." The handmaiden stepped hesitantly toward the guard and tried to usher him with her eyes. Pleadingly, the maid whispered, "Sir, you should come with me. We shouldn't cause any more trouble."

Hoping the guard would not persist further, Princess Inara took note of the young man's accent. Interesting, she thought passively. Inara couldn't recall hearing a similar accent despite meeting people from all over the realm. Ah, but where were her manners? Watchful eyes were on her, and the situation was inappropriate for her status. " I beg your pardon, Sir." she replied with a curtsey. As a foreigner, she assumed, her visitor was not well versed in the customs of their culture. " As a woman of marriageable age, it's inappropriate for me to speak with you without us first introducing myself—Crown Princess Inara, at your service."

With the introduction out of the way, she turned her attention to the horse's mane, running her fingers through it. "As royalty, yes. We have access to fine horses like this. However, most of our horses come from the neighboring kingdom, Eastwind. Horses of the Eastwind Plains are explicitly bred for their endurance and strength. They're stunning, aren't they, Mr-? "

She blushed briefly, realizing she hadn't yet asked the stranger's name.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[TaperedNightjar]

Vyrik​

• Location: Streets of Florien.
• With: Princess Inara and castle staff.
• Wearing: A worn coat, sandy colored cloak, leather boots, brown woolen shirt and brown pants.
• General status: Injured, ill, malnourished, generally unwell.

The guard didn’t have the ability to plead his case with the Princess and he knew it. She was done with the conversation, which meant he was as well. He seemed to deflate a bit before the frustration brewed once more, causing his chest to puff a bit. He side-eyed Vyrik as he was escorted away by Sasha. The guard was young, and new. His patience was thin and like a good handful of other city guards he was still learning his place. Even so, one would think refraining from back-talking royalty would be common sense. In which case the guard clearly had a serious lack of it.

Vyrik still had his back turned to the guard, so he was unaware of the scathing glance that was shot in his direction. However, he could feel the tension in the air. What an angry young man that guard was. Although to be fair, he himself was an angry man as well so he couldn’t say much there.

As the guard was escorted away Princess Inara went on to explain some customs to Vyrik. It was obvious that he was a foreigner and he knew it. He thought it very kind of the Princess to explain things to him, instead of getting upset that he was unaware of how things worked. That was the difference between someone who cared somewhere in their heart versus a person who simply waived their status above everyone’s heads. Even so, he could not hide his surprise when she introduced herself as the Crown Princess.

Vyrik stood frozen for a moment. The urge to retreat filled him as his heart raced. “No, calm down. This could work in my favor. I just need to maintain my cover.”

Vyrik’s hand raised and his fingers fanned out a bit. As soon as they did he curled them into a fist and lowered his hand again with a look of embarrassment on his face. Princesses don’t shake hands. He did not have any personal experience with human royalty but he did have a book in his pack that featured some detail on the subject. The Princess curtsies and the man bows.

Inara went on the explain about the horses and then asked his own name. Vyrik did not miss the flushed look on her face. The bird ducked his head and shoulders down a bit. He wasn’t sure how dramatic he had to be, so he kept it simple. The woman knew he was a foreigner, so there was a chance she would afford him some understanding.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness Princess Inara of Mirim. I am Wren Virtanen. I come from a secluded wilderness village in Ewrelia,” his words were smooth. Vyrik had rehearsed for this. So had Shikari. He wondered how his friend was holding up. Had Shikari stuck to their plans? What name was he using? What story?

No, now was not the time to be thinking about him. Vyrik could not afford to become distracted. Brown eyes looked up at the tall red horse as he shook the questions from his mind. “They are certainly stunning animals. I have heard great things of Eastwind’s horses.” He adjusted his grip on the reins and glanced at the folks standing around them, wondering who he should hand the horse off to.

