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welcome to the in-character thread! [ photo credit ]​
please do not have any out-of-character chatter in this thread to avoid any "clogging". reminder: all post must be a minimum of two paragraphs in length! details, details, details! however, i do understand that there may be some moments in which the roleplay may not require the minimum paragraph length. at the top of each and every post, please make sure to have: your character name, location, and interactions (please tag the user you're interacting with so that they can be notified). please don't "quote" a person's reply, instead reply and tag said person! last but not least, please watch this thread!
 
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Genesis: The Festival
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T
he stillness of the morning dew surpassed the realm as the sun slowly rose from its slumber. A family of robin red breast fledglings were ready to leave their nest, following in suit of their mother. Small little chirps could be heard as it echoed around the Capitol, it was loud and clear from above. Mother Nature seemed to have been in a wonderful mood recently for the past year as the crops were well harvested and the plants were well-tended on. There were a surplus of agriculture and animals to feast on for not only the people, but for the King of King's important guest: the royal candidates. The Capitol made sure to put their best foot forward as they made the proper arrangements on picking and choosing royal guards and the soldiers that would keep watch of the festival as well as keeping the people in check. Not only were the guards carefully chosen, but the greeters as well. Greeters have the one of the most important roles as they are in charge of making good first impressions for the nobles of the other kingdoms and those the nobles wished to bring. Oh, what a time to be alive to know that every kingdom would be in attendance at the festival!

Soon, it was time to begin. The people of Imperium Renata were beginning to wake up and start the eventful day - the bakers were opening their windows, letting the smell of fresh baked bread permeate throughout the Capitol and the market stalls were beginning to open up, adding little flairs of their own ornaments and decorations to attract customers. Different lanterns hung from each building as well as flags that represented their corresponding kingdom. Each and every kingdom were praised along with their respective ruler. The people of Imperium Renata were beyond estatic for the celebration of the recent past peaceful 40 year reign of their King of Kings: King Caesar. It was a cause for celebration and better yet, business would be booming far better than ever! Festivals were always the greatest events of the months. Preparations had already begun early two years in advanced to ensue a successful commemoration! As the bustling capitol started to become much more lively, carriages, fleets, and ships started to arrive in Imperium Renata. The royal candidates were always the ones treated with much more favoritism as they were guided towards the Palace and were doted on by the greeters and royal guards.

Although Imperium Renata was quite festive was outside in the Capitol, the Palace was quite a sight to see! Expensive silk draped on every window, expensive fine art were used for utilities such as dining and other usage, original paintings hung on the walls of each room, surplus of flowers and plants filled the gardens, the ballroom housed a variety of beautiful hand-made instruments and classical artwork, and so much more rooms and places to explore that it would take decades to remember the layout of the Palace! Nevertheless, the whole Palace was open for the royal candidates to explore and for them to come to and fro the Capitol.

However, of course, since the Festival is a week long event, the Capitol held much more freedom and excitement. Music could be heard echoing through the stone, cobbled marbled streets of the Capitol. Some adults were dancing their native folklore dances, children were playing and laughing in the streets, and the whole festival was filled with good-heartedness, as if nothing could ever go wrong during such a joyous occasion. At certain booths, stories were told to children, using puppets, or oral-speaking, Story-teller that traveled often would tell of legends and folklore surrounding Imperium Renata or even other Kingdoms. Nevertheless, through this seven day festival, the people and their nobles were united and it was only then, during such events, that perhaps, even the smallest amount of hope could be seen of equality and humanity left in the world. Imperium Renata's main goal of such festival is to remind others that such ideals can happen, if one truly believes in it.

So now that you have arrived at the festival, what do you think of the festival? How did your majesties and their servants arrive? How do you feel about it? What emotions are surfacing? Are you touched by such a pleasant scene or would you not enjoy the atmosphere? What will you be doing during your down time? Will you cause trouble? Or will you find alliances and make allies or perhaps even enemies? The choice is yours, especially in Imperium Renata.

 
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Sjoni Basara and Ozymandias Basara
Knowledge may be terrible but we can only prefer it to ignorance. Light may be terrible but we can only prefer it to the dark.​

  • c67e10ad9558f2da1a645385f6749b16--ezra-miller-handsome-boys.jpg

    The sailing from Cyprus to the Capital was dangerously silent. There were few words exchanged between Sjoni and his “beloved” brother. The two weren’t known for being on good terms and usually they are willing to kill one another if it was what was called for, as it was with most families in Cyprus. A country in mourning that called for his head at his back and an unknown city laid out before him, the Arch Patron couldn’t catch his breath, not yet. However, as it all came into view, Sjoni realized he could finally breathe as their simple ship docked at the massive city.

    Sjoni’s green eyes glitter with life as he moves towards the side of the ship, trying to see the entire city at once. He basks in the warm colors and vibrant sounds. His country was still in mourning over their lost Arch Matron and would be for some time. To see a city filled with life is rejuvenating to him, and he feared no knives at his back. He hears a few sweeping steps come up behind him and something press up against the small of his back. A knife. Of course. Oz wouldn’t come to see me unarmed. He turns his head a bit to look at his brother, though brother implied a level of camaraderie between them.

    “What is it now? You are threatening my life so far from home that there would be no reward.” Sjoni chuffs, almost bored by his brother’s threats. He shouldn’t need to find fear in them, not anymore. Here, Ozymandias was a guard and not an assassin. He made sure of that. Green eyes meet piercing silver.

    “You won’t embarrass our home, correct? You will act as if you have your matron waiting for you at home and you will not make a fool of yourself or our country. If you do, you won’t see the shores of home and we will let Fyrah deal with you herself. Do you understand me or do I need to be more clear?” Oz snorts quietly, pressing the knife harder against his brother’s back, threatening to cut the fabric. Sjoni nods simply and takes a step away from Oz, knowing better than to say anything. He knew about the game Oz was playing and he was unafraid to use it in his favor. For now, they would enjoy the festival apart as that was all he needed to worry about. He was here for himself and his countrymen and they were to be his main priority.

    ---

    Bustling with life, the city amazes Sjoni. So many wonderful aspects filling his senses -- Vibrant colors, exciting sounds and smells that lured him into exploration. He sees the lively folklores being told of all the other countries but figured his homelands weren’t among them. Their tales were told to children when they were older, wouldn’t ask very many questions about it. He believed it would be for the best to keep it that way, if any outside of his nation knew Cyprus’ folklore to begin with. Seeing other representations of his homelands did bring him an odd level of pride, seeing that they were represented at all brings him so much excitement. Maybe there could be hope for alliances to form with other nations. As far as he knew, they kept to themselves on the little island, only keeping up with merchants that stopped in their docks.

    Sjoni knows he could wander around for hours here. He finally could breathe and feel at ease as his face wasn’t what made him Arch Patron it was the piwafwi he carried around his neck and for now? He couldn’t feel its weight as no one knows who he is.



    *piwafwi - a small coin sized token made of wound silver wire, small rubies, sapphires and amythests and small black beads that signifies the house and the placement of the child within it. Usually in a small leather pouch around their neck and hidden under layers of clothing.

 
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WILHELMINA X DE VRIES

If you were to ask Wilhelmina De Vries what her first impression was of Imperium Renata as she stepped off of the royal ship and onto the port, she would say that the vibrant and open kingdom reminded her of Deventer.

If you asked her once more after she has had the chance to tour the kingdom and partake in it's festivities, Mina would take back what she said about Imperium Renata. The decorated streets, the busy crowds, the buzzing atmosphere- it was all a vast contrast to the simplicity that her own kingdom had to offer. Though, as she currently walked down a particular crowded street heading towards the Capitol, Mina found that she didn't mind the larger population and the high energy.

