Fantasy Festival of Fantasy

[temporarybliss]

Romance is a tricky topic, especially when it comes to royalty. Royals are expected to marry other royals and yet can’t marry certain royals due to their own duties to their own kingdoms. The entire thing is beyond complicated. This is why the Festival of Fantasy was created. Even though some rulers aren’t the biggest fans of the idea, others don’t mind as long as their children leave happy. It doesn’t matter what they think though, as the Garene Emperor, who rules over them all, has made it a custom no one can escape.

It’s an event where anyone and everyone has a chance to find love, whether you are the eldest Prince about to ascend the throne or a young seamstress just dreaming of a way out of your debts. Today the festival begins. Today each guest has the chance to find love among the other royals and commoners. It’s a long-running tradition, one that no one should want to spoil. After all, everyone seeks some kind of love and acceptance, whether it be romantic or platonic. Of course, the end goal is to find a husband or wife to help lead your kingdom or vice versa, but other great partnerships have come from the festival as well.

The first event of the Festival has officially begun with everyone receiving a flower on their pillow the night prior along with a note, ‘Flowers bloom and so will you, at the festival of flowers find your match and open the hatch to get to know one another.’ The goal is to find the person wearing the same flower as you, whether it’s in their hair, on their wrist or pinned to a suit, the goal is the same. It’s an introductory event at most, so no one should feel any pressure. Not yet anyway.

Flower Fest

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[nios]

mood.

Heightened breaths and heartbeat strummed.

outfit.

tag.

@toucant , Gao

Plagued thoughts scorned her of slumber. Nervous fingers quivered along the lily stem throughout the endless night. She sniffed the lily to calm herself, but alas, it was a fruitless attempt. She continued to pace her room and glanced over to the clock once again. It taunted her as it ticked and as it toc'd.

"Ooh!" Lorelei exclaimed and collapsed ungraceful against her bedside. The flower nearly fell as she cupped her cheeks with both hands. "How am I supposed rest?"

She must have left herself at home, was her bizarre excuse. She discovered herself ill-prepared for the trials and potential tribulations that awaited her. Like the elder clock on the wall, irony now mocked her for the days she endlessly daydreamed and spewed rambles about meeting her "fated one" or being "swept off her feet" by alluring fellows. Now, she circled around her room with demons of doubt and uncertainty. They weighed heavily on her conscience. She found herself in a far worse predicament once she learned of her "confinement" within the palace grounds. "They expect us to stay put? When there's a whole new world out there to explore," she vented to her brother and knight.

Lorelei sighed and took in her surroundings. This room lacked comfort. It was missing the essence of home. "Home," Lorelei trailed off. Then, rejuvenated with hope-filled verve, the wilted flower sprung to her feet and led herself out of her sleeping quarters in haste. The name of a gentleman named Callahan echoed throughout the corridor. It was within the comforting presence of her brother and a newfound ally—a cauliflower— where Lorelei finally surrendered to exhaustion. In a sleep-coated mumble, she spoke to Callahan with a hand curled around his pinky.

"Let's find... happiness, Hanny. Only happiness..."

Beneath the curtains of stars and moonlight, golden honeysuckle vines crept across the horizon. Showered with velvet ribbons of lapis, a new day has begun. A fatigued Lorelei stirred under silk sheets as she was met with silence. Nay did the allured beckon from the Bruwyth forest nor the light giggles of the flowerbeds were heard. Startled by the silence, Lorelei pushed her tangled tresses away from her face and sat up quickly. Her vision required a moment to adjust against the light filtered through the stain-glass windows. Finally, she was able to recognize her surroundings and her fright vanished. Lorelei took a deep breath before she looked for Callahan— her younger brother. With affection stained eyes, she slipped out of the bed and draped the cover over Callahan before she left the room in nimble footsteps.

With a schedule purposefully adjusted to prevent Lorelei from being late, Lorelei found herself visually prepared for the first festival with an hour to spare. Yet, the princess managed to slip away from her knight, Sir Cesare, and wandered about for forty-five minutes. She found herself in the back entrance of the palace where a grand path seemingly led to the festival grounds. Lorelei, adorned with fine tulle and speckled with embroidered ivory pale blooms, vowed to be extra careful to keep her dress in pristine condition. After all, the dress was chosen by her mother moments after Lorelei was born. Lorelei reached for the lily pinned to her curled hair and smiled with relief. "Good it's still there," she thought to herself before a clamor of voices only she recognized rung through the air.

Princess Lorelei of Bruwyth

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[sunshineysoul]

MOOD: as excited as a little bruwyth baker could be

OUTFIT: make the girls go wild

LOCATION: in the halls of the castle

basics

MENTIONS:
luther and lorelei

INT:
n/a

tags

TL;DR idk if anyone's as excited to flirt with beautiful women as felicity is

tl;dr

felicity

smells like summer romance

the day was finally here. felicity had spent months preparing for this exact moment. as soon as she received the invitation to the Festival of Fantasy, she started making plans. it was one of her dreams to bring her little bakery, her bits of happiness, to the festival of flowers.

"felicity! i'm here early, i figured you needed some help,"

the voice called out from downstairs, in the bakery, all the way up to felicity's room. normally, at this hour, she'd still be asleep. felicity was never a morning person, she always opened her bakery up an hour AFTER all the other shoppes opened. when she started on her own, everyone teased her, telling her she'd never make it if she didn't put in the work to open at the same time as everyone else. she always scoffed thinking back to those comments, she definitely proved them wrong.

but that day was different. felicity hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. ever since she opened the letter from the kingdom of solstice, there was no way she was going to sleep. she was up and at em, putting her hair up into her braids, to keep them out of her hair as she worked, and as soon as she heard luther's voice, she sprinted down the stairs.

"luth! you're NOT going to believe this!" she practically jumped on her assistant baker.

see, ever since bell's bakery started attracting way more business, felicity found the budget to hire on an assistant. although, the hiring process was not the fastest thing in the world. with her nature of being cynical and untrustworthy, felicity believed everyone was trying to get in on her business just for the money. just for her success. not only that, but there's a reason her bakery did so much better than all the others, she was very particular in how she baked, what ingredients she used, she couldn't hire on someone who wasn't going to take that time, she could hire someone that was going to cut corners. she must've interviewed over twenty people before she was convinced she had to give up.

and then she found luther on her front step. she vaguely remembered him, he was a few years younger than him at the orphanage, one of the only boys that was moved to another single mother home right there in bruwyth. while she didn't fully remember him, luther never forgot about felicity. she was the only big sister figure luther ever had in his life, and when he heard word that she was looking for a baker's assistant, he knew he had to try.

long story short, the stars aligned, and felicity trusted luther enough to hire him to come work with her. and the two were a dream team. he followed all of felicity's recipes down to a tee, her magic treats were exactly the same, just doubled. he helped her with budgeting, with ordering more ingredients, even with marketing. felicity swore to herself that now that genny abandoned her, she had no family. and she would never let anyone get close to her again, not close enough for her to consider them family just for them to ditch her. but she considered luther a good friend, almost like a little brother.

so it was very normal for her to throw her arms around the scrawny boy in excitement. it was NOT normal for this to happen so early in the morning. luther gave felicity a confused look and flinched a bit when she shoved a paper in his face.

"i got invited! bell's bakery is a featured treat in the festival of fantasy! my first festival of fantasy and the host kingdom is solstice! can you believe this?" she gushed and gushed, felicity always had a tendency to ramble and have word vomit when she was excited. luther had learned to understand her babbling, unlike most in their town. and when he fully understood what felicity was saying, his mouth dropped in disbelief.

"no way! you mean you get to actually go inside solstice!"

the two shared their excitement before quickly moving to plan her leave. she double, triple, even quadruple checked that luther would be okay on his own. and luther double, triple, even quadruple reassured felicity. they let their customers know that felicity would be gone and it would be just luther, they let their suppliers know that she would need a huge load of ingredients for herself to be delivered to solstice.

felicity stood in her room, in front of her dresser mirror, trying to make sure she knew this was real and not just a dream. she smacked her face, pinched her arms, even splashed water on her face.