“I don’t wish to be in your way, Your Highness,” he said as he looked at Princess Inara again. “I simply wished to help the young man when he fell. His horse seems spooked today.” Vyrik knew it was because the animal was young and the guard was not experienced enough to handle it. He knew better than to tell the princess that her staff were ill-equipped right to her face. The Moonwing wasn’t a fool.

As he spoke, the chestnut grabbed a tuft of Vyrik’s hair in its lips and began nibbling it. The man winced, but not for the reason most would assume. Of course the horse had found what bit of wild hair was sticking out from the hood of his cloak. Over the years he had discovered that his hair was very tempting to horses. It was so wild and unkempt which made it fun to play with! Going hoodless or scarf-less in front of them was like waving a carrot in front of their noses. A smile came to his face as he gently brushed the young gelding’s face away.

toriable2016

 

[Genii]

Shepherd
Location: Sheep farm
With: Shikari, Oan & Mae, Connie.

Oan and Mae shared concerned glances as Shikari filled them in on a few things. Helping a lost otherfolk boy was one thing, but getting mixed up with wanted criminals was way out of their comfort zone, no matter the circumstances.

“The guard didn’t mention any deaths.” Oan said, mostly to put his wife at ease. “-but if that’s true, the forest’ll be swarming with guards this morning.”

“In that case, I don’t want any of you going there.” Mae said, her expression full of worry.

“But what about Shikari’s friend?” Shepherd said.

“I doubt he’ll still be in the fore-“ Oan was interrupted by Connie barking, after she’d picked up on Shikari’s unease.

“We are?” Shepherd jumped out of his seat and went to grab a woolly hat. His father went to look out of the kitchen window, gesturing for everyone to stay-put and telling Connie to shush.

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

.

Hector Darius
Location: Stables
With: Oksana & Emory
​

Hector watched Emory leave and sighed softly before looking at Oksana. She would be feeling guilty, he was sure of it, and wanted to nip it in the bud, "You didn't know that mare was his wife's, Your Highness." he said softly, "How could you have?"

He couldn't possibly imagine how Prince Emory felt. Hector had seen friends die in battle against a living foe, or the weather, sure, but he'd never been close enough to someone to feel their loss as acutely as the Prince must miss his wife. The closest he could get to it was to think of how it would feel if he lost his twin sister, Octavia. You may as well just dig his heart out and impale it on a pike laced with acid.

Bear shifted and side butted Hector, shaking him out of his thoughts. "Sorry buddy." he mumbled. "Got a little lost in thought."

He reached out to give Oksana's arm a gentle squeeze and shot her an encouraging smile as he continued to brush his horse. Bear was a great horse, but definitely spoiled and accustomed to a certain level of pampering of which Hector was a definite enabler. He put the blanket on, followed by the saddle, catching a glimpse of the stablehand, still looking guilty.

"Give yourself a break, kid." He grunted. "The alternative would have been not getting Acacia ready first, and Acacia doing whatever Acacia does when she doesn't get her way, right? Listen, why don't you get Bear into his bridle while I finish with the saddle." He glanced at the boy again scrutinizingly and kicked a stool toward him. "You might need this."

The boy jumped when Hector spoke, looking at Bear longingly, but then giving Hector a look that said he wasn't so sure. Hector rolled his eyes, "I don't bite, boy, and neither does Bear, unless you're attacking. You're not, right? Right."

The boy shook his head and scurried forward, eagerly grabbing the bridle and jumping onto the stool. "No, sir. Thank you, sir. He's a beautiful horse, sir. I've never seen one this big."

Hector tested the tightness of the saddle strap, grimacing at being called "sir" three times in the same breath. "Hector is fine, kid. My rank is..." He waved his hand dismissively..."Anyway, yeah he is beautiful and, yeah, you probably haven't seen one this big. He was bred for me. Done?" He inspected the boy's work and nodded. "Good."

Prince Emory came back in, apologizing and asking if they were ready to go. "It's fine, Prince Emory, and understandable." He led Bear out of the stall and mounted, urging Bear to take a few steps before pulling him to a stop and dismounting to tighten the saddle strap. "Yep. Ready. Let's go eat."