"Goodness, did you see that poor boy fall onto that stand?" Fleur, Mina's lady-in-waiting and close friend, cut in as she gestured a few feet ahead of them. It wasn't difficult to tell that the blonde was trying to hide her laughter behind her hand as the boy got up and quickly ran off. "Hopefully the vendor won't be too distasteful when he comes back to find all of his pastries are scattered on the ground."

Wilhelmina offered an amused smile as she unfolded her arms from behind her back and crossed them across her chest as the duo exited the street into a courtyard. Earlier that morning, the princess had decided that she wanted to explore the kingdom herself. Go and meet people who wanted to talk to her without a group of knights behind her back the entire time. Of course, the guards of Deventer were hesitant to oblige with her offer, but after Fleur decided that she would be joining Mina on her small adventure, the men reluctantly allowed them to walk to the Capitol. Satisfied with the arrangement, Mina had put on a more muted and modest outfit then what she had on when she first arrived to Imperium Renata. Rich in color and high in quality, it was still obvious that the dress the princess wore was fit for higher class. She had slicked her hair back in a tight ponytail to match, keeping her face bare of any rouge due to the weather and allowing herself to simply enjoy her day.

Deep hues of amber and gold reflected from silk that hung from the center of the courtyard, catching Mina's attention as she admired the view around her. This kingdom was certainly something that deserved to be talked about. Even in her young childhood, Imperium Reneta was always the kingdom her father had waxed poetic about, his desire to have Deventer grow to one day be as grand as Reneta portrayed in his words and actions. Mina had only had the opportunity to visit the kingdom twice when she was younger, but now she was here and in full view of the castle, the princess couldn't help but slow to a stop at the sight of the towering architecture standing high a handful of yards away.

A look of awe crossed Mina's face, and she let her arms once more drop at her side. "It is no wonder that this kingdom has such high influence on the world," Mina stated with a quiet voice, glancing over at Fleur as they stood in the center of the courtyard. Off in the distance, a child playing a simple flute could be heard cutting through the moment, but it didn't bother the princess in the slightest as she continued to speak, "A world that will look like this, dear Fleur, will certainly be a wonderful place."

Fleur only hummed in agreement, seemingly occupied with a colorful fruit stand that took up the majority of the courtyard. Mina huffed in amusement and turned away from the castle, curiously eyeing the pile of fresh apples situated on the side.

The blonde plucked an apple from the top of the pile and tossed it to Mina, happily paying the woman behind the stand with a generous amount of coin after she had grabbed a vast assortment of different fruits as Mina raised her eyebrows.

"It's a festival," Fleur said simply as she stuffed her face with a sweet peach, "you're supposed to eat until you can't walk."

As Mina took her own bite of apple, she found that she couldn't agree more with that statement.

mood: in awe, excited
outfit: dress
interaction: N/A, open



coding by: diaphanous


If you were to ask Wilhelmina De Vries what her first impression was of Imperium Renata as she stepped off of the royal ship and onto the port, she would say that the vibrant and open kingdom reminded her of Deventer.

If you asked her once more after she has had the chance to tour the kingdom and partake in it's festivities, Mina would take back what she said about Imperium Renata. The decorated streets, the busy crowds, the buzzing atmosphere- it was all a vast contrast to the simplicity that her own kingdom had to offer. Though, as she currently walked down a particular crowded street heading towards the Capitol, Mina found that she didn't mind the larger population and the high energy.

"Goodness, did you see that poor boy fall onto that stand?" Fleur, Mina's lady-in-waiting and close friend, cut in as she gestured a few feet ahead of them. It wasn't difficult to tell that the blonde was trying to hide her laughter behind her hand as the boy got up and quickly ran off. "Hopefully the vendor won't be too distasteful when he comes back to find all of his pastries are scattered on the ground."

Wilhelmina offered an amused smile as she unfolded her arms from behind her back and crossed them across her chest as the duo exited the street into a courtyard. Earlier that morning, the princess had decided that she wanted to explore the kingdom herself. Go and meet people who wanted to talk to her without a group of knights behind her back the entire time. Of course, the guards of Deventer were hesitant to oblige with her offer, but after Fleur decided that she would be joining Mina on her small adventure, the men reluctantly allowed them to walk to the Capitol. Satisfied with the arrangement, Mina had put on a more muted and modest outfit then what she had on when she first arrived to Imperium Renata. Rich in color and high in quality, it was still obvious that the dress the princess wore was fit for higher class. She had slicked her hair back in a tight ponytail to match, keeping her face bare of any rouge due to the weather and allowing herself to simply enjoy her day.

Deep hues of amber and gold reflected from silk that hung from the center of the courtyard, catching Mina's attention as she admired the view around her. This kingdom was certainly something that deserved to be talked about. Even in her young childhood, Imperium Reneta was always the kingdom her father had waxed poetic about, his desire to have Deventer grow to one day be as grand as Reneta portrayed in his words and actions. Mina had only had the opportunity to visit the kingdom twice when she was younger, but now she was here and in full view of the castle, the princess couldn't help but slow to a stop at the sight of the towering architecture standing high a handful of yards away.

A look of awe crossed Mina's face, and she let her arms once more drop at her side. "It is no wonder that this kingdom has such high influence on the world," Mina stated with a quiet voice, glancing over at Fleur as they stood in the center of the courtyard. Off in the distance, a child playing a simple flute could be heard cutting through the moment, but it didn't bother the princess in the slightest as she continued to speak, "A world that will look like this, dear Fleur, will certainly be a wonderful place."

Fleur only hummed in agreement, seemingly occupied with a colorful fruit stand that took up the majority of the courtyard. Mina huffed in amusement and turned away from the castle, curiously eyeing the pile of fresh apples situated on the side.

The blonde plucked an apple from the top of the pile and tossed it to Mina, happily paying the woman behind the stand with a generous amount of coin after she had grabbed a vast assortment of different fruits as Mina raised her eyebrows.

"It's a festival," Fleur said simply as she stuffed her face with a sweet peach, "you're supposed to eat until you can't walk."

As Mina took her own bite of apple, she found that she couldn't agree more with that statement.
 
Ibrahim Said
I'm bad at bbcode, ok??
Party City​
Ibrahim was perhaps the most disappointing nobleman south of the Imperium Renata. He was never lacking in knick-knacks and do-dods to distract him, but what he did miss was a good party. It had been around two months since he'd had an absolute ball. Two months without glitz and glamour. Two months without feasting and dancing. Two whole months where he had simply sat in his carriage, waiting for something exciting to happen. Of course, nothing had happened. A few of the attendants to the caravan had disappeared, presumably dead or lost in some far off village in the desert, but outside of a short search accompanied by customary mourning, nothing had changed beyond waking up, eating, reading, eating again, reading more, then eating before going to sleep. The young prince was about fed up with this journey. Although, he did have the mandatory gold stores, and according to Faisil, his personal attendant, they would be in a small unnamed town within the hour. After processing that information, an idea began to take form in Ibrahim's princely head. What if he had a party in the town? After reviewing the idea with his greatest confidant, his mirror, Ibrahim was determined to host the most extravagant party known to the town.

When they arrived, Ibrahim had already paid anyone who may object in his entourage enough to ignore his revelry. All that was left was to paint the town gold. In order to get somewhat close to that, he simply settled for "borrowing" the town hall. Ibrahim and his six most trusted guards marched to the doors of the vaulted town hall, in all it's glory, and thrust the doors open. Expecting something more than was there, Ibrahim looked like- well, he looked like an entitled prince from a rich kingdom who wanted to party. At least his intentions were clear.
"Now tell me good sir, what would it cost to acquire this building for a night?" He asked the first man who made eye contact with him. Although a proper response was not uttered, the prince inferred all he needed to know, and motioned for his guards to bring in a smaller chest of jewelry and coins. Upon receiving the gift, the men present cleared from the building, and left Ibrahim to his devices.