yep. this was definitely real.

~~~~~~~

the first day of the festival and felicity already felt exhausted. she spent all day hauling her ingredients to the little shoppe that was set up for her. she wished she had luther there to help her, he had become really good at picking up the organization felicity so carefully put together in their original shoppe. however, it was just her. the solstice hosts reminded all the invited shopkeepers to simply ask if they needed any extra hands, but felicity reassured them that she was able to handle it all on her own.

typical felicity, she could never ask for help. somehow, along the way of her growing up and maturing, her mind had convinced itself that no one would ever want to just genuinely help her to be a good person. they were all out to get her and to hurt her, somehow.

this was the obvious cause of felicity's exhaustion. she was laying in her room in the solstice castle and instead of wandering around and exploring best she could, she had flung herself on the bed, not even opening her bags and unpacking her belongings.

the castle was stunning. its beauty was unlike any other castle that felicity had seen. now, to be fair, felicity had only seen the bruwyth castle, and only from the outside at that. but she had seen pictures of tairis, cidal, phora, so many other castles in books and drawings. but the entire kingdom of solstice was always a bit of a mystery. that was one of the biggest things that had felicity so excited and thrilled to be invited to this year's festival. she loved exploring, it was the childish nature still in her, exploring the unknown, looking for answers, but at that moment, all felicity could do was save energy for the ball that evening.

she had at least hung up her outfit for that evening, to avoid creases and wrinkles. while her main goal was not to meet a woman to marry, she certainly wasn't going to turn away the opportunity to meet and flirt with the many women that would be there that night. all the royal children were there, of the pentarchy. while felicity was more than familiar with her dear princes lorelei of bruwyth, she'd never laid eyes on any of the other princesses, and she was determined to charm at least one of them at some point in the festival. marriage or not.

when she first entered her room that day, she found a beautiful flower awaiting her on her pillow. an orchid, it was a beautiful deep pink, almost purple color. the instructions were that every attendee had a flower, and they had to wear the flower somewhere on themselves; either pinned to their clothes, in their hair, or some other creative way of displaying their flower. and the point of the ball was to find the other individual who had your matching flower.

felicity didn't have the energy to find a creative way of wearing her flower. she decided she would just tuck it behind her ear, hopefully the purple would stick out more if it wasn't pinned to her orange floral suit.

eventually, she knew she had to get up and get ready. she had been hearing a few echoes of footsteps and conversation float through the castle hallways, signaling to others that the ball was beginning. she picked herself up off the bed ang began getting ready. she showered, made sure her waves fell exactly how she wanted them to, in a simple and elegant way. she did her makeup, a simple yet alluring smokey eye and nude lip, and threw her suit on. she gave herself another look over in the mirror before finally walking out the door.

she tucked her orchid behind her ear and took a deep breath in and out.

if this doesn't make the ladies swoon, i don't know what will

 

[qunqun]

mood.

Let's get this shit show over with.

outfit.

tag.

Gao

White. There was white everywhere. It was choking. He couldn’t breathe. There was just white everywhere in his mouth and nose. He was on his hands and knees as the weight of the blanket of cold white snow was slowly suffocating him. And then a flash of red. Red. Heat. Warmth.

A reach out for it in the snow. A savior. Someone save him please.

Graham jolted awake from where he’d fallen asleep.

Something soft tickling his face as he grabbed it, held the offending item up as he sat up like lightning struck him, eyebrows creasing as his brain clicked out of panic mode and into trying to figure out what was going on.

“... What the feck?” A flower on his pillow. Soft red petals against the white expanse of sheets that he’d been so generously given by a duchess. A blink as the terror of dreams thudded heavily in his chest. A couple of heavy breaths, and a bead of sweat running down from his hairline to his cheekbone.

He laid back down. His heart still going a mile a minute as he held the offending flower up. Right, he was chosen, or whatever, for the festival. Though, maybe he’d finally pissed off enough of the nobility that they’d decided to just get him hitched instead and signed him up without him knowing. Either way, now he was in this entire debacle. A sworn permanent bachelor.

A thud next to his head as he let the arm fall down.

Please, like that’d happen anyways.

It wasn’t like he liked thinking about it very often, but a part of him knew that the only person that actually truly gave a shit in this wretched existence was dead. The only one that could’ve given a shit, at the very least. And what’d he done to repay that unconditional love?

Killed her.

So, he guessed the rest of this wretched existence was his punishment to pay, and like a man living on death’s row, he might as well make his sentence at least have some comfort before the merciful grace of an ending.

That is to say, he was at least willing to smile and give a little bit. Ease his guilty conscience by trying to help others. Or, in other words, have some fun to alleviate that burden. The poor feck that got his flower deserved better.

He had the decency, though, to show up. Even if he didn’t like the idea that he was going to let someone down. After all, he did genuinely care about his flings’ wellbeing. He wanted the best for them. Had a bad habit of not being able to say no.

But, Graham figured that it would be unfair to his partner to try to marry a man who was already dead.

So with great effort, he hauled himself out of bed and looked at his wardrobe options. For something like this, he’d want to put his best foot forward. That is, if he was trying to make a good impression with his assigned partner.

Did he want to make a good impression?

No. He needed his partner to know exactly who he was and why they shouldn’t even think about getting into a romantic partnership with him. So, he hauled a coat on and some pants and called it a day. No shirt to be found, how scandalous. Let them all talk and spread the word about how the poor Poppy Person ever got such an asshole and a whore for a partner.

That way, at least, they could be saved from his fecking nonsense.

He found his way through the castle, giving a couple of winks and flirts to the people that gave him strange looks for his attire.

Graham, at the very least, knew how to spread the rumor that he was an asshole and an unapologetic flirt.

If he was feeling particularly out of his depth because of all of the unknown faces… No he wasn’t. This was just like the first day of entering the palace. Yep. That’s all this was. He put his best smile on and walked up to the first person he saw who was… currently smacking at some flowers while angrily pulling them out in wild motions.

Now this. This was content. Graham put on his best smile and approached, trying his very best to not actually show any kind of amusement or laughter in the fellow who was clearly offended by the flora surrounding him.

“Oi, what’re ya doin to the-” A whip around to him. Crazed stare of pure unadulterated hatred. Graham took a step back without realizing it, the sudden fear he felt bubbling deep in his stomach.

“Hullo, mate….” A slow smile spreading across his face. Trying to not be too awkward about this entire experience. “Ehm… So the flowers. They….”


He let Rajah finish that one to help fill in why exactly the noble had decided that they’d offended him.

A sage nod. “Yeah. Yeah. The bastards.”

An attempt at commiserating. Empathizing. The immediate drop of his smile with a very serious expression. Yes they were horrible. Flowers. Yes.

A quiet plucking of the poppy from behind his ear as he cradled it in his hand protectively behind his back in an attempt to shield it.

This was fine.

Graham Byrne of Bruwyth

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Gao]

TAIRIS VISCOUNT

MOOD.

DON'T ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING.

OUTFIT.

TAGS.

qunqun (Graham)

They’d always preferred the tongue-curl of something bitter over flower-sweet.

Taste of copper coins held between bladed teeth, crushed poppy seeds and tendrils of husky opium over bowls of honey milk and thick cream. Harboured in the core of Tairis’ golden apple, toxins resting dormant in trace amounts; cinchona rot still to be exhumed from delicately portioned fruit, Rajah Ibadah was a ravine source of citric and lime. Easy to swell from a drop into a sea, sand crumbling beneath feet faster than pig fat melting on a hot-iron pan.

Sour, ruby froth in water was known to summon sharks, drawn to wounds and the warm wet pulled from capillary. Skeletons strewn of cartilage and gelatin flesh from acid seabed, a phantom man built from a regolith of salt and brine. No doubt cold-blood swarmed bitter, infused potent with venomous stupor and vein-bound reverie.

If one were to consider the Serpent’s feelings towards soft-scented flora, all green husk and filament, they may have noticed the crinkle of unsmiling eyes, sea-shoal shallows void of light and blemished with newborn ire. How adorably wrong-footed to brim his prized ivory vases with blossoms; a woman’s interior design now desperately, hatefully unwanted.

“For me?” In lips dwelled a corner of something bitter. “My sweet, you shouldn’t have.”

No, truly, honestly, you really shouldn’t have.

Palm looping arm to pull them closer, body a gentle anchor whilst white teeth press grateful kiss to their forehead.

Leave my vases the fuck alone.

Treasured porcelain (real and expensive) now huddled with prickled bloom, solution required only a moment of privacy to snatch and scramble for the nearest window, hurl the arrangements loose like freed doves. When the monthly pursuit would return days later, curious on the whereabouts of her gift, well, my love, they wilted. How very sad.

A masquerade skin stretched taut over bones, the Viscount had since snipped sutures of that flower-giving-fling for better, brighter jewels. (Hesitantly, regrettably) putting aside debauchery and mouths of spit to polish eyes as holy stones and scrub hands with phantom prayer. Solstice his haunt, Festival of Fantasy his possession, it was but another costume to don an—

Steps froze in the doorway.

What the fuck was on his bed.

How Rajah wished it could be blamed on hallucinogen or dehydration. The very silhouette of ire, perched ever-so-arrogantly on the plush of his pillow, red-thorned and evil.

Flower. A charcoal-rimmed eye twitched, a flex of fingertips, gloved nails scratching silent air at his side. This is fine.

He’d tried to stifle the disgust, really tried. Plague of itch and sweetened miasma fated to gloss eyes and irritate the wet lining of his throat. Soft-petalled and pretty and all things pollinated, pinched in gloved fingers like a misplaced worm; hatred for the rose was almost palpable.

Sourced from a beloathed garden, clipped and gathered by undisclosed hands just to be arrogantly seated on a pillow, Rajah had every intention to hurry to the window and toss it out like a diseased rodent. If not for the note plucked open in his other hand, the urge would’ve been fulfilled.

‘Flowers bloom and so will you, at the festival of flowers find your match and open the hatch to get to know one another.’

No. Rajah’s lip downturned. Absolutely not.

He folded the parchment in half, then another, and another. Condensed into a fragment to stow away from the shutters of his mind; desiring nothing more than to start over, bury past cadavers and excise grit from an extended, forever enigmatic palm.

Landscape dwindling into dawn, the blanket of night had escaped like rice through fingers. Clothed in charcoal to mourn the unfortunate turn of events, accursed flowers, the Viscount had found the early destination of the garden. Heinous rose pinned to black and entrapped by flora, there’d been nothing better to do than wander Solstice grounds.

Until a sharp thorn hooked his sleeve.

Stopped dead-still, serenity dissolved his mouth into grave-dirt. Sage iris drawn to the branch taken hold, he gave an annoyed tug to try and get free.

Rustle.

“Stop.”

Alas, the bush would not be so easily deterred. Plants weren't known for their ears.

Tug tug. Rustle rustle.

Scarlet-heart brimmed with venom and loathing, patience took a steep vertical drop. “Get off. You little fu– come here!–” It was forceful hand that split sepal from shrub, crushing the blossom akin to a squeezed lemon and abandoning its carcass at his feet. Dusting clothing, floating a heavy sigh at peace restored, he went to continue his stroll.

Another branch immediately caught his pant-leg.

Why?!

Final seam of self-restraint untethered, it was there, in Solstice gardens, the motion of a slow swallow and tensed jaw to warn of an oncoming attack. Talons snatching petal and stem, bending away buds and sepal like a feral animal.

“Oi,” accented words bit down, jolting Raj like a stroke of thunder, “what’re ya doin to the-”

Meeting the revelation of company with alarmed glare, the Tairis Viscount had all but forgotten politesse purpose. How it freighted the arrival’s body— and what a body it was, —with something undefined. Deer-eyed or doe-eyed, would they be bared antlers or a spooked bolt?

A greeting, a smile. Doe-eyed it was. How endearing.

“So the flowers,” they continued, petal remains still clutched in gloved fists; Rajah knew there remained no remedy to this situation. “They….”

“Touched me.”

He meant it to sound confident, smooth. Instead the reasoning came hollow, sheepish to have been caught. Facing the slow exorcism of time, lips pursed in horrible self-awareness. Having unstitched every suture of logic with only two words and a scrap with a bush, the festival was not going well. Maybe, he pondered, there was still time to go home.

Delicately scathing, he returned a gentle nod to the stranger’s words. A calming interaction, agitation unfolded and eased like a sun-hot stone dunk into a river. With the favoured source of distraction, attractive people, Raj could take the moment to inspect this charismatic vision.

Poppy red haloed by light, eyes dragged slow, intent over the slope of their nose, angled features and bold attire. Fetching, it was someone you’d replicate out of marble, press paint to canvas for, attempt poetry about. A man who cannot hold flinch in the low of his stomach, yet brandishes body like prized jewel, strange. Arriving as a shift of rippled scales, unfurling satin between ribs; an urge to map constellations of what runs ice through their skin, the darkness in prey’s pulse tucked rapidly beneath the jaw.

This terribly dishevelled thing of ethereal measure; Royal, or decorative ornament?

Who cares? —dredged salacity rose to the surface of his pollen-hazed mind, I've always liked tinkering. Villainous obscenity was shoved away with swats of alarm, not a time to wander off-path. Drink them in as if to paint mind with memory, then move along.

We must stay focused.

“May I ask a favour, pet?” Endearment rolled easy as a layer of fog, tender like vanilla. “Could you?” He motioned at the branch still stubbornly snared, requesting assistance. “I fear it fancies me a little too much.”

Anticipation was next to bloom against ribs. An excuse to draw the fawn closer over remnants of distance? Of course not.

That would be preposterous.

RAJAH IBADAH

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Mon Amour.]

mood.

uneasy and somewhat confused

outfit.

tag.

Moonlight spilled from the sky, its milky glow seeping in through glass windows and illuminating the room with a luminescent shimmer that made Sebastian’s eyes glint dangerously, dark hair a stark contrast to the light-coloured walls around him. He stood, hair tousled and hands in pockets, still dressed in the dirty robes of travel from his lengthy trip from Cidal to Solstice – even hours after arriving, Sebastian had not bothered to change into a clean pair of clothes, too stressed to even perform simple actions. There was some sense of apprehension in him as he had entered the large, towering castle, eyes always moving around, always checking. There was always a threat, he’d learned, when his father had been killed even with dozens of guards to protect him; always an assassin on the prowl, or a thief ready to pickpocket.

It was a mysterious place, Solstice. Sebastian had heard tales of it when he was a child – the land of the stars, a legend never to be found. But he was here now. And so were Dorian and Rhiannon, and royals and knights and villagers that he’d hardly met before. Some part of Sebastian felt the usual whirl and twirl of excitement of meeting new people, the little hops his heart did when he thought about someone he’d learn to love. But at the same time there was that itchy, tugging feeling at the edge of his mind that told him that there was definitely someone here that could be sinister.

He was somewhat scared. It was a strange feeling, being afraid. Sebastian had only felt this when he was a child, eyes wide and afraid as he stared up at his foreboding mother, shying away from her cold glares and scurrying for cover as she came close, like a timid mouse running from a goliath eagle with glinting claws and sharp eyes. Another time he’d felt it was when the news of his dead father reached him – shock and grief and rage and sadness and fear all mixing into a tear in his confidence, the outside world of danger now worming inside of his brain. The strong emotions had slowly ebbed away now, but the fear that another assassin might come to kill him and his siblings remained. Sir Henry was here, Sebastian reminded himself. He’d fend off any intruders. But what if they did get past, and they killed him too?

Sebastian pushed away the negative thoughts from his mind, instead focusing on the lotus flower that had been left in his room. It was a beautiful flower, really, now that he looked at it, pinkish-white petals delicate and pristine, a complicated beauty waiting to be unraveled, neatly placed on his pillow. Wondering whoever had the same flower as he had, Sebastian let out a small sigh, deciding to simply push away his worries and have a good time trying to seduce everyone the next day. Changing into his nightclothes swiftly, the prince took one last look at the dark surroundings outside of his window, then shut the curtains and blew out the candle.

–

He woke to the warm touch of golden sunlight on his skin. Cidal was a cold place, somewhat rainy and more cloudy. Sunshine was a rare occurrence in his home kingdom, the few moments the bright light cut through the clouds only bringing harsh shine in his eyes. There was an ethereal beauty to the sunlight in Solstice, as if a layer of tinted filtering had been added in the sky. Everything was in honeyed tones, beautiful and soothing. Sebastian moved his hand through the air, watching his fingers. It was almost as if the light was amber nectar, flowing in slow and graceful swirls and making his skin tingle under its warm touch.

Pulling himself away from the voluminous mass of velvet sheets, Sebastian ran a hand through his mop of dark, messy hair, the fatigue from staying up so late evident on the slight dark circles under his eyes. Somehow, that even added to his dishevelled appearance more, making him look like the most un-royal-like prince to ever exist. Hands wrapping around the half-finished wine he’d brought along on his bedside table, Sebastian took a long swig, spicy-sweet taste lingering in his mouth, floral notes mixed in – how fitting. He looked towards the lotus on his bed, somewhat wilted from him accidentally crushing it in his sleep.

“Well,” he said, touching its ruined petals with a hefty sigh. “That won’t do.” Sebastian discarded the lotus on the floor of his room, instead focusing on how he looked; appearance was everything, of course. He would simply pluck another one from the gardens – surely a kingdom with so much sunlight would have lotus flowers somewhere.

Making his way to the restroom, Sebastian looked at his dishevelled reflection in the mirror, grabbing his comb from the large bags he’d brought while travelling. The dark-brown locks refused to untangle themselves as he brushed a wooden comb through his messy hair; the dark bags under his eyes did not disappear as he splashed his face with water; and his lips adamantly remained dry no matter how many times he ran his tongue over them. Sebastian slumped back against the wall, wondering how much of a wreck he looked. He could have sworn his appearance was alright – no, better than normal yesterday, but now it looked as if he’d become a commoner.

This wouldn’t do. Not at all. Sebastian found himself repeating the phrase in crazed breaths as he hurried around, sorting through heaps of clothes to find something, anything that could charm. Most of the things he’d brought were either too formal or too informal, nothing really in-between. He was somewhat anxious now, so much unlike his usual laid-back demeanour. Sebastian had to get at least one person to deem him worthy of becoming their partner.

Breathing deeply, Sebastian looked away from his reflection, hoping to convince at least himself that he looked fine. He turned his attention to the mass of outfits in his bags, kneeling down to pick one that wasn’t too ceremonious, but at the same time acceptable in high society. Rose-gold buttons, cerulean vests, and white dress shirts flooded his vision, though eventually he came to settle on a simple yellow vest over a milky-white ruffled shirt paired with dark trousers.

After changing, Sebastian decided there was no more use fretting over appearances anymore. He let out a short sigh, before opening the door and hurrying purposefully to the Solstice gardens. Drenched in sunlight, the verdant area was a sight to behold. Sebastian took in the vibrant green leaves, sun-kissed sunflowers, and so much flora and fauna that it almost made his head spin. He looked around somewhat dazedly, eyes eventually settling on a small pond to his right – and there was the lotus.

There was only one, much to his annoyance, but it was pretty at that. Covered in pretty pink petals, the lotus flower stood proudly above the shallow water, sunlight seeming to shine exceptionally bright around it. Sebastian looked around, perhaps for a pair of scissors to chop it off and pin it on his suit, but there didn’t seem to be a gardener around. He swallowed thickly, forcing a confident grin on his face, before looking around to see if anyone was staring at him strangely – before he took off one shoe, stepped into the water, and plucked the lotus out from its stem.

Accidentally, he pulled out the whole root as well. And the leaves. Sebastian let out a little gasp, before hurrying to tear out the flower, hurriedly replanting the remains of the lotus leaves in the water before hurrying away from the crime scene, picking up his shoe in a rush. The bottom of his right trouser was stained with mud, a strange smell radiating from him – the scent of dirt and perfume of the lotus all over him now.

Sebastian froze as he heard voices near him, quickly slipping his shoe back on and looking away from the lotus. The source of such sound seemed to emanate from two men a few metres away from him, one with torn flowers in a hand, and another with a strangely alluring outfit. Still hurried and somewhat baffled, Sebastian sneaked around them, trying to brush off the mud on his trousers. Hopefully, they’d dry before he found the other person with a lotus.

Prince Sebastian of Cidal

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Harrowhark]

MOOD: Nervous + Inadequate

OUTFIT: gold + blue

LOCATION: Outside Esme's room (not in a creepy way)

basics

INT:
Esme temporarybliss

tags

TL;DR cant sleep, so studies all night

tl;dr

Cyrus

— Hidden in the Sand

Cyrus had never intended to participate in the Festival of Fantasy. He was happy to work and maybe observe, but actually participating seemed like such a royal thing to do, and he was not a royal. A fact he was far too aware of at all times.

However, Esme had other ideas. A knight had no right to say their princess, especially when she was literally begging him to do it. Cyrus had a hard time saying no to anyone, even if she was his best friend. So, he rather nervously entered into the festival, not that anything would come of it.

Cyrus was in no position to marry for the time being, he wasn’t sure he ever would be. There were so many people in the country of Solstice alone, how could he possibly love only one for the rest of his life? Add four more and the entire idea made him sweat. Especially with the possibility that none of them might even like him at all.

People fascinated Cyrus. They were all their own stories, many of which he wanted to read and experience. He could never pick just one book to read for the rest of his life, so why do so with a person? Of course, reading of true love and romance was a pastime he enjoyed. One purely of fiction. Through his years at court, he’d seen dozens of relationships grow and fall apart, even marriages. The risk, however calculated, was exceedingly high and, in his opinion, not worth it.

Unfortunately, Cyrus would do anything for Esme, even if it meant putting his heart on the line. It was only a week, not nearly enough time in his opinion to make such a huge decision, but he could survive it.

The flower in Cyrus’s room taunted him. He wasn’t the only knight who had been roped into this, but it felt like he was the only one with doubts. If he were to be paired with a prince or princess, what on earth would he do? He was hardly worthy of it, and whoever was holding this same flower would be disappointed.

In proper Cyrus fashion, he had studied the profiles of each and every participant. Not just to familiarize himself with the attendees, but for safety. He combed for threats to the country, leaving no detail untouched. Through the process, Cyrus did find some faces he might enjoy the company of, not that he’d admit it.

His nerves got the better of him, leading to a restless night. Cyrus knew better than to waste it, instead he slid out of bed and sat back at his desk, staring at the stacks of paper before him. One more look at the participants couldn’t hurt, especially if he wasn’t doing anything better.