He mounted Bear and waited for the Prince and Princess to do the same.

 

[tityanya]

Ⲋⲧⲉ⳨ⲇⲛ Ⲃⲉⳑⳑⲥⲟⲙⲃ​

I am here: the Castle
With: Eudora

Stefan's eyes glittered as Countess Withersbury coughed, an obvious sign that she was trying to stifle a laugh. Would he be able to make her break her composure today? She was always so serious and righteous, so hard to crack that icy facade. But he was coming close. He laughed, a full on belly laugh, when the Countess said that his absence at court would result in lords and ladies getting some work done. He was well aware of who he was, and what he did. Mentioning it wasn't an insult to him, it only meant that he was going about his way in life correctly. "Oh, I'm sure that would last well for a month or so. And then someone even worse would slither into my place, wreaking havoc on the delicate ecosystem," Stefan mused. It was a well documented phenomenon in nature--remove one predator, and a predator that that predator was keeping away would come in and destroy everything.

After his swoon, the Countess told Stefan that he real talent had always been acting, and it was a shame he was wasting his time away in taverns. He cupped his chin with his hand, appearing deep in thought. "You think so? Maybe I can form a play from all my tavern buddies. Conquer the tavern stage, merge my two strong suits together," he mused, faux serious. He was sure that the Countess was joking about his theatrical ability, but at one time it had been something he was interested in. His father had told him that no son of his would become an actor. C'est la vie.

The countess wasn't impressed by his impression of the spoon-obsessed servant, instead looking at her watch. Ah, ever a busy woman, that countess. Stefan's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the pocket watch, as they always were whenever she displayed it. It was a gorgeous work of art, complicated swirled patterns and golden gems. Stefan was always mesmerized by the craftmanship, finding new patterns in the swirls every time he saw it. She snapped close the pocketwatch, huffing about how the servants were taking too long with her carriage. He could tell her that different servants were in charge of those tasks, but it was a low-hanging fruit. She knew that, she was just complaining. Stefan wondered what it was like to be so driven by time--his days were waves, riding with the flow. He would work whenever he woke up, and would sleep whenever he was tired. If someone wanted to keep a timeframe with him, they would have to enforce it harshly.

Before Stefan could respond, a servant came through the front door. "Countess Withersbury. Lord Bellcomb. Your transportation is ready." Stefan glanced at the countess, an amused smirk on his face. "Well, would you look at that? They heard you speaking and realized they better move quickly,"​

((ooc: Y'all ever see that animated film Rango? That's where I learned about the concept of a predator keeping another predator away lmao))
((outfit))
((I don't Care))​

Talk Think

 

[Gazimon X]

Marshall Lykeios
Castle Grounds - Gifted Wing > Medical Wing | Langston | Weary​

If it were up to Marshall, Ms Aerowen would be in the corps’ investigative division, perhaps given training as a detective. But because of her feminine sensibilities he had been reluctant to call upon her… until now. Doubly so because her gift could be just as revealing if it were turned upon the wrong items.

Simon’s animosity took the doctor by surprise, but since the man hadn’t elaborated on what he meant by ‘too late’ Lykeios presumed that it wasn’t an emergency of equal importance. The discomfort rolled off the doctor like water on a duck, and he dismissed it quickly as his mind surged ahead to the task at hand.

He took a half-step backwards, motioning for the lady to walk at his side. She might be part of the housekeeping staff, but since he was asking her for a favour — a favour that might have far-reaching and debilitating consequences if her mental resilience could not cope with the truth of events — it was only natural that she was treated as his equal. Subconsciously he had already adjusted his stride, shortening it so that it would match her comfort. Besides, he preferred to confer the information with some greater privacy before they reached the more crowded corridors of the army’s castle wing.