Under his guidance, the town would be turned into one giant festival. Locals were paid exorbitant sums to help provide for the young prince's night on the town. Dancers, performers, and musicians made a ruckus that nobody could ignore. Either by choice or curiosity, it was nearly impossible to find a house with anyone sleeping in it, even late into the night. From the hall he commandeering, Ibrahim led the local elders in rounds of songs, assisted by a copious sum of alcohol. Of course, the night was not without it's issues. Ibrahim's carriage was robbed, and his second favorite book on the flora of the western Jalani territories was taken. However, with all the memories he had made the night before it was hard to be troubled with such trivialities.[

Over the next month, Ibrahim would leave a trail of functions and events behind him, and dissipating into the morning mist like an inebriated nobleman with too much spare time and not enough things to do. He would arrive in the Renata proud, and relatively less wealthy, but it was nothing. His father would be sending more gold later if it became an issue. Smile as he may, it would be if Ibrahim kept things up at this rate...
 
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[class=Notes] //So this is an older code that I tried to fix up to look nicer// //Forward slashes are comments // //and do no show up in the final design,// //these are to help you find everything easily// //and explain some code as well // //These comments must be with in a class or script tags// // in order to be hidden, from what I know. // //Long URls are images// //# followed by letter and numbers are Hex codes// //or color codes// //this code does not show breaks unless is shows the
code. // // when typing responses to rps, be aware that when you press ente// // it will not show that you did. you'll have to use the
tags// [/class]
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KONRAD
[class=Notes] //the transparent with background and the border and below is the text// [/class]
The Imperium Renata was not a place Konrad ever imagined he would visit. He often though of travelling, having spent most of his early life sequestered in his family's manor, only escaping through the books in his father's library. Quite frankly, he expected he could live his entire life at home without ever once stepping outside the castle grounds, but expectations were like hurdles on the road. It was better to keep them high and then get a running start.

Konrad twisted up in his seat to crane his head outside the carriage, gasping as he tried to smile and gape at the same time. After six months in Falkenstadt, he thought he knew what a great city would look like, but this... this was something more than what he would have imagined.The Imperium was an enormous old city built up by enormous old stones. Outside the great wall, buildings clustered as if every town he'd passed through were gathered and smushed together, side-by-side. Winehouses and hostelries, warehouses and granaries, whorehouses and bakeries, all piled upon one another. And the wall itself, a sheer fifty-foot height of pale gray stone, streaked with silver and white, swept out across the earth, stretching north and south til they vanished into the horizon. All along its length, slender spires rose high above the wall's own height with brilliant banners whipping in the wind atop each one. The carriage rolled down the wide road toward the city, toward gates flanked by guards in bright red tabards, burnished plate, and expressions of rapt attention as they watched the incomers pass.

"What did I tell you?” Herr Franz sat quietly in the seat across from his, back straight with all the poise and dignity a Kaiser should have. “The grandest city in the world. Built by the ancients, you know. At least, the inner city and the Palace were. It's that old, this city. The Capitol, where good King Caesar, the Gods illumine Him, makes the law and holds the peace for the world. It's the greatest city on earth.” Konrad was inclined to agree, and he sat back in his seat to take it all in. The city was proving intoxicatingly rich with strange people, sights, and -- unfortunately -- scents. At Schloss Altenhof, Konrad was accustomed to the smell of crisp mountain air and cool pine forests, but try as he might, he could never find anything clean in city air. Each alleyway held the spicy scents of street vendors and their foods, but was perpetually juxtaposed with something even more nauseating. Fortunately, their driver turned into one of the major roadways, and the stenches abated, though it did slow them as they had to contend with thicker traffic.

Foot traffic seemed to be streaming in the same direction, both locals and outlanders waving pennants and banners for the celebration. Konrad gawked at those who passed his carriage. Those women with bright silks and rings in their noses were from Crucea, he wagered, and those guards with dark silk coats that buttoned down the sides of the chest were from Tian Xia. But who were those men in stately white robes? Or those men with beards so thick that they were braided several times over? "So," said Franz, half-shouting to be heard over the din. "What do you think of the city so far?" Konrad brought pensive hand to his chin. "I think it's a long way from home." he said slowly, bringing a sharp snort from his cousin. "I know the feeling. It's a little stunning when you see it all for the first time." Franz said quietly.

Yeah

The crowd thinned as they entered the upper quarter of the city, and eventually the carriage rolled to a stop at a massive building at the very top of the city. Walls painted white, its broad gilded doors opened into a huge oval plaza before the palace proper, where women in bright dresses and men in stark suits intermingled. "We're here." Franz said curtly, throwing open the carriage door. "Head on inside, Konrad. You wouldn't want these people to catch you gawking." Konrad shot him a glare he couldn't see, but did as he was told. Franz surrendered the carriage to the footmen and took his place a few steps ahead of his ward. The Kaiser wore clothes finer than his standard fare, though he still maintained the military-style Tydish coat and the stiff trousers. As always, he carried a dueling sword at his waist, the belt wrapping around his knee-length coat. "Onward." Franz urged. "We have people waiting for us, you know."

(music)

[class=Notes] //Below is the purple box and the content meant for tags// [/class]
Interacting: N/A
Located: Imperium Renata
Mentioned: N/A
code by AgWordSmith AgWordSmith
 
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Príncipe Luís Manuel x Infanta Laura Francisca
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If there was anything that the Portugals were known for, it was their style and their beauty. Of course, many royals were known for the radiance but the Portugals were absolutely gorgeous. They glowed. Perhaps it was due to the amount of time they spent outdoors and generally surrounded by the sunlight. They, well, practically glowed.

Nonetheless, they were ideal to look at if you cared about their physical appearance. Mentally and personality-wise, they're also very well-liked. Principe Luís Manuel and Infanta Laura Francisca were basically the same person, though one was a young woman. Luís had allowed his sister to accompany him on his journey to Imperium Renata. He was, put simply, a candidate. It was a King of Kings thing. Luís would never be one to care much for the detail of the situation and therefore, this will lack some.

Portugal was a country surrounded by land and water nearly equally. Though they only used land travel if they, for some reason, had the need to go to Spain. Otherwise they chose to travel primarily by water. Regardless, here the practically glowing siblings were, stood on the deck of their large ship. There was the crew, picked directly by Infanta Laura, those in who she trusted by knowing their work from her time spent on the docks. The two guards and servants had been handpicked by Príncipe Luís. The one decision Luís was beginning to regret was allowing his sister onboard in the first place. The young brunet stood at the railing, looking overboard at the blue waves. Fun fact: a monkey sat on his right shoulder, a small monkey, not something as large as an ape. That'd be impossible.

Luís paid no attention to his surroundings other than the rushing waves until he heard his sister's voice behind him. "You know, I'll never be able to fathom why anyone would trust you as a ruler. You're not as smart as you appear, Luís." Laura. She was beautiful, more beautiful than Luís some would say. He would easily disagree with anyone who made such a claim.

Turning to his younger sibling, a girl nearly his twin, the prince's lips turned up into a smile. "Me desculpe minha querida, mas.." Luís paused as he stared down at his sister. "Como você está muito melhor?" (I'm sorry my dear, but, how are you much better?).

Luís' comment only resulted in a punch of the arm, followed by his own cocky laughter.

"You look a fool with a monkey on your shoulder." Laura remarked a mere few moments later. It was clear that despite what the siblings said to each other, they were still very loving. The two's teases were matched with laughter and smiles. They were happy even if their comments made you think otherwise. They were both elegant and beautiful in their own different ways, especially with their bright smiles.

It wasn't long before they'd been guided off of the ship, they had arrived at their final destination. From point A to point B. Portugal to Imperium Renata.