~~~

By morning, Cyrus had memorized the important parts to heart. Name, age, country, position, and a few personal details. Not nearly enough, but it was the best he could do for now. Instead of his usual armor, he picked out what he considered nice. Though he was sure it wasn’t enough to make someone swoon, it was enough to escort Esme to the garden. Which he was already running late for.

Cyrus hastily pinned the flower to his chest and triple checked he had his sword before rushing out the door. The barracks were practically empty, all guards likely posted at the garden by now. Walking at top speed, he navigated the castle’s halls, nodding to the posted guards as he went. Outside her door, he paused to catch his breath. A glance at his pocket watch proved Cyrus was not a moment too soon.

A light tap on Esme’s door with the back of his knuckles should be enough to alert her, but with dozens of visitors a day, he always announced himself. “Esme, I’ve come to escort you to today’s event.” Hopefully she wasn’t running much later than he was. As the hosting country, that wouldn’t reflect well on them.

code by valen t.

 

[t e t z e l]

mood.

well hello there

outfit.

tag.

weldherwings

The morning had come of the first event and the youngest princess of Phora could be found slumped in her bed, already woken and dressed for the day but not fully ready for the event. Adelaide found her body hard to move with a lack of proper motivation so she planned for laying until she could find the will to drag herself out of her room to the event that was probably about to start right about now. Up until then, she laid there and stared at the measly little dandelion that had been left on her pillow the night before. She couldn’t help a thin smirk that crossed her face at the idea of someone leaving a weed on her pillow and calling it a flower. Nothing she would fuss over but just a funny little observation that she would get a weed while everyone else got an actual flower. Though she wouldn’t be the only one since her partner got one too.

She sighed at the thought of being paired up with someone on the first day, but could only hope for the best. She hadn’t had the time to prepare for something such as this and especially didn’t have time to test the waters in terms of socializing. Who knows, maybe she’ll like the person she ends up with and at worst she could use the excuse of being unwell after the long travel here.

In reality, Adelaide wasn’t attending for love or even an arranged marriage that would inevitably happen if she didn’t find a life partner from this. She was the youngest princess out of five, she could marry for love and that's a privilege she didn’t intend on wasting for a stranger she would only get to know for a week if she didn’t love them. Truthfully aside from her father forcing her, Adelaide’s siblings needed the moral support during all of this. Their marriages were a must so if this event doesn’t go well for them then it’ll be hard to say how they’ll be after all this mess. If things go well then she can tease them all about their newfound loves and maybe befriend her new sibling in-laws.

As for herself, she just hoped to get out of this without having to make an escape plan from an unwanted fiancé. At best, she might actually find someone but that seemed highly unlikely. She might make a few connections from other kingdoms but she couldn’t imagine finding love this quickly. Not to mention, her social skills are less than apt but this was an event where she couldn’t rely on her Lady-in-waiting to mediate everything. Briar deserved to enjoy the festival so she put her on paid leave to go enjoy herself to the fullest. She would, of course, still interact with her outside of the events and maybe during some events since she considered her a best friend but she would limit herself for Briar’s sake.

With a small sigh looking at the grandfather clock in her room, she willed herself to get up. She tucked the tiny dandelion behind her ear and went to the vanity to pull her long wavy golden locks up into a high ponytail so the flower can be seen by whoever her partner will be. Looking in the mirror, she saw only a beautiful young lady preparing for a social event. A lady who was gentle and kind and everything you can ask for in a princess. In reality, she knew she was far from it but that was not something she could reveal so easily to strangers.

Doing one last final check up of her gown, hair and makeup, She promptly started to head out of her room and to the garden where the event would be held. As she walked down the corridor that led to the garden area, she was able to admire the decorations of the solstice palace. It wasn't often she was in a new area, let alone a different palace. Exploring would have to come later though as she glanced ahead of her and saw the solstice garden and slowed her pace a little, to enjoy her last moments of peace before being thrown into the first event.

Princess Adelaide of Phora

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[.chxrryette.]

mood.

Nervous, yet excited all the same

outfit.

tag.

Maia weldherwings

The entire night, Eridanus listened to the beating of his heart. Initially, he might have misconstrued this feeling as excitement, but the dread that followed only reinforced his suspicions; he was anxious. Even though the Festival of Fantasy was already upon him, he still felt uneasy. Despite practicing his introduction and memorizing topics to discuss with potential matches in the weeks leading up to the event, he felt woefully unprepared.

However, a sense of curiosity accompanied the anxiety that festered within him. This event will mark the very first time that many kingdoms will visit Solstice, and it was exciting, to say the least. The prospect of meeting other princes and princesses from far and wide gave him a sense of novelty. Having always been curious about the world beyond Solstice, he was delighted to finally have the opportunity to indulge his curiosity.