“The attack occurred last night, in Garwood forest. Two guards attached to a patrol squad beyond the wall were relieved from their post and sent back as one of them was feeling unwell. They never made it back. When Captain Jokela and I arrived at the scene, it was clear that it was a violent mauling — broken branches, claw marks, the pattern of blood splatters, and it had the strength to carry one of them up into a tree. The creature is still alive and dangerously close to the wall. We need to eliminate it or drive it away, or there will be a slaughter in the farmlands if it gets past the wall.”

Marshall paused outside the door of a room and looked at her, his icy blue eyes haloed with dark bruising from lack of sleep. “I know what I ask of you may be more than you can bear. Given what I have told you, are you still willing to do this? These are their final moments that you might witness, and they might be traumatic.”

“If you still wish to do so, would you like me in the room with you?” Marshall did not voice the alternative, which was for him to wait outside. He would rather be with her, in case she collapsed from shock and suffered a concussion.

@Pipsqueak

 

[Rosacea]

Ⲋⲧⲉ⳨ⲇⲛ Ⲃⲉⳑⳑⲥⲟⲙⲃ​

I am here: the Castle
With: Eudora

Stefan's eyes glittered as Countess Withersbury coughed, an obvious sign that she was trying to stifle a laugh. Would he be able to make her break her composure today? She was always so serious and righteous, so hard to crack that icy facade. But he was coming close. He laughed, a full on belly laugh, when the Countess said that his absence at court would result in lords and ladies getting some work done. He was well aware of who he was, and what he did. Mentioning it wasn't an insult to him, it only meant that he was going about his way in life correctly. "Oh, I'm sure that would last well for a month or so. And then someone even worse would slither into my place, wreaking havoc on the delicate ecosystem," Stefan mused. It was a well documented phenomenon in nature--remove one predator, and a predator that that predator was keeping away would come in and destroy everything.

After his swoon, the Countess told Stefan that he real talent had always been acting, and it was a shame he was wasting his time away in taverns. He cupped his chin with his hand, appearing deep in thought. "You think so? Maybe I can form a play from all my tavern buddies. Conquer the tavern stage, merge my two strong suits together," he mused, faux serious. He was sure that the Countess was joking about his theatrical ability, but at one time it had been something he was interested in. His father had told him that no son of his would become an actor. C'est la vie.

The countess wasn't impressed by his impression of the spoon-obsessed servant, instead looking at her watch. Ah, ever a busy woman, that countess. Stefan's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the pocket watch, as they always were whenever she displayed it. It was a gorgeous work of art, complicated swirled patterns and golden gems. Stefan was always mesmerized by the craftmanship, finding new patterns in the swirls every time he saw it. She snapped close the pocketwatch, huffing about how the servants were taking too long with her carriage. He could tell her that different servants were in charge of those tasks, but it was a low-hanging fruit. She knew that, she was just complaining. Stefan wondered what it was like to be so driven by time--his days were waves, riding with the flow. He would work whenever he woke up, and would sleep whenever he was tired. If someone wanted to keep a timeframe with him, they would have to enforce it harshly.

Before Stefan could respond, a servant came through the front door. "Countess Withersbury. Lord Bellcomb. Your transportation is ready." Stefan glanced at the countess, an amused smirk on his face. "Well, would you look at that? They heard you speaking and realized they better move quickly,"​

((ooc: Y'all ever see that animated film Rango? That's where I learned about the concept of a predator keeping another predator away lmao))
((outfit))
((I don't Care))​

Talk Think

Eudora Withersbury​

I am here: Castle
With: Stefan

“Ah yes, the delicate fauna of hedonism and lacklustre propriety couldn’t possibly stomach such upset.” She replied to Stefan’s philosophical musings on the workings of court drama. “I suppose we will have to content us with you then, Lord Bellcomb.” Eudora sighed; her voice tinged with faux regret at such a terrible prospect.