Several servants behind them carried their belongings, being directed to have the items safely delivered to the castle itself. It was a castle, correct? That's what the Portugals were used to. The pair walked down the pathway in short strides, moving farther from the docks as they did so. Laura was dressed in an elegant black dressed, adorned with a rather traditional design of the country while Luís had gone with something more suited for his position and authority. A cape, red and gold, fashionable and 'glamorous'. He was best known for showing off his rank even though for once he had no medals to decorate his body.

"Do you suppose the people here will be falling at our knees?" The young prince asked curiously, taking a quick look to his sister as they stopped to look around. The area was beautiful, truly beautiful.

"Well we are known best for our looks, are we not? We're the infamous Portugals, brother." Laura snorted, a cocky grin on her lips as she stopped beside him.

"Sua Alteza Real, Príncipe Luís Manuel, Duque de Portugal, Casa de Aviz e Algarves e Sua Alteza Real, Infanta Laura Francisca, Princesa das Beiras de Portugal," Announced their guard behind them. That's how important they were.

If anything, the pair would make this trip even more interesting. Especially since they had a monkey named Reginald, Reggie for short. They stuck out like sore thumbs.

location: imperium renata docks | mentions: | interactions: | Luís' Outfit: xxx | Laura's outfit: xxx

"Your Royal Highness', The Portugals"
codedbymeraki.
 
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Sjoni Basara and Ozymandias Basara
The past was a fiction and consequences were a choice.​
Mentions: Portugal ( WhispFlick WhispFlick )|Location: Imperium Renata

  • tumblr_inline_ohou9fmwIP1sv2yip_400.gif


    During his time in the castle during the festival, Sjoni had heard plenty of impressive titles. None had really caught his attention until today. "Sua Alteza Real, Príncipe Luís Manuel, Duque de Portugal, Casa de Aviz e Algarves e Sua Alteza Real, Infanta Laura Francisca, Princesa das Beiras de Portugal." The guard announced. Sjoni lifts his gaze to see who donned such lengthy titles. He couldn’t help but think about the weight of his own titles. They didn’t mean much outside of Cyprus but to carry them at all? That could cause some strain in the shoulders. Did they feel the weight their titles carried or had it been easy to ignore? Sjoni couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He attempts to ignore the ever lengthening title that nags in the back of his mind. Arch Patron Sjoni Basara of House Basara, Weapons’ Master, First Son of Arch Matron Asianne Intisara, Matron of the First House of Örümcek-ağı. His thoughts linger on the full weight of his title.

    Thinking back to his household took some getting used to. He hadn’t really been there long enough to be able to call it home but he could certainly try. He wasn’t born with much of a title but the piwafwi made it easy for him to remember who he had to be. There were others who should take his place as the leader of the house but they felt just as far away as he did. Sjoni knows that he can’t go back, not now that there is a target on him. What could his nation do if he never went back? If Oz became Arch Patron?

    Sjoni shakes his head, forcing himself to come back into the moment and to not return back to that thought. Not alone. He stands and starts to return to the streets before his gaze falls on the Portuguese nobility. They were as beautiful as the rumors had told him. Oz’s reports, however, couldn’t do them justice. Oz had left out the details that would draw his brother’s eye. Fyrah forgive Sjoni for the jumble of thoughts that might out the Arch Patron’s desires. Could he find love in this place or would Oz’s knife find its mark in his back before then?

    For once? Sjoni couldn’t be sure.


    Outfit: https://78.media.tumblr.com/ce1b9986720eac9b220d7714c847c570/tumblr_nt796yU9g41tbn8kqo4_1280.jpg
 
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Harrison "Harry" Mac Brádaigh
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In that close, sunken dimness, Harry fumed. No harsh word would shake the all too familiar floral scent that cloyingly clung to the back of his throat. Beneath it was the polished wood, the rot, the heavy, smarmy, taste of the sea. The salt in his skin seemed to itch - wretched and miserable beneath a dark brow.

There would be no respite, no refuge, save for in the low cabins where he tended to the few horses. Even then, the ship shuddered and jolted. He would take a deep breath through his crooked teeth, and exude what calm he could in order to soothe the animals, his heavy hands on their heads.

Harry was no seafarer. He was built for open meadows, rolling expanse of green with the brisk, unforgiving wind at his back. Built for craggy, worn hills and shores, but not the tumultuous deep beyond. The moment he had set foot on the royal vessel, he had felt the sick stirring in his gut. It was a cruel, almost ironic, happenstance. He had thought it would be no different than taking the reigns of a horse, but this was an altogether different beast. It was not warm and predictably finicky beneath him. There was nothing he could foresee or control - a dead false ground beneath his feet. Not blood and bones or even earth, but vastness - and the thin shred of scrap to keep him afloat.

Sleep hadn’t come easy, if it had come at all. He prayed for dry land, even as he despised the thought of their destination. Anything was better than here. With the constant rocking, he could hardly even drown his restlessness in ale. Still, he didn’t say a word of his discomfort aloud, wouldn’t betray this weakness no matter how much he might cut in a hard comment, as even seafaring men did. He hadn’t had the presence of mind to keep himself in order - the unruliness of his wavy dark hair and scruffy facial hair in rare form. Common decency was hard to recall when all he wanted to do was hurl his insides off the side of the damned ship.

What was worse, she was faring better than ever.

He watched her dawdle about in something resembling productivity, but nothing quite that substantial - folding her little, pale hands, bowing her chestnut-auburn head as she smiled that tucked, prim smile that always seemed to suggest it was at someone else’s expense. Sometimes he would catch a slip, a flash of unease in her eyes as the ship jolted and fell with a sway, but she would straighten up just as quickly with what height she possessed, and the darling features of her face would smooth out once more. Insufferably. Enchantingly. Mockingly. Admirably. He would grit his teeth and keep his discomfort buried, not having to look at her to know the curves of her face, but wanting to anyway.

One of her handmaidens would sometimes catch him looking, and depending on his whim, he would fix them with a glare or a wink. The latter was reserved for when he felt in the mood for a row, which was often. The Princess despised when he gave his attention to her servants - one of the quickest routes to slipping under her skin. He figured she didn’t want his hands on anything that belonged to her.

The suffocating days at sea were just the icing on the whole nightmare of a cake. The trip itself was pressing on his nerves. The old wound in his left shoulder was acting up, drawing stiff and aching. He woke from his thin stretches of sleep with a growl and a curse, and all the while their heading weighed like a blade at the bow of his throat. Being dropped into a cesspool of nobles simpering, plotting, and preening falsely was enough, but to have Aine so centrally involved - well, somebody had it out for him. For far from the first time in his life, he cursed his lot.

All the daft chickens in the flock are going to whittle down to one prize hen. Whoop-tee-fucking-doo.

He had considered, briefly, gruffly, what the future would look like if Aine was the one to come out on top in the end. At first he had been almost grudgingly approving. If anyone was going to sit at the peak of the pile and do some good, then she was a fair choice - in his opinion, most likely the fairest. Yet, in that case, all would be changed, and all would be forgotten. Harry’s musings had turned to ash in his mouth. It was enough that the rosy dream of his childhood was going to someday wear a Queen's adornments and never pay him another thought - she didn't have to be Queen of Queens to do it.

Unsurprisingly, even as they reached port, even as there were preparations to be made, the two were bickering relentlessly. There had been little break in between for as long as the voyage had lasted. Close, sweltering quarters didn’t seem to do them good. Every little thing she did seemed to set him aflame, and he couldn’t help but let it all burn down.

She was retorting sharply, some ugly comment that still managed to sound proper and right out of her mouth. He was being pummeled by the heat in her eyes, the flush in her face, and the agitated swaying of her curtain of hair, though he didn’t look it. His jaw set hard, crossing his arms over his chest. He rolled his eyes, looking away from her at the wood grain to his side.