Even so, he could not shake that vile feeling of dread regardless of how enthusiastic he thought he was. Many intrusive thoughts materialized in his mind throughout the night, occupying his conscience with endless questions. What if you make a fool of yourself? What if you never find your future queen? What if the other royals consider you a disappointment? What if, what if, what if. His sleepless nights before the festival were the consequences of these worries.

His gaze was fixed on his bedroom's ceiling, unmoved, despite the fact that the festival would begin in two hours. It was very unusual for him to act this way. Usually, he would be the first in attendance at these types of events, but these worrying thoughts made him sluggish. At this point, he might as well consider himself late. He dragged a hand down his face as he lay in bed for a few minutes, whispering to himself, "I don't need this. Any of this."

Looking to his left, he examined the flower he had received the night before. A tulip was assigned to Eridanus, and he imagined the other recipient’s appearance, personality, and voice. While this was only speculation, imagining a kind and sweet princess helped alleviate some of his anxiety. Taking the tulip gently in his hands, he twirled it slowly, admired its shape and petals. His focus then switched to the warm golden light streaming through the bedroom's two large windows and opulent curtains. He was still in bed even though it was already morning. What are you doing to yourself, Eridanus?

“I need to get up,” Eridanus said to himself, much louder than before.

As Eridanus placed the tulip back down, he forcibly hauled himself out of bed and to his dressing room.

- - -

Eridanus' confidence would benefit greatly from having someone accompany him to the festival. Unfortunately, he was certain Esme would already be on her way to the gardens, but Maia on the other hand…

Eridanus shook his head in annoyance, already picturing his sister lying in bed and fast asleep. Or perhaps, she would be preparing herself to leave for the festival as well? The more Eridanus thought about it, the more he realized that was more of a dream than a reality.

Observing himself in the mirror, he pulled his silk waistband taut with the tulip stem caught in the center knot. His attention was drawn to trivial details of his garment, hair, and face after a few seconds. In order to best represent Solstice, he made certain every angle of him was perfect. First impressions mattered, and he was determined to do the job right. After he smiled at himself in the mirror, he was greeted with an equally as dashing smile in return.

Yes, this will do.

If he continues to make these incessant adjustments, he will be late, and his chances of making a good first impression will be ruined. If he stayed, he might discover yet another flaw in his appearance.

The clock in his main bedroom caught his eye as he exited his dressing room. With only an hour until the festival's start, he had to check on his sister, Maia. In no time at all, he left his bedroom and began walking quickly down the hall towards her room. In response to his subsequent thoughts, Eridanus furrowed his eyebrows and compressed his lips to form a frown.

“Maia is getting ready right now. Yes, she will be getting ready right at this moment.” Eridanus thought, trying to fool himself into believing the impossible and further delaying the inevitable.

It seemed like the brainwashing worked since Eridanus was surprised to see Maia still fast asleep with little to no movement. He was about to physically throw her out of her bed, but he could not muster the gall or the energy to do so. Instead, he reached her bedside, leaned in slightly, and vigorously shook her.

“Maia, wake up! The festival starts in an hour. You need to get up right now!” Eridanus would not allow her to be late, much less appear at that festival in such a disheveled look.

✦ Prince Eridanus of Solstice ✦

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

© weldherwings.​

 

[Harrowhark]

MOOD: Nervous, dying inside

OUTFIT: butterflies

LOCATION: Garden entrance

basics

INT:
Adelaide t e t z e l

tags

TL;DR so close to running away from this festival

tl;dr

Alera

— Once Upon a December

Alera had been dreading this day. Part of her thought that maybe, just maybe, if she never fell asleep, it wouldn’t come. Of course, no pleading and begging would help her. The festival was starting, and she had one wilting orchid to remind her.

Despite having the help of a few maids, Alera managed to slow her dressing down, savoring the extra seconds of freedom. Everyone told her it wouldn’t be so bad, but how on earth could things get any worse. It didn’t matter how kind any prince was to her, and yes her father specified a prince, she would dread the wedding regardless.

Veil draped over her shoulders, Alera no longer had an excuse not to attend. She tucked the orchid under a cluster of butterflies, if she were lucky, it wouldn’t be seen.

“The room is boiling, your highness, are you alright?” A maid desperately tried to fan her, but Alera knew the gesture was pointless.

“Yes, just nervous.” She wouldn’t admit how deep the rabbit hole went. If she did, she’d stand out that much more, a weed in the garden of perfection her father had built. “If you cannot stand it, you are free to leave.” Alera watched her maids as they left her alone, likely for the last time at this forsaken event.

“Oh gems. What am I to do?” She looked at the butterfly clip on her bedside, air gem gleaming in the morning light. Alera secured the clip on the back of her head, though the temptation to leave it and the sweltering heat behind were great. “If you can hear me, you ought to save me from this nightmare.” There was nothing the crystal could do for her, but she’d always hoped it might use it’s power to take her away. It wasn’t sentient, and Alera knew she was dreaming just like a child.

One look in the mirror proved she no longer should be stalling. As always, she was the image of perfection. “Try not to make a scene,” Alera muttered to the clip as she pushed the flower further under a butterfly wing. A deep breath took a few degrees of heat with it, bound to return momentarily.

Feet betrayed her, walking to the door when she’d rather lay back in bed. As if on autopilot, she was in the hall, closer to her doom. “I’m ready.” As ready as she could be.

The entire walk, though escorted, Alera felt completely alone. The possibility of encountering her savior was lowering with every step. She was really going through with this, wasn’t she. With the garden in view, her whole body told her to turn and run, but she was in heels, and running wasn’t ladylike.

A blonde head of hair caught her eye at the entrance, her final hope. “You look nice.” Alera came to stand next to her sister, nudging her with her shoulder. “For someone wearing pink at least.” Her least favorite color. Not that it looked bad, it just looked bad on herself.

Adelaide, her baby sister. Even now, she looked so young. This was so unfair to all of them. It was just how things were, but they shouldn’t be that way. Alera knew she was likely the only one of her siblings who would like to rule, but she’d never get the chance. At least, not in Phora. If she did though, she’d never make anyone marry like this.

“The dandelion suits you.” Maybe she could just talk to Adelaide the entire ball. Alera would even allow some mischief to end the night early.

code by valen t.

 

[L3n]

LADY IN WAITING

MOOD.

wooo pretty flowers

OUTFIT.

TAGS.

open!!

Briar has never traveled outside of Phora.

She had heard talk of people leaving for vacations, or schooling abroad, but an opportunity never presented itself for her personally. Before today, that is. Briar was going to visit another kingdom! She wanted to walk down all the halls she could. What’s their food like? Did they have accents? The redhead wanted to smell every flower, to touch every surface. Better yet she wanted to gaze at the stars. She wondered if in Solstice they were as pretty as books described them to be. Sparkling splatters of light decorating the sky as far as you can see. Some say the stars watch over the townspeople below.

As they began their journey over Briar was practically bouncing off the walls in excitement.

The redhead was so excited, in fact, that she couldn’t manage to get to sleep for hours. Tossing and turning in the unfamiliar bed; running through various fantastical outcomes for the week in her head. What if she met a local woodcutter and it was love at first sight? They could run away together and live in the woods. Not that she had anything to run away from, she loved her life with her highness. Still, the possibility that anything could happen this week excited her. Even if she didn’t find “love” she’d get to experience everything in Soltice. Briar didn’t know when, but somewhere during her rambling thoughts she drifted away to sleep.

When Briar looked in the mirror after getting ready she could hardly believe her eyes. The noble ladies' family had always been on the poor side, disguising their lack of wealth by spending their money on a lavish home and decor. Her parents had to cut corners when it came to their daughter. The effect this had on Briar wasn’t a traumatic one. It just meant she never had anything nice to call her own. Her dresses were plain hand-me-downs, and Briar appreciated them gratefully, but pretty dresses she had bought for the festival? The ones she had always dreamed of wearing? Seeing them on herself almost made her tear up.

Running another hand through her bouncy curls, Briar did a turn around to see how she looked from the back. There, pinned to braids she had draped to the back of her head, was the lily she received on her pillow. Fun fact; did you know lilies stood for innocence and rebirth? Briar did, she knew quite a few flower meanings from a book she read. The book wasn’t anything cute, though, it was about a murderer who taunted the police by using flowers to clue them into who they were going to target next. Okay, focus Briar. It was time to head to the garden.

Her highness and Briar had discussed that they’d do this event separately. The redhead tried to shake the nerves from being all alone. Maybe she should check up with the princess? Meet before the ball? No, no Briar you must give her space as she asked. Briar knew if she went and found the princess she would be even more hesitant to leave her side. She had to just walk in.

LADY BRIAR AINSWORTH

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[weldherwings]

mood.

let me sleeeeeeeeeeep please!!!

outfit.

tag.

.chxrryette.

Princess Maia of Solstice

The cold, crisp morning dew tickled her bare feet as she wandered into the thick fog enveloping her surroundings. Her dress dragged along the forest floor, staining its ivory fabric and tearing at the slightest touch. A shaky exhale revealed her breath before her in the icy air not before a shiver took over her body. Such a large, elaborate dress laid firmly and snuck upon her body, but nothing to catch or throw out the chill that whipped up against her bare skin. The forest before her was breathtaking; the trees were tall and towering, the grass was fresh, green and inviting enough to roll down their hills, and the river’s water glistened in delight. Her scenery was quite calming and relaxing, but there was… something.

She didn’t know what it was, but it was there. Lurking.

Taking short, stagnant steps, Maia made her way around her surroundings. Taking in every scent, touch, and sight, wanting to explore this sensation of peace and tranquillity. But the ruffling of the nearby bushes caught her attention. The sensation of a breath running down her spine shook her scared. She was not alone; as she felt before, there was someone lurking. Without even a gaze around, Maia knew what she had to do. She had to run, and quickly. Her feet were numb from the frosty Earth beneath her, and the air around her was causing sharp, piercing aches to her lungs as she sprinted through the forest.

“You can run Princess,” a voice echoed behind her ”But it’s all useless. You will be mine.”

Maia released an exacerbated welp entangled in a cry for help. The further she ran into the forest, the thicker the fog emerged. Her feet were on fire, and the roots of each tree clawed the hem of her dress, aiming to take her down. Finally, gravity was the one to sell her out. A lifted root stood in the way of her impaired pathway and her foot hooked it causing her to fall into a pit of roses. Maia was full of willpower, but here she laid covered in mud, exhausted, aching, and with thorns piercing into her skin. She tried to hold it all together, pushing away the vines of roses that began to wrap her figure. Alas, she was failing as she began to hyperventilate through the tears.

“You will be mine, Maia” the voice said once more. Wide, emerald panicked eyes gazed from the luscious roses that began to take her deeper into pits to the direction of the voice. There stood a tall, dark figure; nothing more than a silhouette with soul-piercing illuminated eyes. “Maia… Maia… Maia…”

---​

“Maia, wake up! The festival starts in an hour. You need to get up right now!”

Only half of the sentence met the sleeping girl’s ear. In her classical, oh so typical Maia way, she had fallen asleep on her stomach, mouth wide open, legs sprawled and hair amess. Deep in a translucent dream, it was the voice of her dear brother that had brought her back into existence. Well, sort of. One second she was dead to the world, and other… well…

“Piss off, you demon!” bellowed the voice of a half-asleep Maia, raising her arm with great force to meet with her ‘demon’s’ face. To assist with the motion and to put full force into her movement, Maia had put her whole body into it, landing her into a half upright position. Her blonde locks sprawled over her face, causing quite a mission to see the face of her attacker. Maia pushed back her hair from her eyes to see just exactly who had been chasing her through the forest and into her doom.

“Oh! Eri!” she spoke in slight shock, her eyes wide and her lips partly ajar. She reached out her hand towards her dear brother, attempting to show some sort of care and comfort towards him “Are you o- yeah, you’re okay. Suck it up, buddy.” She didn’t even bother finishing asking if he was okay, and went straight to manifesting it along with a pat on the side of his arm. And right back down she went; flat onto her stomach, head buried into her pillow and snuggled under her blanket. Who needed fancy dresses when you could spend the rest of your life caccooned in your nightgown?