She nodded seriously at his proposition of tavern-acting, bemused at the thought of Stefan and his rowdy drinking mates stumbling on the stages of grand city theatres. Eudora might even pay to see that. “I would warmly support you in this artistic endeavour, Lord Bellcomb. And if only to see Lady Fitherwells expression of horror-struck surprise”. Lady Fitherwells was a self-proclaimed art-critic and dedicated author to the culture-page of the East End Post. Eudora couldn’t stand the woman. Her Husband was an impolite oaf, and her Ladyship essentially adopted every one of his opinions with fervour. The problem was that she couldn’t defend any of them and usually left huffily in a cloud of lily perfume when questioned. A few days later, right when one had forgotten the whole unsavoury affair, she would write a scathing article about whoever wronged her. Dreadful. What use was a controlled press if the King let people of her kind write rubbish anyway?

Eudora strained her eyes to see any trace of her carriage outside. Shuddering slightly, the countess adjusted her cashmere scarf, a present from Bertie. Heating was expensive and the palace had not gone through the trouble of keeping the fireplaces going in less important rooms. It was economical, which she appreciated, but sadly made the stone castle rather chilly.

While they were waiting for a chance to escape, the snowfall outside had increased substantially, causing the arched windows of the hall to fog in a bright flurry. Eudora found herself momentarily awed at the view outside, surprised by the contrast of mood mere hours after she had entered the castle. The fragile snowfall of the morning had been replaced by thick, visibly heavy snowflakes slowly pulled to the ground in gusts of sharp northern wind. Mirim was a country of extremes. The summers were hot and sunny, resembling Mustique in all but the unbearable tropical humidity she despised. The winters could be unforgivingly cold, and the countess shuddered to think of the soup kitchens she would have to fund. Combined with heating costs and the current destabilisation of export-trade caused by Mirims aggressive Otherfolk policy, a hard winter may pose a major headache to profits this year. Still, the weather was beautiful. Eudora remembered the first time she had seen snow, right after arriving in Mirim by train. The debutante season in winter was magical, with furs, freedom and mulled wine framing fond memories of her first real winter in the country that would later become her home.

Sadly, she would never get used to the cold. Her thoughts were interrupted by a red haired footman finally announcing the readiness of her transportation. “Thank god, I was beginning to think my Ladies maid had run off with one of the stableboys. If you’d excuse me, Lord Bellcomb, I am in a bit of a hurry. I can’t say I am not scandalised by your preposterous behaviour this morning. Do try and stay out of trouble-" She stopped momentarily, as if she wondered if something else ought to be mentioned. Or someone else. No, It wasnt her place. "...for the sake of your aristocratic title?” Eudora remarked curtly and smiled slightly at Stefan’s comment, fondly patting his arm in the way middle aged ladies just seem to do and waltzing off to her carriage. No doubt stopping to take down the palace staff a peg or two. They deserved it this time!

((ooc: Eudora and me have a way warmer attitude towards Stefan than I planned. Hes just too funny : D))
​

 

[toriable2016]

Princess Inara

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[youtube]

Taylor Swift

Anti-Hero

The Princess glanced briefly into her peripherals to make sure her orders were followed appropriately and sighed a small sign of relief. The remaining guards and staff stood dumbfounded, trying to figure out how to proceed. Inara merely smiled and nodded as if to send them about their business. The guards silently returned to their duties, and the maids began to scatter amongst the streets to continue handing out food.

As Inara and the man exchanged greetings, she found herself smiling modestly. The greeting was awkward, but she had no right to chastise. It turned out her assumptions were correct. The gentleman appeared to be new to town. She nodded approvingly, "Welcome, Mr. Virtanen. I hope you have found yourself welcomed in our kingdom. "

Inara clasped her hands behind her back and rocked apprehensively on her heels. " No need to apologize. You did nothing wrong, and I appreciate your understanding. The responsibility of holding the staff accountable is my own. Besides-" She grinned mischievously, " You seemed to know what you were doing."

As the horse pulled Mr. Virtanen's hair into its mouth, Inara, alarmed, attempted to assist him. However, he didn't seem to mind the horse. Inara giggled like the soft tinkling of bells and patted the horse's muzzle affectionately.