“Och, alright, alright, Princess, I understand right enough. You’ve got a big vocabulary and a mouth to match.” His thick, edged accent rolled mockingly, a new-found smugness to his gaze as it found her again, though it was somewhat spiritless in feeling. He didn't quite have it in him to argue with his usual level of earnestness. Black exhaustion and hopelessness dug at the crook of his spine, but he wouldn't let it pervade him. Giving up was the last thing Harry was capable of.

He couldn’t even remember how the row had started, but it didn’t matter much.

The ship was smoothing slow to a halt, attendants already fit to board. He could hear the sounds of the blasted city already, gearing up for celebrations, and it did little to quell his temper. He couldn’t even think to be glad of solid ground yet, and it would be so until hours after being rid of the vessel.

interacting with: deer deer ​


codedby@meraki.
 
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[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header] SAS Victor Amadeus IV
Mood: Neutral | Location: Imperial Palace | Mentions: N/A
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And So it Goes...
L'empire, longtemps divisé, doivent s'unir ; long united, doit diviser.
The Empress Of Fire (Music)​


Awe, awe is quite an emotion. Most, if not all of us have felt it at some point in our lives whether it be while staring at the sunset edge itself past the horizon, or while atop a mountain looking down at God's little creatures. Victor, however, was not one to be awed by nature; it was the wide roads, the domed bridges, the grand towers stacked of granite and the massive cathedrals built high enough to reach heaven itself that took his breath away. To him, man and all his creation were what was truly deserving of our admiration. To him, and any men such as him then, the Capitol would be akin to paradise on earth.

Ever since he'd set foot on the wooden harbor he'd begun taking notes on that little red book of his that he'd carry about with him at all times, He'd take down specifications for the arches, the domes, the courtyards and columns nothing was too small for him to not notice. At his back would be an honor guard of about twenty soldiers who were now re-assigned to ensure the man's safety as he passed through the city taking in all of its wonders. The rest of his entourage would be going on forward in the carriage along with all of the luggage befitting a king. It was a scene of much spectacle, crowds of men and women gathered as Victor went about his little tour visiting bakeries, taverns and grocers sampling all they had to offer. He was sure they'd all tire of him after a bit, they'd surely see that he was not that interesting, but no. From Harbor to Plaza, a procession of people accompanied him, some even waving the Arlesian coat-of-arms and bellowing the words "Ab ira Leonis" ; Beware, of the lion's anger.

Imagine the surprise of the watchers on the walls as they spot what looks like an entire city making its way to the imperial palace, with a seemingly oblivious Victor at its head. It was quite a spectacle actually, jugglers and acrobats had joined up in hopes of earning a quick buck ; some vendors decided to carry their wears by hand to hopefully sell to the crowd and some others even brought their animals with them like the farmer who was getting his wheat to another part of the city on the back of his bullock-cart. All of this was probably something not very appreciated by the nobles in the upper quarter.

The crowd was probably as amazed as he was, to see the towering structure from up close with its white marble exterior a promise of wealth and opulence. As the gates opened a legion of guards came through, to escort the young scion. It would seem this was the end of the line for the welcome party, he'd bid them adieu with nothing but a simple wave as the massive doors closed upon their gawking faces.

"Son altesse sérénissime le très puissant et très excellent Roi Victor Amadeus IV La Tour de Pil, Roi d'Arles et Vévai, Duc de Loys, Comte d'Annecy et les terres adjacentes." someone announced, as Victor entered the grounds. Although his little adventure in the city was short, he'd content himself with knowing that he'd caught the people's attention.


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[div class=fyuri11credit]code/design by Fable Fable [/div]​
 
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442799bd78999f141247463866da45de.png
location: sketchy streets of Imperium Renata - the Palace
scenario: do you believe in good or bad fortune?
interactions: Kaiser Franz and Konrad
mentions: Ibrahim Said , Ozymandis Basara
tags: Abendrot Abendrot , BLK BLK , Jordan Brinkman Jordan Brinkman
Hooves trotted against the cobbled stoned grounds of the village as the wheels of a well-kept wagon slowly passed the quieter side of the city of Imperium Renata. The sound of festivities drowned out in the smaller, narrower section of the city, far away from prying eyes. Various footsteps could be heard as small twinkling sounds of jewelry clinked` together in conundrum as it announced the arrival of the Morissettes. Garbed in many colorful fine silk from one female to the next, differentiating each female, a small silk cloth covered most of their face but eyes, giving off an air of mystique and allure. The stalls that were open gave way to many unique items as the smell of freshly baked bread filled the air. From time to time, there were some passerbys who stopped to stare, but most of the scattered villagers seemed spooked, if not slightly curious as they raised questionable gazes of the arrival of women who were not fully clothed. The travelers came together, never veering far away from each other, keeping to themselves as they made their way to the Palace.

However, one young dancer found her eyes scanning the area, finding peculiar interest in the merchants and street vendors despite being watched like a hawk by her own mother and sisters. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, sighing wistfully, “The harder you stare, the more you’ll drill a hole in the back of my head." She started in a singy-song voice, amused yet annoyed by being treated like a ticking bomb. "And I’m sure you don’t wait to pay for more silk.” The young woman cheekily said, turning her head to look at the older woman, winking at her.

With furrowed brows, the older woman clicked her tongue, reaching over to pull her youngest daughter's hair, yanking it as she scolded her, "That mouth is what got you in trouble in the first place, young lady. Straighten up. Cause a mess and it's off with you." The older woman sternly voiced, leaving no room for discussion as she cleared her throat, carrying on with intensity.

The face of a woman who has seen much, the older woman Bixenta Bakarne didn't have time to pay mind to her daughter's antics. She was a woman of her word, proud and strong-willed. Quite the businesswoman, the older woman can easily persuade others to buy their trinkets varying from jewelry to talisman that was said to brought good luck. Nevertheless, no one would turn a blind eye towards the face of the woman that showed much wisdom. With rarely any grey, Bixenta's feature never showed evidence of her aging as her skin was smooth, free of any wrinkles, despite the forlorn and knowing look in her eyes.

"Ow!" A soft cry exclaimed from the young woman, Daeina Desiree's lips. "Why did you do that for? You know this hair's productivity! Don't ruin the merchandise!" She mockingly said, raising her nose up in the air as she did her best imitation of her mother.

Huffing, Daeina glared at her mother, quickening her pace to get away from her mother's line of eyesight. Irritation was an understatement. Grumbling under her breath with various curse words, Daeina found herself walking next to one of the wagon's horses, muttering indiscreetly. Something along the lines of: That woman will never appreciate what she has. Tough luck! One day you'll regret it.

Not a moment sooner, the sound of a loud boom echoed in the sky as Daeina looked up, furrowing her brows at the random forecast. Still sunny with the birds chirping endlessly in the air, Daeina shook her head wondering if the "Heavens" heard her. Shrugging her shoulders, not really caring for religion, Daeina knew there was a 'higher' entity than humans, but she rarely found herself drawn to the idea of there being 'one' god. Many gods sounds better. Nevertheless, as the group continued on traveling, Daeina's attention went towards one stall as she noticed a mild confrontation between the merchant and what looked to be a rich man (though everyone looks rich to her). She recognised the clothing style but found herself falling back into the rhythm of the horses. Quickly looking away, Daeina looked straight ahead, not wanting to be reminded of her origins and eased the temptation of walking towards the man to ask how was Örümcek-ağı from last she visited.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Daeina sighed as she saw the checking point. Her brows furrowed together as she looked back towards the rest of her company. With her trademark grin, despite not seeing it through her veil, Daeina nonchalantly walked towards her mother. "The place is so . . . uptight." Daeina commented, shaking her arms and legs for emphasis, not liking the vigilance of the place. "It is highly unlikely that I can cause a mess around here with the guards looking as if they have a stick up their asses."