It had taken Princess Maia far too long to fall asleep last night. Anxiety riddled her helpless as she stared at the walls of her bedroom, replaying moments over and over like an overworked film projector. Her father addressing her in the late hours, pleading with her to be on her best behaviour today, was embedded into her mind. What if she ruined everything today? What if the person she was paired up with didn’t like her and thought she was weird? What if… what if her family ended up being completely and utterly disappointed in her? And then, at a certain point of the night, her anxiety was fuelled by a new overwhelming sense of dread. She had to be perfect. She had to wake up on time. She had to be this princess that every kingdom expected her to be.

Which now left her with only three or so hours to sleep. Considering Maia was well known throughout the castle for her amazing abilities to sleep like the dead, she was in danger. And right now, was a prime example of the danger of which she was in. An hour until the festival and she was without her make-up, hair or dress. Forget breakfast because that was only going to make her look bloated, and with that corset pressed up against her stomach, it was probably going to make her want to crap herself.

“Erriii” she groaned from her lovely, comfortable, warm bed, pressing her eyes closed to avoid the morning shine “I’ve already messed up today. Go on without me. Find a beautiful partner to rule the kingdom. Just don’t find someone smarter than me. I want to be able to talk to whoever you marry without having to carry around a dictionary.”

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[temporarybliss]

dress[/URL] center/cover no-repeat;

/* ------ cursor ------ */
cursor: url(https://66.media.tumblr.com/232c090...0344/tumblr_inline_ol4nwhvSwg1uxxza6_75sq.png), auto!important;]

mood.

anxiously excited

outfit.

dress

tag.

Harrowhark

The moment that it was announced that the legendary Festival of Fantasy would have the kingdom of Solstice in attendance, Esme was excited like never before. She’d have the chance to find love and a happily ever after, just like all of the books she’d grown up reading. However, when it was revealed that the festival would be *held* in Solstice, her excitement mixed with an anxiety about the festival she didn’t even realize she had.

Of course, Princess Esme wanted to be excited, she wanted all of her feelings towards the mysterious event to be positive and curious rather than apprehensive and uneasy. That was when an idea popped into her mind; Cyrus. Cyrus was a knight of Solstice, though he’d practically been raised like another royal. The two had been close ever since Esme found him so long ago and they’d never grown apart. It was for this reason that she decided to force him to come along for the festival, all were welcome, so why not plead with him to come along?

After days of begging and bartering, she convinced him and now the event was here. Royals and commoners from all over had come into Solstice for the festival and had been given rooms based on status as well as flowers for the first event this morning. Cyrus had promised to escort her to the Flower Fest and when she heard the knock and his voice she hurried to finish getting ready. Taking the small lotus flower that had been left on her pillow, the dark haired girl pinned it into the back of her wavy hair, pulling some of it away from her face so only stray pieces fell to frame it. All royalty still had to wear their crown jewels, so she wore a tiara as well as the flower to secure back her hair. She smoothed out her dress, slid on a pair of, slightly less painful heels than usual and gave herself one final nod in the mirror before opening her door to greet the Solstice knight.

“I’m ready!” She smiled, giving a small twirl in her doorway with a smile towards Cyrus. “You know it’s customary to compliment the woman you’re escorting, especially when she’s your princess.” The girl teased with a small smile and a chuckle. He looked handsome as ever with his curly hair parted neatly and the navy coat he wore. He cleaned up quite nicely for a knight, that was for sure.

“Come on now, I don’t want to be late.” Esme shut the door behind her, taking his hand and pulling him down the familiar hallways only to stop, “Oh, what flower did you get?”

Princess Esme of Solstice

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[weldherwings]

mood.

what in god's name...?

outfit.

tag.

Mon Amour.

Sir Henry Williams of Cidal

This was why the other knights couldn’t be trusted.

Henry travelled through the castle in a slight frenzy. Having awoken this morning in the servant chambers, he had discovered the guard who had been positioned to guard Prince Sebastian’s room was doing the exact opposite of that. In fact, the daft man had decided to take a nap in one of the vacant beds within the chambers. Of course, the fool was awoken by a pair of hands pulling him back into reality and out of slumber. He came face to face with Henry, his nostrils flaring and heavy, roasting breath hitting his skin as Henry seethed with anger. He didn’t need to speak; the guard knew that he had screwed up big time. Without a word – which was probably more terrifying than being yelled at – Henry pushed the man’s body back onto the bed with great force.

He had to go and make sure the Prince was okay. Because, for some reason, the royal guards really knew how to screw things up big time. Henry had been on standby for the whole of their travels; from leaving Cidal, making their way through unknown territories, arriving at Solstice, and getting the Prince up into his quarters for the night. Henry had been by the Prince’s side, not taking his eyes off the boy. Now, God forbid he needed to have some shut-eye. To recharge his body in preparations for the great festival before them. Sleep didn’t come naturally to Henry when travelling. There was a fear and dread lingering in the pits of his stomach as he gazed up at the ceiling into the early hours of the morning. Typically, he was a morning person and was up well before dawn. I suppose today was just full of surprises, wasn’t it?

After pulling back his dark locks and tying them up with a leather hair tie, and then proceeding to dress accordingly to his common attire, Henry was on the move within the castle. He started in the most common of places; the Prince’s new chamber, the dining room, the living area, the library. Finally, he began to take his search to the outdoors. There was an array of characters around the castle grounds this morning, having travelled far and wide for such an event as the one being held tonight. With the increase of members within the castle’s confines, there was also an increase in the possibility of misdemeanours. There were always assassins and low-life thieves on the prowl, but Sir Henry made it his business to stop them in their tracks.

His mind began to wander over all the horrible, horrible things that could’ve happened to Prince Sebastian. Someone could’ve kidnapped him and was cutting the tips of his fingers. Or someone could’ve robbed him blind, leaving him with nothing but his socks to wear. Or the worst of them all; he met with the same fate of his father. These anxious thoughts flooded his mind that he didn’t even bother to take caution as he sharply took a corner – and right into the Prince himself. Had all his worrying over the boy caused him to manifest before his very eyes? Taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Prince, Henry stood up straight before him before gesturing to him.

You okay? he signed to Sebastian before his eyes began to travel, inspecting for any marks or wounds. It seemed as if he had everything intact but… there was something off. The new scent tickled his nose, causing it to scrunch, and the sight of the mud-ridden clothes etched a frown upon Henry’s face. What in the… What had the Prince gotten himself up to in that short period of being left unattended? Henry’s mouth slowly hung open at the sight of the tainted trousers and bare feet before him. Was this how the Prince was going to present himself at the Festival? Surely not. Pointing down at Sebastian’s feet, Henry gazed up at him with an urgency and alertness. What the hell had the Prince gotten himself into?!

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[qunqun]

Solstice Entertainer

mood.

socially awkward

outfit.

tag.

L3n

The giant Atlas carries the world on his shoulders as his punishment, with nobody to share the burden.

See, Auguste was having a pretty alright day, if he was being honest. He went out to pet the horses for a bit, listened to the wonders of nature while he toiled away stretching his body out for rehearsal. A work out, to be sure. A long endurance test mixed with flexibility. Keep himself limber and strong.

And then he went and showered and went to his room to change into performance clothes when he saw… a flower. A dainty little thing. Bright yellow and oranges against soft white.

He reached over and claimed it and laid it down on his desk as he got ready - soft ribbons and cloths wound around his waist and his hair braided with ribbons. He decided to braid the bright marigold into his hair.

There, he looked presentable. The terrifying giant that Solstice kept in its court, nicely groomed and ready to mingle.

He was mostly here as a job - he thought he was supposed to work as a dancer here and nothing else. But much to his surprise, he’d been entered into events as well! It was… surprising, and something in his head told him that it was a trap…

But, well… The idea of love?

It was kinda nice. It seemed nice. It was nice.

He had to keep telling himself it was nice or else he might start thinking too hard about the implications of someone wanting him to marry off. But yeah. It was nice. It was nice.

He went down into the gardens, taking in the sights as he walked. Unsurprisingly, he towered over everybody as he went.

It wasn’t really his fault, but he was certainly eye catching when looked at. And to be honest, he didn’t really like being looked at like an oddity when he wasn’t on stage. It felt more personal in his day to day life, like he’d done something wrong that he couldn’t fix.

No, no, it was just him.

So what was a giant to do in this scenario other than awkwardly peer over everyone’s heads, trying to find his match and desperately pray that his own match was not one of the weirdos who seemed to be currently throwing a little bit of a fit over some flowers.

This was… a lot more difficult than he imagined.


Oh! There! A yellow flower that looked somewhat like his.

The giant lumbered over as the sea of people parted for him. Perhaps out of fear of getting trampled. Which was fine with him, quite honestly it would’ve been very not good if he trampled someone while just trying to meet his partner in this entire mess.

“Ehm…” A quiet, deep voice. A soft accent, melodious in a way. Soft spoken. Easily talked over. “Hi. You… You have the marigold, no?”

He was really really trying to have this conversation work. A little feet shuffle, not really meeting eye contact.

“I… Yeah. I have this.” A turn of the head to show off the marigold in braided hair. “I am Auguste, it is… It is good to meet you.”

Somebody please put him out of his misery. He wasn’t built for this whole “meeting new people” thing.

Auguste Cortes of Solstice

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[L3n]

PRINCE OF TAIRIS

MOOD.

titties

OUTFIT.

TAGS.

qunqun (Auguste)

Helios couldn’t help himself from pacing the guest room.

Up and down, walking in circles, anything to keep him busy. He played with a marble-sized ball of fire in his hand, gliding it through his tapping fingers. This is what despair felt like, Helios thought. A whole week away from home. His work, his desk, his people. When they got back to Tairis there’d be a pile of papers to fill, and not just for him, but for his siblings too. And his mother. He could do it. He just wished he could handle it all now instead of later. How was his father managing? Helios failed to realize his pacing turned into spinning around until he faceplanted into the bed.

Relax. Think of this as a vacation. Everyone loves vacations. Helios felt his skin crawl at the idea of doing nothing. Okay. This is a work trip, yeah, he’s totally here on business. Clinging to that thought finally let his mind rest enough to get a good night's sleep.

The prince woke up to a flower on his pillow. Was this here before and he just missed it? He was so glad he rolled to the other side of the bed, he could have crushed the plant. How embarrassing would it have been to arrive at the flower ball with a mangled mess of petals? The royal slid out of his bed to get showered and changed, not grabbing the flower until he was ready to walk out the door. They were supposed to meet in the garden. As he made his way over he spun the plant in his hand. What was he to do with it? Pin it to his clothes? What kind was this anyway?

Helios arrived at the ball, actively looking around the garden to find a place to stand. He never liked crowds. They were too loud, too suffocating. The prince would rather focus on the flowers in the actual garden than the ones in others' hands. So that’s what he did. He let his eyes wander, zoning out the crowd of people that seemed to keep getting larger.

“Ehm..”

Helios could hear a low and soft voice behind him and from.. above his head? Helios turned to face the man who approached him. He had to look up an inch, two, three.. oh sweet Heavens this man was tall. His gaze bounced from the man's eyes to his lips, trying to make sure he could hear what he was saying over the other people. For having an imposing height and build the stranger's tone was rather meek. Auguste was clearly pushing through his nerves to make the first approach. It was all rather interesting.

“Marigold. So that’s what it’s called,” Helios said, his voice steady and comfortable. Looking closer at the flower woven in the man's hair to the one spinning in his own hand they were identical. The stranger really was his match. That was quick. “It looks lovely in your hair. It suits you well, Sir Auguste.” Helios reached up to his own head to braid the marigold into his blonde locks. The prince turned for a moment to show it off. “There we are. Now we match. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Helios.” He offered out a hand for the other to shake.