"Well then, Mr. Virtanen. I'm afraid I must depart soon. " The Princess motioned to one of the nearby staff to grab an extra basket and gingerly handed it out to Mr. Virtanen. "I have lessons in the castle soon, but I'm here around this time of the week to hand out supplies to the townsfolk. I pray this small token of my gratitude will be helpful in your transition to Mirim. " As she spoke, a nearby guard came up to retrieve the horse and usher Inara to be on her way.

" Please don't hesitate to ask if you need anything, Mr. Virtanen. " After curtseying in respect, Inara allowed herself to be whisked away by the staff.

((ooc: I apologize for the lack of editing (weirdness) of this post. I've been having to keep a close eye on my cat.))

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[tityanya]

.

Ⲋⲧⲉ⳨ⲇⲛ Ⲃⲉⳑⳑⲥⲟⲙⲃ​

I am here:
With:

Stefan nodded sagely as the Countess said that "fauna of hedonism" wouldn't be able to "stomach such an upset." It took a lot of self control on his part not to burst into laughter, honestly, although a smile threatened at the corner of his mouth. Countess Withersbury had such a scathing view of the nobility, one that Stefan wouldn't say was...entirely incorrect. He was definitely full of hedonism and lackluster propriety. What else was a third son to do? He wasn't even the spare, just an additional child expected to pull...some kind of weight. "It's hard to be the protector of the ecosystem, of course, but someone must do it," he said, his voice overcome with the emotion of his faux sacrifice. At the very least, if girls were flirting with him instead of the other men at parties, they wouldn't be prematurely losing their virtue.

The subject changed to Stefan's future as an actor, and the Countess said that she would support such endeavors, especially to see the look on the face of Lady Fitherwells. Stefan properly laughed at this, a deep gut laugh. He had been the subject of one of Lady Fitherwells' little articles once. He had mopped the floor with her idiot of a husband, proving him completely wrong on some point Stefan had long since forgotten, while horribly drunk. It was such a resounding defeat for the Lord Fitherwells, incredibly embarrassing to witness for those who were sympathetic towards him. A drunk man coming in and completely ripping apart whatever argument he had been making. Those who didn't like the Fitherwells were laughing behind their fans. A few days later, she had written her little slander piece about how drunks should stay out of conversations they had no business being in in the first place. From Stefan's point of view, her husband was the one having the conversation he had no business being in. "I am going to hold you to that, my dear countess. One day I'll come knocking on your door with a script in my hands and a theater picked out!" It was more an empty joke, if anything. While he would love to put on a play that would leave the Fitherwells horror-struck, he knew the possibility of such was 0% so long as his father was still alive. The man was as healthy as a horse, so this potential play wouldn't happen until Stefan had gone grey himself.

The pair stood in silence for a moment, Countess Withersbury staring outside at the snow. It was quite beautiful, the freshly fallen white blanket. It had seemed to have gotten heavier since Stefan had left, which caused him to frown. He hadn't bothered with getting a carriage ready, as impulsive as his desire to come to the castle was. He was going to have to ride in the snow. He sighed, mostly to himself. His verbal banter with the Countess had considerably raised his mood, and now he was just...annoyed with himself that he had come here. He had gotten threatened by the Queen, argued with a foreign princess, and hadn't even gotten to see Prince Emory. And now, he had to ride home in the snow with nothing to show for it.

The Countess' carriage arrived, alongside Stefan's poor, cold little horse. Stefan snickered as the Countess said she had been afraid the maid had run off with one of the stableboys. "They have a bad habit of doing that, do they not? Thinking that their love will support them better than a well-paying job," he commented, buttoning up his jacket tight in preparation for the ride home. Or to the bar. He'd decide on his way out of the castle. The Countess paused in her words for a second, leaving Stefan to wonder what she was going to say before "his aristocratic title." He could guess. For Alicia's sake. Countess Withersbury had wisely chosen not to mention his sister, but the implication of her original thought lay in the air between them. She...wasn't wrong. And Stefan couldn't get mad, as he she hadn't directly mentioned her. "I always strive to be someone my family can be proud of," he said loftily, with a little laugh at the end. They were like, half proud of him. But Alicia had always been proud of him. God, the sting of her death was...unbearable. Maybe a trip to the bar was what he needed.