Throwing a look that showed Bixenta had enough of Daeina's crude remarks, Bixenta clicked her tongue as she shook her head showing her distaste. The older woman only has her pride and proudness to make up for what she lacked: riches and a stable home. Bixenta Bakarne was known for being the 'owner' of the magnificent performing group: the Morissettes. Word travelled far and wide of her successes and soon, letters came in asking for the Morisettes' presence, wanting the group to be the main event for various occasions such as entertainment for the nights, festivals, and even anniversaries. Bixenta made a name for herself, valuing trust and common courtesy. She proved to be a successful and had a successful business despite being at the bottom of the social ladder. Despite all odds, Bixenta has seen much but still found herself disapproving of the lack of manners of the encounters of one young prince: His Highness Ibrahim Said. Just remembering such event led a sour taste upon her lips as she remembered her daughter's involvement.

"You have better return what has been taken, Daeina. For years we have built mutual relations and trust with our clients, do not fail me now." Bixenta narrowed her eyes, reprimanding her daughter for her lack of respect and class.

Without waiting for her daughter's retort, Bixenta walked with ease, gracefully heading towards the front of the group. Letter in hand with the wax seal from the King of Kings, Bixenta showed her 'pass' to the guard that would allow them passage through the checkpoint, over the bridge, and into the Palace walls. Various noble families could be seen from miles on end as they presented themselves to the guards. It didn't take Bixenta long to know that the guards were judging her and her company - not believing King Caesar, himself, would invite such an omen into the Palace.

Feeling as if it's been years for the guards to check their belongings, it took all the strength in Daeina to not utter a word or snap at the guards. She impatiently waited for the inspection to be done, hearing whispers all around her as she bit down her lips from retaliating. Sighing loudly, the company was finally moving pass the checking point and across the bridge to the Palace. Daeina's eyes widened in surprise, her head whipping all around as she took in the different colours and magnificent structure of the Palace before her. Whispering to herself, Daeina wondered what it would be like to live in such a magnimous castle the King of Kings was able to stay and live in. She could only imagine so much as her ignorance of the layout of such a place could only be exaggerated in her dreams much less thought up. Although she performed in countless places with her sisters, Daeina took in each and every aspect of the places, committing the experiences to memories for a later date.

Not able to contain her excitement, Daeina squealed as she ran off into the crowd, yells of her sisters calling after her in the background as she took off but she paid no mind. Daeina couldn't wait to feast her eyes on the beauty that was in Imperium Renata. Finally she could tell stories and her adventures in Imperium Renata to others that would give her the time of say. People she may even call 'friends' if they kept in touch with her. However, as she ran bare-foot through the crowds, with childlike innocence, Daeina was only concentrating at the bigger picture at hand and would never imagine she'd literally bump into a noble by tripping over her own silk dress.

Before she knew it, she collided into an older male's back, squeaking loudly as she tried to stop the impact only to trip over. Daeina found herself awkwardly trying to catch the older male before her. Rip! Was the only sound she heard as she gasped loudly, trying to find her balance before awkwardly, positioning herself in the correct position when greeting someone of higher status. Don't make a spectacle of yourself. Curtsying and bowing her head as she quickly started to apologise, Daeina could only wait for the impact from her mother when she finds out what she had done.

"Milord - no, your Highness." She gasped in surprise, assuming his title from his clothing, correcting herself.

Clearing her throat, Daeina kept her head down, speaking once more out of turn,"I humbly ask for your forgiveness. I . . am but only a performer, summoned by His Majesty King Caesar."

With her head down, Daeina's eyes glanced around discreectly, gauging the reaction of those around her as she took a deep breath, racking through her brains for an idea. "If you would allow this servant, I would be honored to tell you your fortune in return for your forgiveness for this incident that I have caused."
codedbymeraki.​
 






Prince Alessandro
​





Ales had risen only moments ago. Stretching like a cat beneath candlelight, drowsy limbs the color of spun caramel. He had pulled a soft, fluid tunic over his torso with listing, but agile cadence. He blinked back sleep, honey-brown eyes wet and seeking. He was looking for something, someone, running his hands over his face and through the shaggy curls that hung over his brow.

What was it he had been dreaming of? He so quickly forgot. His fantasies slipped like water from his open palms, and in them, the memory that lay, warm as a kiss. The sound of the sea moved against his senses, and he might’ve been able to pretend he was home. Waves soft against wood. A lover’s hair brushing against cotton sheets. He hadn’t quite woken yet. The feeling was still there - a trembling, fullness that inhabited his chest.

It was the youthfulness in him that gave way to idleness, as he took his time in waking. Lost in every moment’s sensation, beating back the sallow turn of time. It was still early yet. At the back of his mind, his responsibilities tugged, persistent, but they themselves carried his own loose manner. Still, sharp as a blade, the world rose to meet him. His father was in the other cabin.

Ales stood, steady, taut as a bowstring. The worn, sanded wood was smooth beneath his feet.

The Emperor had been ill for months. His strength had waned and come again as frequent as the tides. Ales had felt the fever on his father’s strong brow, the tremble in his arms, heard the diminishing pull of his breath - that last cry hitch. His mother, tall, a statue’s dream of humanity, had all but forbade his traveling. She never repeated herself. It was that one reply, tough as a stone:

”Pedro. No. Not this.”

The words had sent a chill down Ales’ spine. His father had insisted. It was his right as ruler of their sovereign nation to attend the selection of the next King of Kings. He would take Ales - his eldest, and his nurse along with him, if that would please her. His mother hadn’t argued. Hadn’t even frowned. Her gaze, black as coal, had left him - something like dismissal. Something like goodbye. She had already lost him, and Ales couldn’t even grasp why the issue would make such a mark. His father’s death had never been a real possibility, even at his worst. The look in his mother’s long, drawn face still remained in him, and he couldn’t even say why.

Slipping his sandals on as he departed his quarters, he navigated the swaying hall with ease - graceful as a sea-serpent. He was a skilled sailor. The sea was no stranger. Reaching the door of his father’s quarters, he rapped a soft knock - wood against scarred knuckles.

He entered, crossing the threshold. The light wasn’t too intrusive, but Ales blinked gently in his first moments. He heard soft voices, his father and Ursula, but he couldn’t quite make out their words.

The Emperor lay in bed, cotton tunic baring his broad chest. His father had drawn more thin in the passing weeks, but there was still life in his body, strength in his grip. Ales saw what he needed to see. His fading double lay there before him - the stark image of Ales himself - and he couldn’t bear to let the new frailness, when before there had only been everlasting vitality, mark his mind. He wouldn’t let it touch him. He couldn’t. Companion, leading hand of his childhood - the only true affection of his youth. Friend of his future. Here sat the only two people in the world who really knew him, and believed with the utmost confidence in his capacity for ruling.

“Father, Ursula,”

Ales’ rich, young baritone was still thick with sleep, but warm as midday sun. His gaze found his father’s nurse by his bedside, and his attention quivered a moment. His dream returned for a golden breath with a familiar note of an unfinished song. There was that unruly ruffle to her thick dark hair - a forlorn ardency - beyond endearing. There wasn’t a word, but Ales would still attempt to find it. Her hands moved like birds in flight, circling each other, enchanting, winsome tandem. He smiled, that transparent sort of adoration. There was nothing he was capable of hiding.

“Alessandro,”

His father’s voice was coarse, thin, with only a hint of his famous gusto. Ales could hear those two dreaded words, Branco Peste. White Plague. His thoughts had Ursula’s lilting tone.

“Meu filho, vem.” (My son, come.) He held his hand out to him, waiting for him to draw near.

Ales didn’t waste a moment. He came to his father’s bedside, taking his mirrored hand in his. There wasn’t the searing heat in his touch, not as there had been at the beginning of their journey.