The prince looked the man over. Auguste had style. His outfit stood out even among the other fanciful clothes. The stranger half of his chest out yet struggled with nerves to talk to Helios. What a fascinating combination. “Would you care for a walk? I fear the place is getting more packed by the minute.”

PRINCE HELIOS

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[sunshineysoul]

mood.

very much not wanting to be there

outfit.

tag.

t e t z e l Harrowhark

The festival of fantasy. The name had daunted the youngest prince of Phora for the past five years. This festival was always fun for him and his siblings. They got to run around, meet other royal children like themselves, and alistair got to run after them with his eldest sister, alera, trying to calm down the other three. Until he was seventeen, he looked towards the festival of fantasy with excitement and fondness. It was a chance for the five of them to get away from having a royal facade in front of others and be kids with the other royal children.

But once he was seventeen, the fun wore off. Once he was seventeen, he saw how his older siblings were treated at the festival. How they were always courted and having potential spouses thrown at them. They no longer got to enjoy themselves. At least, that’s what it looked like to alistair. He knew that once he was past the age of eighteen, the festival would no longer be fun for him. He would be constantly courted by other women, and he had never felt any kind of romantic feelings for any woman he’s met. He chalked it up to him being too busy and not having time for romance.

But there were so many other things besides romance that alistair had to worry about. The biggest was making sure his older brothers were on good enough behavior to find themselves spouses, since they were next in line for the throne due to their father not believing his eldest daughter was fit for the throne.

that always bugged alistair to no end. out of any of the phora children, alera was the one ali always felt closest to. let it be known that he loved all of his siblings, more than anything or anyone in the world. but maybe it was the similar sense of responsibility between them two or something else, but alistair always felt closest to alera, he always looked up to her. he remembered following her around when he was younger, and when he had a nightmare or a bad headache, alera was the one he ran to. out of all the phora children, alistair though alera was best suited for the throne.

but it wasn’t up to him. it wasn’t up to alistair or any of his siblings, it was up to their father. and their father insisted that a woman couldn't hold the throne. alistair wanted to yell at his father to look at cidal and bruwyth. cidal was being ruled by only their queen, and bruwyth was letting their children decide who would rule. alistair desperately wanted to tear his father from his traditional values and opinions. but he knew there was no point.