Stefan accompanied the Countess to her carriage, being the proper gentleman as she stepped inside. He waited for her to sit, and the door to be closed, before he spoke again. "I hope you have a safe trip home, Eudora. Get your work done! I'll see you at the next unfortunate circumstance!" He raced off at that, towards his own horse. Using her first name with no titles was one last little attempt to get under her skin before they parted ways. It implied a familiarity that Stefan wasn't sure the Countess thought they had. But well, Stefan always enjoyed speaking with her. He swung himself up onto his horse, and began to head towards the gates. He wanted to get to whatever location he decided on, and fast.​

((ooc: Sorry for the long wait, time doesn't exist to me ))
((outfit))
((I don't Care))​

Talk Think

 

[Gremewlyn]

Robin Lynwood

I am here: Streets of Florien
I am with: Some guy
Outfit


As she did every morning, the young fortune teller took a peek into her own immediate future. After a bit of shuffling, Robin had today’s card. Judgment, reversed, stared back at her, as it did every morning. After pulling the card for real one morning and being severely confused, Robin had decided to invest in a new deck, with drawings in a style differed from the deck she’d received from Fran years ago. Just in case. Doing her best not to think about what her subconscious was trying to tell her, Robin closed her eyes a moment, took a breath, and then reopened them. Ah, the nine of wands. “I suppose I’ll be staying out late tonight. . . .” Hopefully the snow would let up. Robin was tempted to return to bed, and rest up a bit for the night ahead, but some coffee later this afternoon sounded like a better idea. She didn’t have much planned for the day, and enjoying the sight of the fresh snow before it was dirtied and shoveled out of the way would be worth the all shivering.

Robin didn’t mind her apartment in Balta, or prowling the streets after dark looking for trouble, but for a pleasant, middle-of-the-day stroll, Florien was the nicer neighborhood. Perhaps she’d even make her way through to Maple Hill and visit her uncle. She never left Robert Lynwood’s abode with an empty stomach, or without getting an earful from her last remaining relative. Balta is so dangerous Robin. Move back here and learn the merchant’s trade. Or, at least allow me to assist you in getting an apartment in a nicer neighborhood, perhaps Kalihina, or you could set up your little, ah, enterprise in Lanesboro. I have connections, as you well know. Ugh. On second thought, she could wait until her uncle marched into Balta himself to check on her. That was how it typically went, anyways.

Robin would continue her walk, humming to herself and taking in the familiar sights of the city while largely lost in thought. Eventually something would catch her attention though. A member of a group of guards would fall off their horse. Robin, while finding this amusing, was ever wary of Mirrim’s guards, and would simply hang back to watch. That sort always got huffy after embarrassing themselves. Robin would wait until they passed to go about her way, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention. She was visibly armed, even if all she carried was a fashionable dueling sword for self defense, and didn’t want to seem at all like a potential threat to some guard with a wounded ego.

Luckily for Robin, things would get more interesting from there. A man, seemingly a commoner by his manner of dress and way with animals, would attempt to calm the horse. The guard didn’t seem to like that, and yelled at him. Then, a modestly dressed woman emerged from an alley to scold the guard. To make things more interesting, she was actually taken seriously by the guards, and even commanded the mystery man’s attention. Hmm. Perhaps some noble lady had decided to dress for warmth rather than to reflect her status? That . . . didn't exactly make sense, plenty of fancy clothes were warm, so Robin figured she must still be missing some information. Unfortunately, she couldn’t quite hear what they were all saying. She could use her gift to approach unnoticed to get a better listening position, but she wasn’t sure none of them hadn’t already noticed her, so she refrained. Outing herself as a gifted would surely cause a bit of a stir. Half the fun was guessing what was being said, anyways. That said, the woman did look sort of familiar.