“How are you feeling? Your fever has broken, pai, hasn’t it? You will be well enough to see the city, and the air will do you good, I have no doubt. What better place to recover?” He smiled. His father smiled back, though there was no weight to it. The Emperor met Ursula’s gaze, a knowing, shaded look. Ales hardly saw it.

He laid his other hand over his son’s, a gentle pat, a frightened squeeze. Time was coming short. He could hardly breathe, and Ales was still speaking of the days to come. The air drew tight as a noose. His breath was shallow, hitching every few moments. His temperature had fallen, true, but so had his spirit.

Let him move on. Let him grow. Let him have the courage to live without me.

The Emperor couldn’t speak, couldn’t see that hope in his eyes dim. He could only whisper,

“My boy, my boy, my boy,”

tags: cherub cherub ​

codedby@meraki.
 
CODING COMING SOON.
With little sleep in Ursula's eyes, the puffs of skin welled around those almond-like obs smiled all their own, a sad and silent smile where her lips neither dared to tread as she watched a withering father reassure his son that though life and death went hand in hand, love was the one exception as a common denomitor which could not be divided.

She understood her line of work well enough to know that no matter how much it hurt to inform another, they deserved to know. Alessandro deserved to know.

There was a certain warmth brought by Alessandro, a warmth Ursula had not felt for hours due to the lack of the Emperor's body heat, his fading sign of life expelling from his cold body and only existing upon his head where it was for him to decide that if this life ended for him now, he would be okay with how he lead their beautiful country, to be proud and honored that his dear son- His Faithful Majesty Alessandro II, Prince Imperial, By the Grace of God, By Blood, Country, and Divine Promise, Lord of Cristóvão and of Conquest- would find his peace, and comfort in that the country would be left into his chosen hands should anything happen to the current Emperor.
Only, Alesandro hadn't known, and his father wouldn't be the one to tell him.

Clearing her throat, Ursula shook from deep thought to slowly stand from her kneeling stance of what had previously been prayer, turned into a serious conversation of diagnosis and foreshadowing. It had been enough to watch this transfer of unspoken truth and hopeful advances which light as a feather cracked deep upon touch the concrete of certainty.

"Imperador, uma palavra por favor?"(Emperor, a word please?)

Her eyes unstuck from his frail highness to his stronger heir, flickering back down to return that knowing gaze. She promised to be gentle, to be honest, to stay at his side- things he hadn't yet known of her, she'd sworn. And when returned his gaze, she stepped around the bed adorned in handmade blanket over blanket, to stand at Alessandro's side.(edited)
Alessandro's tall, sturdy body hadn't failed to break down her fleeting confidence. Such a man of proportion to herself would fall harder. The sturdier they are, the louder the impact; Physically, mentally, behind these walls and on these wooden floors, Ursula was the keeper of each whisper, sigh, and silent cry.

Placing a hand on Ales' forearm, Ursula applied a gently squeeze.
"He needs the rest, and you need the clarity." She held a tone of concern and certain order which had been granted to her by title, important enough that it should be taken in consideration, low enough that if she were anyone else, she'd be scolded in some instances.
Then, walking away first, she looked down to her own attire, worn for hours and evidence for her lack of slumber. Her hair spoke for her in many ways, today it was restless- But always, it was free thinking.

Standing just outside the doorway, she rocked with the water and held to the wooden fram for brief support. Alessandro met her eyes in return as she turned to look, for even the ocean urged him on.
 
Anastasia & Connor
Location: an Imperium Renata courtyard celebration Interactions/Mentions: Mina & Fleur beebim beebim
The journey to Imperium Renata had been a long one, and by the time Anastasia arrived, she was absolutely itching to get out and explore the place. From the window of her ebony carriage, the printsessa wondered at the foreign Capitol; the entire place seemed to be singing- the people's excitement and celebration spread all throughout the city. While Korovasha did hold splendid celebrations in Moscow, they tended to be more orderly occasions with organized parades, choreographed dances, and the like. The chaos of the city amused her, she could say, smiling as the carriage passed through the city. Anastasia finally couldn't stand being in the carriage any longer when they approached a lively courtyard with a large fruit stand housing all types of beautiful, colorful things.

"Подождите! Остановитесь здесь," (Wait! Stop here) she called to her driver. He eyed her a bit apprehensively, but did as she asked, pulling over to the edge of the square.

Anastasia watched the bustle of the crowd from her window and listened to the muted sound of simple, cheerful music for a long moment, before moving to step out onto the street. As she opened the door and the intoxicating experience of the city hit her fully, she felt a light grasp on her arm and glanced to her accompanying guard. His eyes held hesitation, as she knew he had been tasked with getting her safely and swiftly to the castle of the King of Kings, and a crowded place like the courtyard could be a danger, or at least a stalling. Her expression softened from confusion to a slight smile after a moment and she stepped out of the carriage completely. Her guard sighed in resignation, and moved to follow her.

"Миша, небольшой объезд, не испортит нашу поездку," (Connor/Misha, a small detour will not ruin our trip) the printsessa insisted, chuckling as he eyed the faces around them wearily. He finally met her eyes, and after a moment allowed his expression to relax, mostly with the realization that there was no way that he was going to get her to go straight to the castle without a fight. Even then, it might be impossible. Connor told the driver to continue on to the castle, and deliver their belongings. They would make their way there later on their own..

Anastasia's face lit up with a smile at this as he offered his arm to escort her. She took it gracefully, and they began to head for the center of the square, many people stopping to watch them curiously for a moment as they passed. The printsessa knew what they were staring at; her regal, dark navy dress and Connor's full Imperial armor didn't exactly fit in with the crowd. Feeling a bit self-conscious about this, but not allowing it to show on her features, she approached a nearby small stand decorated with clothing ranging from simple, muted to more colorful- and more expensive- shawls and the such. The woman who seemed to be running the stand flicked her eyes to the printsessa's dress, then back to her face before smiling warmly and stepping aside to let Anastasia look at all of her options. Taking a moment to wonder at the well made items, she smirked good-humoredly at Connor and pointed to a vanilla-hued shawl with a simple yet beautiful floral stitching pattern around the edges. The woman running the stand pulled it down and draped it fluidly over Anastasia's shoulders, and the printsessa knew her guard was trying to think of how on earth she would pay for the item. Pulling a small pouch from where it had been tied around her neck as a necklace, she shook out enough Renata coin to pay for the shawl and handed it over to the woman. Nodding her head to the merchant kindly, she reached for Connor's arm and set off again.

After a quiet few moments, Connor finally asked the question she knew was on his tongue," Where exactly did you get that coin from, your highness?"

Anastasia laughed outright, and handed the now half-empty pouch over to the guard with a smile," Aleksei had some left over from his latest trip to the Capitol, and with some... convincing he allowed me to take it so that I could purchase something from the people while I was here."

"And you know how I feel about you calling me 'your highness', Миша, we're friends, call me by my name at least," she added.

She watched Connor think on this for a moment, before letting out a chuckle himself. He shook his head with a smile, and Anastasia was happily convinced that he had finally accepted their stop in the courtyard as a good thing. Letting her gaze drift from her friend's face back to the bustling crown around her, she noticed another certain familiar and friendly face. She suddenly took off through the crowd, startling her guard, and made her way towards the Princess Wilhelmina.

"Anastasia! Wait!" Connor called, making his way a bit less gracefully past the people surrounding them.

"Princess Wilhelmina, it is a pleasure to see you here," she said in greeting as she feel into pace with the Deventer heir," I assume you are here because of the selection?"
 