so alistair had to do his best to make sure ana and atti were on their best behavior. because either way, they were all going to be expected to come home at the end of the week with one or multiple prospects for marriage. alistair knew he was of age now, he was twenty two. there was no way for him to avoid women trying to come and court him. there was no excuse, this was his job now, he had a responsibility to his kingdom, to his father. it was a responsibility he quite understood since he wasn’t going to be king, but alistair didn't have the gall to stand up to his father about that.

~~~

The morning of the ball finally came, and alistair was up before the sun. he was sat at the desk in his room, writing furiously in a journal of his. Yes, alistair kept journals of his days, his moods, major events in his life, etc. his brothers teased him, calling it a diary, but alistair always dismissed them. Journaling was one of the many things that kept alistair sane, that helped him stay accountable and remember certain things.

He was so enveloped in his writing that he only heard the door close as someone left his room. His head whipped around, and found nothing new with the scene, only a flower placed on his pillow.

Ah, the flower for the ball… right…

Alistair reluctantly stood up, and took his dear, sweet time to stretch. The flower ball was the first big event of the festival of fantasy, and he was dreading it. Everyone had a flower, everyone had to match with the flowers, ali found it all very moot. He didn’t see the reason to pair everyone up through such silly means. Alliances and engagements like these were factual. They were based off of which kingdoms could provide each other with more resources, more riches, which kingdoms could pool their armies if the pentarchy ever broke into war. So no matter who matched up because of a rose or a sunflower, it was pointless. Alistair knew the kingdoms who would try to court him, along with who his father believes he should be trying to court.

One foot dragged along the floor, following the other, as ali slowly walked to his bed. He delicately picked up the flower from his pillow, bringing it close to his face to inspect it.

Hm, a poppy. Interesting choice for a festival said to be about love.

His mind raced to everything he ever read about the small, red, flower. The biggest thing he remembered about it was that it was for the remembrance of the dead. Years ago, people would place poppies on tombstones to help their loved ones rest forever in eternal slumber.

Alistair thought it was fitting. He got the flower that was to remember the dead, and he was wishing he was soon dead. Ali glanced out the window and realized how much time had passed. It was finally time for the ball. He promised himself he wouldn’t stop by either of his twin’s rooms to give them a lecture or pep talk or try to get them prepared for meeting suitors. He promised himself he would only see them once they all arrived at the ball, whenever that would be.

Reluctantly, alistair grabbed his clothes out of the closet and made his way to the bathroom. He took a quick, cold shower, making trying to wake himself up and fully prepare himself for the event. He towel-dried his hair before putting on the deep blue suit. He gave himself a look over in the mirror, making sure there wasn’t a hair out of place, no stray thread on the embroidery.

He felt strange. He didn’t want to be there. In all honesty, he wanted to be home. He didn’t want to deal with the future of their kingdom, he would much rather simply stay at home with his siblings. At this point, he would rather be yelling at his brothers to not run through the hall while their father was in a council meeting. He would rather be cooking the most specific meal for adelaide, his picky eater sister. He would rather be following alera around, doing whatever little thing he could to help her stress.

None of that could happen. Not anymore. By the end of this week, he and his siblings would be taking the next steps into marriage. Courting his future wife, and entering into a loveless marriage. All in hopes that Phora would stand tall and mighty through any trials and tribulations it may face.

I never asked to be a prince…

It was hi final thought to himself before pinning the poppy flower over his heart and marching out the door.

When he arrived at the garden, he already saw a few people mulling around, like at the beginning of any event. People were too anxious to stay in their rooms any longer, but they were also too anxious to initiate a conversation with a stranger. Alistair fell in that category, but as soon as his eyes landed on two blondes talking to themselves. His feet were light as they quickly walked over to them, coming in on adelaide’s side.

“Well if it isn’t my two favorite girls in the whole pentarchy,” ali’s face naturally curled into a smile. His heart always felt joyus and warm when he was around his siblings, they made his life worth living. Especially at an event such as this.

“Dandelion and,” it took him a moment to find alera’s flower, as it was hidden within her dress “orchid,” he hummed, his curiosity was partially satisfied, as he still wondered which flowers the twins got. Ali gestured to his poppy, showing them before he fell silent, his eyes scanning all the women in the room to try and find a similar poppy.

Prince Alistair of Phora

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[sunshineysoul]

PRINCESS OF TAIRIS

MOOD.

trying to disappear

OUTFIT.

TAGS.

none yet !

Princess Carmentis of Tairis. The youngest of the bunch, which also led many to believe her to be the most peculiar in the bunch. But once people really got to know carmen, they would know she isn’t peculiar or strange, she’s simply free-spirited. She reminded most people of Tairis of their queen.

Their queen. Her mother. She was gone. Every year, carmen was accompanied by her mother to the Festival of Fantasy. Technically, the queen was accompanying all of her children, but there was no denying that between the baby of the Tairis children and the queen, there was a special bond. Nothing quite like a mother and a daughter, and while the party line was always “i love all my children dearly” everyone could see that carmen was attached to her mother’s side every waking hour. Even sleeping hours, carmen wouldn’t be able to sleep unless she was with her mother.

She was carmen’s rock. Her best friend, her and helios were carmen’s favorite people in the world. Her mother was always always always there for her, she introduced her to the townspeople and taught her how to make so many friends, she even got her love of dancing from her mother. Carmen admired her mother in every way a daughter could love her mother.

But once the queen passed, carmen wanted to rid herself of anything and everything royal. She hated the castle, hated her crown, at one point she almost swore that she hated her family. If it reminded her of being a princess, it reminded her of their queen, which reminded her that their queen is dead.

Her mother is dead.

Her mother was dead and would never get to see her marry. Her mother was dead and wouldn’t be able to help her choose a suitor. Her mother was dead and couldn’t give her the same pep talk she gave her older siblings. Her mother was dead and wouldn’t be able to look at carmen in her wedding dress and cry.

Her mother was dead, and sometimes, carmen wished she was too.

She layed in bed, hours after she was awake, still. Unmoving. The last thing she wanted to do was participate in the festival. If it was up to her, she would run into the wilderness of the unknown kingdom of Solstice, and never look back. Change her identity, cut her hair, change everything about her, and never look back to Tairis.

Those were the dreams that overtook carmen’s mind most of the day. Dreams of her starting a new life, going somewhere where no one knew who she was. Would she miss her siblings? Of course, she would probably find a way to keep in contact with Helios, of course, but she imagined how much she could do with her life if she left the royalty behind.

Maybe she could learn to sew and make clothes. Beautiful flowy dresses, stylish and practical blouses, adding whatever designs and embellishments she thought would look nice. Maybe she could be a farmer, helping plant, take care of, grow, and harvest a vast array of crops to cook and eat herself. Maybe she could even become a teacher, teaching her small bit of knowledge to the kids around her, that seemed pleasant.

If she could just escape from the life of being a princess…

But she couldn’t. At least, not this week. While the mystery of Solstice’s wilderness seemed appealing to carmentis, she knew she didn’t stand a chance. All the festival guests were staying in the castle, which meant high security. There was no way she would be able to make a break for it.

So instead, she had to settle for getting ready for the ball. She didn’t see the need in showering, seeing how she did so the night before, when they arrived. She rolled out of bed and noticed the flower on her pillow. It was a bright pink hibiscus flowers. It actually brought a smile to her face. She had only seen pictures of them drawn in books or on paintings throughout the castle. Her feet spun her towards the wardrobe so she could pull out her dress.

It was very unlike anything carmen normally wore. First off, it was very fancy and frilly, but also the color. Carmen liked to stay with warmer tones, reds, oranges, golds, etc. but this dress was a mix of light blue and lavender, with a bunch of tiny flowers throughout the dress. She thought it was beautiful of course, she had just never worn anything like it before.

But there was no need to have an identity crisis over a dress, carmen let her feelings about the dress slide off her back as she stepped into it. She made quick work of pulling the straps on, adjusting the bust, and fluffing out the tule, before she turned to her mirror to begin her hair. She pulled some framing pieces of her hair back and pinned them up.

As she turned to leave for the garden, she realized she didn’t know what to do with her flower. So on a whim, she quickly pinned it to the back of her head with the other pins. Maybe the other person with the hibiscus flower wouldn’t be able to find her.

There was no helping the gasp of air that Carmen let out when she saw the Solstice garden. It was truly magnificent and the pure definition of stunning. Her carmel eyes didn’t know where to focus on, there were so many colors and flowers throughout the entrance alone. Her eyes quickly stopped on a familiar face, her brother, Helios. She wanted her feet to quickly move to him, to find some comfort to dissolve the pit of anxiety in her stomach, but her feet wouldn’t move. No they wouldn’t move because she already saw him talking with another man, someone who had the same flower as him. She couldn’t go now, she couldn’t go now and make him look bad.

So carmentis opted for taking a deep breath, calming herself, and slowly milling around the entrance of flowers. Maybe someone would approach her, or maybe the event would start and she could wander the garden alone.
[/COLOR]

PRINCESS CARMENTIS

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Jigajig]

mood.

Brimming with nervous excitement

outfit.

tag.

Harrowhark t e t z e l sunshineysoul

"OK again... and all four of you come at me this time. Remember what I taught you." A single voice pierced through the silence that was within the room. Five figures stood within, four facing the last, a much noticeably taller figure. That figure was Estella who stood poised, sword raised to her front as if it were a Rapier and she were fencing. Her eyes slowly gleamed over the four individuals in front of her. Two men and two women. Knights in training. Grinning slightly one of them lunged forwards, a glint in the light, a blade swinging down. She merely sidestepped the attack spinning a full 360, smacking the back of her attacker's head with her hand. "Sloppy"

The other three came at her at once, in a three pronged attack. Rushing from all sides the other three came at her with vigour launching an onslaught of attacks. Estella blocked each and every one of them, her body twisting majestically as if she were in a dance with the others. The forth attacker swung at her back with a arching diagonal downwards sweep.

Estella spun once again in a full 360, her blade striking her attackers. She put so much force behind it she sent their sword flying. Chuckling she looked around the room. "Still some learning to be done I think. Class dismissed" With that Estella left the training room and headed back to her own quarters. It had been quite a long day, spent getting ready for the Festival, making sure security was of the utmost highest standard. Normally Estella would spend more or less her entire day guarding the Royal Family on a rotational shift. However today had been somewhat different. As Solstice was due to host this year, it was imperative that the visiting royals from the other kingdoms be well looked after and kept safe. Estella had made sure there was extra guards, more patrols and that security was tighter than corset.


Once Estella finally returned to her room and opened the door however there it was resting neatly upon her pillow. A Dandelion, the bright yellow, a stark contrast to the soft white silken sheets of her bed. She knew of course she was invited to the Festival but it surprised her still she was to partake in this flower partnering. The notion of her finding a potential "Partner" was....exciting to say the least.. along with interesting. Being a 6,8 tall woman Estella stood out from the rest like a sore thumb... Not that she minded being tall.. it was just the other person who might do. Sighing she removed her armour setting it upon her stand before suddenly faceplanting the bed wearing her leathers. It wasn't long before sleep took her and soon a new day would dawn..

The sound of tweeting roused Estella from her slumber. It was early, very early. She yawned before sitting up and looking about her room. Her eyes scanned over her usual attire, her armour which stood proudly upon her armour stand. However... today was different. Her gaze turned to the other corner of her room where it was met with her outfit for the day. She smiled as she strode on over and began to get ready. Glancing in her mirror she, made sure her hair was neat and that her appearance was nothing but perfect. She WAS representing the kingdom after all and a sloppy visual would not do. She turned her attention her attire and began to put it on, fastening the Dandelion to her front like a broach. Sliding on kneecap length boots and then throwing her coat over her shoulders she nodded to herself. Picking up a ceremonial sword and sliding it into the sheathe on her hip she checked herself once more and nodded. With everything done she left her room and headed towards the gardens, her footsteps echoing along the hall way. For one of the few times in her life she felt nervous. Who could her partner possibly be?


Reaching the upper level of the gardens, Estella observed the lower gardens, her eyes catching glimpses of people below. Making her way down some steps, she noted three figures ahead of her, two women and a man, who seemed to be conversing. She ran her gaze over them all, recognising them vaguely from the research she had done on all the guests. Members of the Phora kingdom is she was correct in her line of thinking.. Estella in her viewing failed to notice that one of them had a Dandelion tucked behind their ear, from the angle she was approaching. Walking past the three of them, she nodded at them in greeting turning slightly so her own Dandelion was on display, before walking on.

Royal Protectorate Estella Blackwood

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Tondc]

mood.

Laidback, care-free, devoid of pretenses

outfit.

tag.

OPEN

With over a decade of experience in living with a loose definition of time, Rhiannon was hardly punctual for anything. If she even bothered to show up at all. Yet, when the invitations to the Festival arrived at the Palace, there was a sound of glee that echoed through the halls. The Festival would be held in Solstice, a place, like her brothers and many of her people, had only ever heard stories about. Yet, the chance to see the recluse kingdom in person just arrived in a neatly sealed envelope. A chance to enjoy the thrills the Kingdom had to offer, even if it was to be defined within the context of the Festival. She wouldn’t admit her apprehensions for the Festival, but at least now the intrigue of the location balanced out those fears. When it was time to pack, Rhiannon was the first one done, and the first one on the transport to Solstice.

It was a whirlwind upon arrival, getting everyone from the Cidal party situated in their own chambers. Though, despite the chaos, it did not take Rhia long to settle in before the festivities were set to begin the following day. She had requested wine be brought to her in the evening prior. Nothing fancy. Just something to relax and take the edge off and enjoy. She had droned out the lectures on how important this event was from her mother in days leading up to now. And until the wine traveled down the back of her throat, it was almost as if the lectures were still a dull ringing in her ears. She rolled her eyes to herself as she surveyed the room. A tulip with a piece of paper laid next to it was missed upon her first arrival.

Rhiannon laughed to herself at the first festivity, amused with the idea. It was a good one, even she had to admit it. Split them all up with flowers. The moment was dampered when her mind fully registered what flower she was assigned, an eyebrow rising the same time as the left corner of her mouth rose. A tulip. The assignment was underwhelming at best. She shrugged with an added shake of her head as she placed the tulip next to the now emptied wine glass.

---

There was a knock at the door. Persistent. Rhiannon groaned, turning over in her bed. The knocking continued. “Your Highness, are you awake? The event is to begin soon,” worry laced through the servant’s voice. She craned her next towards the clock, eyes widening for a moment at the time, shuddering. Well damn. Guess I cashed in my annual allotment of being on time getting here.

“Yes, I’m up, don’t worry! I’m practically ready to head out.” A lie. Of course.

Rhiannon rose, tossing the covers to one side as she became a whirlwind to get ready. At least she had practice at rushing, twenty-four years of it. One of the multiple dresses she had brought, begrudgingly, suited the occasion almost perfectly, the blue flowers of the shoulders flowing down the center. Though, by the time she slid into the dress, and found the accessories she wanted, it seemed half of her belongings were sprawled across the room. She sucked in a breath, almost admiring the mess she made, though realizing she’d have to pick it up later. A problem. For later. She paused in front of the mirror, doing a once over of her handiwork. Grabbing a hand mirror, she held it behind her while grabbing her hairpiece, the cool gem embedded in silver. Placing it at the center of her hair, she then eyed the tulip. Sighing, she grabbed the blooming flower’s stem before weaving it through her hair, the flower almost visible from the front, though more so from the side or back.

A grin. “It could be more obvious,” turning to eye the flower’s placement, “Make them work for it I suppose.”

As she made her way towards the garden, thoughts traveled to her brothers and the others who arrived with her from Cidal. No doubt Dorian was ready yesterday. Sebastian maybe not, but she imagined he was likely there before her, Henry chasing after him. Then there was that Duke that came along, Markus. Who was to say with him.