Oh wait, was that the princess? Her visage was well known in Mirrim, but Robin hadn’t expected to see a member of the royal family so dressed down. That said, Robin had heard rumors about her going about the city dressed like a commoner, she’d just never given their veracity much thought before now. Just as Robin realized, off she and her entourage went. The gifted cursed under her breath. The mystery man had beaten her to the punch. That could have been a useful connection to make. Though, Robin reconsidered, far more likely to have been a failed endeavor, or trouble than it would be worth. Oh well. She was intrigued enough to approach the man. “Making friends in high places is a good strategy. That though, was uh, ambitious, to say the least.” Robin gave an intentionally forced looking smile. At this point, she kind of doubted that that had been his actual intention, but feigning sympathy was a good way to get the man to correct any mistaken assumptions she was making. “Flattering that guard of hers might have produced more tangible results. More likely to take bribes, you know.”

 

[toriable2016]

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Otherfolk

Nevan.

mood

curious

outfit

cotton tunic and brown breeches

location

Farmlands

interactions

Shepard, his family, and Shikari

tags

@TaperedNightjar @Genii

With his hands still pressed against the window's glass, Nevan breathed slowly and relished in the heat from inside. His limbs felt like dead weight, and his stomach was aching from not eating for several days. Surely, it was okay to rest for a few moments-

Suddenly, shivers coursed down his spine, pulling him reeling into alertness. Nevan was all too familiar with the feeling of bloodlust. In an instant, he jumped to his feet but came face to face with one of the humans inside. As a reflex, unable to control his fear response, Nevan's eyes glowed a fierce amber color, and two small horns began to protrude from his head. Claws reared, Nevan spat out a sibilant hiss to ward the human off from coming any closer. Nevan's instincts screamed as he launched himself onto the farmhouse's roof and scurred to hide up underneath the chimney flu.

Since leaving his homeland, Nevan made it a point to avoid humans and Otherfolk as much as possible. He still did not understand the interworkings of either kind, but being isolated for a decade will do that to you. He had underestimated his fear of both humans and Otherfolk. But, he thought, it could be his only chance to get the answers he had been searching for. After all, they didn't look too threatening. The humans must also be okay. He had never seen Otherfolk and humans in the same room before.

Taking a deep breath, Nevan slid down the roof towards the gutters. Curiously, he leaned over (upside-down) to peer through the window again. He reverted his features to his humanoid form as he stared intently at the man standing in front of the window. He timidly greeted the man through the window with a slight wave. Though the gesture felt awkward, he did his best to appear calm.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[toriable2016]

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♡

 

[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.

It took only a few brief moments for Shikari to spot the being who was peering back at Oan through the kitchen window. The hawk’s sharp eyes watched as the other’s eyes changed color and horns appeared on their head. Within seconds they had scurried up the side of the home and onto the roof. Shikari was out of his chair and through the door in a flash. The outer walls of the home were covered in snow and ice but he still managed to scale them quickly.

Shikari scanned the rooftop and didn’t notice the stranger at first. It took him a few moments but he eventually spotted the feet and legs that were hanging over the side of the building. He quietly made his way across the icy roof, taking care not to slip on the slick surface. Once he reached the edge of the roof he scrambled onto his stomach and hung over the side of it (although out of arm's-reach of the stranger).

“Can I help you?” He hissed.

The other man’s face looked like a human’s again. The horns and strange eyes had disappeared and were replaced once again with human-like features. Shikari didn’t think it was the act of a violent being. If this stranger wanted to kill them he likely would have already. Then again, some malevolent creatures liked to toy with their victims.

Regardless of what this stranger was planning, Shikari felt a strong urge to keep Shepherd’s family safe from this intruder. It was the least he could do in return for the help they had given him.

Genii
toriable2016