Her steps slowed as the extensive gardens game into view, taking in the sights. It seemed a few people had already made their way, though none seemed to have been paired themselves off yet. A hand rose to check the tulip was still in place before Rhiannon entered the main path of the gardens, glancing around at those she passed, eyeing up potential conversations or the matching tulip bestowed to someone else.

Princess Rhiannon of Cidal

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[qunqun]

mood.

Flirting? Flirting? Flirting? Fllirting?

outfit.

tag.

Gao

A blink. A stare. God ,this man was staring at him a lot. It wasn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary, the state of people staring at him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that he was a looker - someone people were generally physically attracted to.

It’s just usually people weren’t so blatant about checking him out until

Unfortunately, Graham was a whore.

He didn’t actually find himself all that upset with being looked at up and down like he was the next slab of prime cut to be devoured. Derived some sort of thrill from it, at the very least.

It was nice to be talking to someone that knew what he wanted, after all. The game was fun and all - Graham liked the feeling of verbal sparring and a bit of a chase. But, well, the easiness of a pure and simple act had its place in his heart as well.

Essentially, whatever got the job done, got the job done. No more thoughts when he was too busy tangled up in sheets and the thrill of someone new to think.

But that was neither here nor there. He continued having his eyes trained on the flower punter, eye contact and a sultry gaze through the sheepish admittance of the flowers… just… touching him-

Cool. Didn’t like flowers. Noted. Really, really, really, really did not like flowers. Maybe he was allergic or something…

… Okay, yeah just having that run through his head a couple of times made it sound insane. Graham really hoped that Rajah was extremely allergic or something.

But that was neither here nor there.

Another little thrill of pleasure at the little pet name. Like a dog’s ears perking up at the beckoning of its owner.

Listen, he was here to turn everyone down and go home still a bachelor and still a whore… And, well, a whore’s gotta whore, y’know?

So, he gave Rajah a little head tilt, his face betraying none of the pleased nature of a dog being praised that he felt. Calm, a serenity underneath the warmth of a smile.

“And what if I like you a bit on the… encumbered side?” Came the response. A step forward as he slid back into his role. A little poke to the chest, creating a walking man with two fingers as it crept up to Rajah’s chin.

“Though, if you’d like it, we could use silks instead.” He said, a lopsided grin tugging away at the corners of his mouth as he cupped Rajah’s cheek. Just so that Rajah knew that he was having a bit of fun with him, and not actually serious about leaving him stuck to the local flora.

A hand dropping to easily unhook the offending thorn on the black sleeve, green eyes finally breaking the sultry stare but for a moment so that he could make sure that the viscount was freed. “You think that’d be good, love?”

A wink to wrap it all up in a neat and tidy bow. Rajah didn’t seem like the type to enjoy being tied up, but hey. Being wrestled into submission was its own pleasure that Graham knew quite well.

Worst comes to worst he’d get slapped and he’d have to actually go find his partner or something. Which would be mighty boring, but whatever. He could do that as well.

Graham Byrne of Bruwyth

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Gao]

TAIRIS VISCOUNT

MOOD.

WE MUST STAY FOCUSED BROTHERS

OUTFIT.

TAGS.

qunqun (Graham)

One of the most human of annoyances, whether for self, family, unknown company or mercurial strings: nobody was beyond love. Not even Rajah, relationships— flings pathing damnation, Eros clashing Mania, abyss of absence carved deeper still. Without company the Viscount would fear to waste away on a chalky sea-bed, starved of entertainment in charcoal grit and dust shadows.

With the day sweetened in a palette of himbo sunset-orange, that fear didn’t appear to be nearing fruition anytime soon.

Met with a smile soft as moss and eyes empty as emerald pools, the head-tilting idiot— yes, you, I’m talking to you —seemed vacant as a meadow. Only at their salacious words did Rajah wonder if mistaken, perhaps incorrect to have assigned meeker, soft-pelted labels. A pulse that stirred and bled from hollows, perhaps this was a playmate worthy of his focus.

What was most delightful about the encounter was that Rajah hadn’t done anything (much) to provoke it. Caught fighting a shrub like some psycho then respectfully observing the interruption to filth— Raj was allowed to look.

There was nothing wrong with looking.

A portion of Rajah’s subconscious would even argue it wise to browse wares before investment. Occupational years spent locating weakness for sport, copper gilt in gold lacquer and cutting rubies out of wine-red glass; if there were merits to be found in candour and not priceless relics drooled with molten yolk, the Viscount was still yet to experience it.

“I’m afraid liking something doesn’t mean you can have it. It’s considered bad manners to indulge spoiled things.” He smiled, warm. “Unless you’re willing to persuade me otherwise.”

Earn it, in sophisticated disguise and saccharine syllables.

As an extension of karma (good or bad undecidedly), Graham— curious soul, had taken it upon himself to invade personal space. Having someone tiptoe unknown boundaries before Rajah even had a chance to retaliate was foreign, walking fingers akin to the demanding pawing of a puppy; attention successfully ensnared.

And you know what? Personal space was overrated, anyway.

Unless they were ugly. Then personal space was highly valued and Rajah would break someone’s fingers.

But this? This was fine. Happy. No finger-snapping needed.

At the proposition of silk, it only calcified the hellion was going to be a terrible distraction. No matter how much Raj tried to bite down on it, a quiet laugh escaped, and to the other’s credit, he even thought he felt a little warmer. In a different time the Viscount would’ve sipped such moments like nectar, drink in each phantom-drop of ambrosia till sick with it. Ambition had since sapped indulging wayward enjoyment, yet by no means brought lethargy to his interests.

Unfastened from flora with an approving hum, damsel Ibadah ran a hand over his freed sleeve whilst being served a wink.

Oh wow. Wow indeed. Unstoppable charm.

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” Ciphered eyes narrowed in a way that would seem ominous if not for a fond smile. Smitten with the oddly charismatic man, of course, with interest that could only dwell skin-deep.

To interlopers: a moment of special intimacy. To someone like Rajah, simply a standard greeting; taking Graham's jaw with an unkind hand. Mocking, almost. An almost-promise of sharp nailed crescents pressed to skin if not saved by the divide of gloves.

“And to whom do I owe the pleasure?” Emphasis on pleasure! —Rajah’s evil subconscious hissed, followed by its sobered, tired counterpart: God, I am clearly derailed. “Though a match has not yet graced my presence, I find it lovely to be met with yours.”

Frivolous and lacking proximity was his favourite past-time. Thumb lifting to skim the soft of Graham’s lip. The touch weighted with purpose, pressing down until grazing teeth and gum, if only for a moment, before distance fractured and hand was withdrawn.

Because he was only looking.

Nothing wrong with looking.

RAJAH IBADAH

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[qunqun]

Solstice Entertainer

mood.

panik

outfit.

tag.

L3n

The worst of Augsute’s dreams were becoming a reality right here and right now.

Oh no, the guy was nice.

Nice was just… nice. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t bad, it was just… nice. Nice. Fine. It was fine. And it made it so much harder for Auguste to accurately gauge how much of a shitty person “Helios” actually was…

Not that he was… shitty. Or anything - it’s just that Auguste hadn’t met anyone yet who wasn’t hiding skeletons in their closet and the sooner the other shoe dropped…

… the better.

In the meantime, frivolous little compliments were thrown out and yeah sure whatever it was fine. The quiet voice in Auguste’s head told him that it was just trying to ice break the natural social anxieties that the giant tended to spew everywhere.

A handshake, a slight dip of the head. “Thank you…” Trail off. How were you supposed to accept compliments again? He didn’t really get complimented on his looks all that much - didn’t really perceive himself as being all that attractive. Too many scars, built too intimidating to actually be handsome.

A little shuffling of feet, and the ducking of his head, perhaps making eye contact for a single moment.

“Ehm.. you look-you look good as well.” Nailed it! There was a long pregnant pause as Auguste’s mind whirled for something to fill in the really awkward gap in silence.

He was built more for remaining still and silent, like a beautiful work of art for people to gawk at rather than actually touch and interact with - scary, scary.

Essentially, he was wondering now if death would swiftly come before he decided to very suddenly melt into a pile of goo into the ground. That sounded nice right about now.

His heart leapt at the idea of going off somewhere alone. He liked that a lot. The less people around, the better quite frankly. And the less likely he was to trample these tiny tiny humans that were running around. Yes going off somewhere alone sounded great.

Wait but what if this guy was crazy and was going to murder him and he needed to be alone to do that. There were too many witnesses right now for Helios to possibly do anything weird so he probably needed to get Auguste alone and then what, he was going to take out a dagger from his coat and then stab him to death yes this was definitely the only singularly logical conclusion why anybody would ever want to hang out with him.

A smile. A very fake smile. A very fake gummy awkward smile that did not sit on the usually dour man’s face properly.

“Ehm…” What was he going to do? What was he going to do? He couldn’t deny Helios the opportunity to kill him though because that would be incredibly rude to decline the offer because they were supposed to be mingling with their partners - he got partnered up with a murderer oh no oh no oh no

… wait.

… Auguste could just… overpower him. He was way larger and this noble probably had 0 actual practical fighting experience. It would be fine.

“Yeah.” A series of blinks. Nervousness. “Yeah. That-... A nice walk sounds great. I… I will follow you, no?”

Another very awkward smile, like a cat attempting to pull its lips back into a grin.

Yep. This was it. Auguste was going to die.

Auguste Cortes of Solstice

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[L3n]

PRINCE OF TAIRIS

MOOD.

save me

OUTFIT.

TAGS.

qunqun
(Auguste)
sunshineysoul
(Carmentis)

Helios wasn’t expecting anything from all this.

The flower ball, the selected partners, and anything else the festival had in store for them all. He had to just go through the motions of each day to then stress about all the work he was missing at night. The prince could do that. Setting aside his internal turmoil, as one does, he focused on the small talk he was exchanging with the giant.

“Thank you…” Auguste had said before getting even more awkward. His legs were fidgeting; his head was ducking down, seeming to visibly try to shy from the prince, which Helios thought was at least a bit humorous. Helios was below the performer, height-wise. If the other wanted to avoid looking at him all he had to do was look up. Then there it was. A split second of eye contact, which seemed to come sparingly from the man. Auguste fumbled out a compliment.

Helios went as silent as the giant. Shock? Disgust? He gave no tell as to what he felt for at least three long eerie seconds. Then his face changed. He couldn’t restrain the smile from coming any longer. The prince even chuckled, shaking his head. He appreciated the other's sentiment, even more so with how hard it seemed for Auguste to say. "Why thank you."

Compliments did not come his way sparingly. From childhood, he’d been showered with them. Helios took great pride in others' kind words when he was younger, basking in the attention whenever he got praised for doing a simple task. ‘Prince Helios your swordplay is magnificent!’ ‘Prince Helios your handwriting is gorgeous!’ ‘Prince Helios your paintings are so expressive!’ It wasn’t long before he realized he wasn’t gifted at everything, he was just royalty.

Helios regretted bringing up running away together leaving the crowded garden ball fast. The other man wreaked awkwardness, his words were drenched in nerves. Had Helios come off as weird? What exactly did he say? The prince put a hand over his chin, looking off to the side as he thought back. “Hey, you look nice. Want to come to an undisclosed private location with me?” Oh god, he sounded like a kidnapper. He was going to whisk away the man and lock him in his basement, by the sound of it. Helios wanted to clear the air, (“I don’t have a basement, I don’t live here”) but that didn’t sound like a good idea. What creep would admit they were a creep? If he brought it up in denial, that would be just as suspicious.

The prince returned the awkward smile, even an awkward chuckle. The pair were obviously forced compared to his real laughter earlier.

“That sounds excellent then, a walk would be lovely,” Helios responded so he wouldn’t go silent. Oh dear heavens, he was digging himself into a hole now. Wait. Auguste was taller, and from what he could see, he had pretty impressive muscles. Helios darted his eyes down to himself. He was neither tall nor buff, in fact, standing next to Auguste made his lack of built arms too prominent for his liking. What if this strange man was trying to abduct him? Now that would make a lot more sense.

Helios looked around the place, trying to spot anything that could help. There she was. His sister, Carmentis. His eyes lit up, a genuine smile returning to his lips. “I hope you will not mind a quick detour before we part from here,” Helios nodded his head towards the girl. “Care to say hello to my dear sibling with me?” Helios held out his arm to Auguste as he did for all the maidens he walked with at night. Which sounded creepy, but he simply helped them get home safely. He didn’t think about how silly it would look to others, linking arms with a giant, but he didn’t give it time to soak in. It was simply an option to take, and either way, Helios was making his way over to his sister. This should solve their problems. If either of them did any kidnapping, they’d leave behind a witness.

“Carmentis!”

PRINCE HELIOS

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Gao]

CESARE SANTINO

MOOD.

CALM CALM CALM CALM CA aAAAAAAAA QUICKSANDDN?? ?? ?

OUTFIT.

TAGS.

N nios (Lorelei)

Revenant letters clawed to tongue, not even the exorcism of time could extricate history from the Santino name. Calcified to body and heart, a dynasty of sanguine dregs and liquid fire. Crystallised rage born entirely out of myth, hot resin perfidy congealed into cold amber-glass.

An allegory resigning his ascendant calm, bearing not a crown of violence but one of soft petals, heart-torn not war-torn, and stressed, stressed, stressed.

One does not know exhaustion till having to wrangle a pair of Bruwyth royals. Snatching them by the scruff of the neck before early injury: Don’t eat that strange-looking plant, spit it out right now, I said spit it out!— Drop the pile of mud, don’t you dare throw it at me, put your clothes back on, please get out of the water before you catch your death, no, I’m not getting into the river with you, and no, it’s not a knight’s duty to go swimming.

Cesare was certain worry would be the leading contributor to his own pitiful end.

Sequestered away to Solstice for the festival, Santino’s already shot nerves had been riddled with burning daylight. Strangers, danger. Unknown place, danger. Not many cows, danger. A new environment milling with Aphrodite's rose-thorned intent, liars and romantics alike. Pursuing his own path of companionship was a thought too dangerous to let linger and permeate, a stained vision, vinous distraction, that would interfere with a passion to work, to serve. To ensure the safety of Bruwyth’s future, Cesare’s only interest;

The twins.

Who were currently missing.

Lorelei and Callahan, quick as jet fluid, had slipped beneath his watchful eyes. Nerves splintering against pink tender bone, urgency bled through Cesare’s footsteps as he marshalled through Solstice hallways. A small, smooth rock rolled in hand clinked against ring bands, fidgeting between fingers in search of answers.

A stiff head-nod in acknowledgment of those he passed, polite, whilst his brain whirred with panic: Please don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don't talk to me— How long is holding eye contact considered awkward? Three seconds? Four? Five? Five and a half? Was it more awkward to ignore them altogether?

No, he rationalised as he rounded another sharp corner, that’d be rude.

With the whereabouts of Bruwyth royalty unknown, it seemed he’d have to turn his search elsewhere: asking someone. Cesare would never forgive the twins for forcing him into such a terrible predicament. Taking a deep inhale to flare lungs with calming air, attention turned to a nearby group of mingling servants in the form of an abrupt step.

“Hey-”

They took one look, froze, then scuttled like roaches from flame. Uttering apologies and frantic head-bows in their abscond, Cesare was left alone, stood awkwardly, eyes shadowed and lips parted in mumbled confusion.

“I didn’t… I didn’t even say anything.”

Never mind his futile gathering of information, anxious hunting brought the knight back outside for the third time this morning. Trying to harbour some essence of: 'definitely not uncomfortable' whilst idling in the Solstice gardens, he kept distance and attention away from those already arrived to mingle.

A crash of sea-shore to rocky spires, relief coated his skin finally seeing a familiar cloud of tulle. Sea-foam soft and gentle as the flower nursed in her hair, the sight of Lorelei unravelled taut twine in his chest to pull him in her direction. She, who had shown him the merits of being truly known, She, who had grown flowers from the graveyard hollows in his chest, She, unable to unearthed from heart and mind.

“You’re wearing shoes.” Observing and mild-voiced, in the relief he’d forgotten the scolding spiel he’d been stewing over like hot salty brine for the past hour. “But my lady, where is your parasol?” Albeit one Bruwyth found, a bothersome notch remained pressed to skin. Onyx eyes distracted to sweeping the garden in search of her counterpart.

“Prince Callahan, he…” Cesare looked back to Lorelei, brows pinched and building tension working away in his jaw, “he is not with you?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no no.

Highly-strung, the mere inkling that the prince could be in peril was plinking a symphony of paranoia.

“What if he has fallen in a hole? Or- Or quicksand?–” horror settled at its mention, passing thought now plaguing the mind in fixed panic. “Does… Does Solstice have quicksand? They might have quicksand. Should I ask? I feel like I should ask, I’ve heard quicksand is very dangerous. Deadly, in fact.”

The idea of collecting a search-party was growing in appeal by the minute, if not for the next path of Cesare’s sudden assumptions.

“What if he’s been kidnapped? Murdered? These people, Lorelei,” he hushed, “I don’t trust them. Just look at that one.” He motioned discreetly at a nearby guest, “probably plotting something, very scheming eyes.”

BRUWYTH KNIGHT

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.