Príncipe Luís Manuel x Infanta Laura Francisca
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Typically when you tell the tale of royalty, the tale often surrounds the royalty themselves. When telling tale of the young Portugal's, that would be expected. Their trip was all in favor of the young Prince Luís and his road to 'victory' among other countries. Not that he particularly cared for it but instead that traveling was something he quite enjoyed. Seeing the sights of Imperium Renata, meeting new people, and even having face to face communications and interactions with the high royals from other countries.
Despite his annoying, younger sister attempting to take the spotlight before him. After their bags were checked they had prepared to make their way towards the market.
"The people here not only look beautiful but the food here smells amazing. Can you smell that, Luís? I think they have some good food around here. Are they known for baking around here?" The young princess asked her brother as she began to step ahead.
Clearly she didn't care much for what her own brother was doing, she was too nosy for her own good. if Luís didn't pay enough attention she'd likely get lost. Though his attention was elsewhere. He'd spent his own time admiring the clear, or nearly so, waters down below the pier. Luís glanced towards the princess beside him, eyes following her gaze towards the market farther ahead. "Perhaps they are. You can find out later." He shrugged, brushing off her thoughts rather easily. He'd grown up knowing how to ignore her. That's probably his best talent: ignoring his sister.
"For once I wish you'd actually care, Luís, the water's not even interesting." Laura argued, reaching out to nudge at her brother's shoulder.

Luís sighed heavily, lifting his head and turning towards his younger sibling with a cocked brow. "You know, Laura, I'll be ruler one day. Maybe you should learn some manners."

"Oh, as if you'd ever rule a land as big as this." Laura scoffed, brushing down the sides of her dress as she stepped closer to the prince.

Little did the Portugal's know however, that their dear Reginald had run off. Well, perhaps they did know, as the weight on Luís' shoulder had suddenly disappeared. The monkey was long gone at this point. He'd skid past the guards, leaping from pole to pole. Chaos was definitely going to ensue. Undoubtedly, it was the Portugal's fault.
Perhaps bringing animals wasn't the best idea but they did love their pets. Down the ship, led by a guard, was Conrad. He had a leather leash connected to an equally gorgeous collar around his neck. Definitely something they'd need for their lovely monkey, Reggie.

The barks of the dog and shouts from guards ahead was enough to stop the siblings from fighting.

Farther in the distance, the monkey had now landed on the head of another royal. Someone they didn't know but clearly a royal nonetheless. Reginald had jumped around many different merchants, swung from several poles, and even stolen an apple from a shopkeeper down the street. But to land upon a royal's head? That part was rather unthinkable.


Of course, the royal Portugal's took it upon themselves to rush over. Prince Luís handed the leash of their dear pet Conrad to his sister, allowing her to walk at her own pace whilst he ran towards the young man with dark hair to help him. "Reginald! Come back here, you foolish monkey!" The prince cried out, light blue eyes wide. Without much thought, he'd simply reached out to grab the monkey from the prince of Cyprus' head, only to watch it run away with apple in hand. And for him to knock the strange prince in the head as his sister followed behind him with Conrad.


The Portugal's were at it again. Making a mess of everything.
location: imperium renata docks | mentions: | interactions: Jordan Brinkman Jordan Brinkman | Luís' Outfit: xxx | Laura's outfit: xxx

"Your Royal Highness', The Portugals"
codedbymeraki.
 

WILHELMINA X DE VRIES

At this point in time, Wilhelmina was seemingly distracted by everything that was going on around her.

She would argue that it wasn't entirely her fault. The bright colors, the loud children, the buzzing atmosphere- it all came together into one cohesive package that would make anyone busy for the next few hours. This festival was much grander and brighter then the ones held in Deventer, hosting shows and selling foods that her own kingdom could never dream of producing- and to the princess, everything seemed to overwhelm her. At one point, while eyeing a large family picking out wooden toys, Wilhelmina began to doubt her place here in Imperium Renata. What did she have to offer to this great kingdom that others weren't willing to give? She was from a small kingdom, how did she know how to rule over a land as grand as this one? Would she even hold up to the greatness of the current king?

As the princess mulled in her thoughts, Fleur gently elbowed her side and Mina looked up to find her fried giving her a questioning stare.

"I was trying to explain about the rumors of dragon sightings in this area," Fleur repeated, "But it seems that you were lost in your own world."

Mina crossed her arms and chewed the inside of her cheek, shrugging it off as the two leisurely made their way across the "I guess I worry too much," the princess admitted with a defeated sigh, "'De toekomst is een boek met zeven sloten-' Father always said that, but I don't think he's ever had to face against nearly every prominent country the world has to offer."

"You do worry too much," Fleur retorted with a roll of her eyes, the blonde reaching down and grabbing the a doll they had purchased earlier during the day, pulling it out and manipulating the hands so they laid on the doll's hips. A mocking look of sternness crossed Fleur's face as she began to mimic the voice of Queen Simone. "'Mina you need to stop being to gloomy. All this sadness will make your face sag when you're still young, I would know, it happened to your father!"

Mina chuckled and pushed the toy away, shaking her head in response. "My mother would have you banished for that," she teased.

"Oh, she would have me banished for many things, but I'm still working here-" Fleur replied, only to be caught off guard by an unexpected visitor.

"Princess Wilhelmina, it is a pleasure to see you here. I assume you are here because of the selection?"

Wilhelmina blinked and turned her head just in time to see a familiar face catch up with them. Princess Anastasia, one of the closer royals she befriended during her travels and visits, was surely one of the many that Mina undoubtedly trusted. The princess had to admit that it had been awhile since the two have last seen each other.

"Anastasia? It is a surprise to see you here," Mina responded pleasantly, a growing grin crossing her features as she slowed down her pace. Off to the side, Fleur eyed the blonde and her companion curiously. "I didn't realize that you were also a candidate for the selection, too! Oh, and please, call me Mina- you know how much I dislike formalities when it is between friends."

It seemed that the festivities and new uplift in mood were making Mina much more social at the moment. Judging by the surprised look on Fleur's face, Mina's rambling was not something that either of them were used to. The princess playfully shooed Fleur's shocked expression and kindly returned her attention back to Anastasia, giving a slight acknowledgement towards the unfamiliar man standing off to the side.

"So," Mina continued with a casual air, "Did you just arrive? Must be long travels coming all the way from Korovasha, but we will soon be making our way towards the castle if you'd like to join us."

( *De toekomst is een boek met zeven sloten - Whatever will be, will be. )

mood: friendly
outfit: dress
interaction: aurnia aurnia



coding by: diaphanous


At this point in time, Wilhelmina was seemingly distracted by everything that was going on around her.

She would argue that it wasn't entirely her fault. The bright colors, the loud children, the buzzing atmosphere- it all came together into one cohesive package that would make anyone busy for the next few hours. This festival was much grander and brighter then the ones held in Deventer, hosting shows and selling foods that her own kingdom could never dream of producing- and to the princess, everything seemed to overwhelm her. At one point, while eyeing a large family picking out wooden toys, Wilhelmina began to doubt her place here in Imperium Renata. What did she have to offer to this great kingdom that others weren't willing to give? She was from a small kingdom, how did she know how to rule over a land as grand as this one? Would she even hold up to the greatness of the current king?

As the princess mulled in her thoughts, Fleur gently elbowed her side and Mina looked up to find her fried giving her a questioning stare.

"I was trying to explain about the rumors of dragon sightings in this area," Fleur repeated, "But it seems that you were lost in your own world."

Mina crossed her arms and chewed the inside of her cheek, shrugging it off as the two leisurely made their way across the "I guess I worry too much," the princess admitted with a defeated sigh, "'De toekomst is een boek met zeven sloten-' Father always said that, but I don't think he's ever had to face against nearly every prominent country the world has to offer."

"You do worry too much," Fleur retorted with a roll of her eyes, the blonde reaching down and grabbing the a doll they had purchased earlier during the day, pulling it out and manipulating the hands so they laid on the doll's hips. A mocking look of sternness crossed Fleur's face as she began to mimic the voice of Queen Simone. "'Mina you need to stop being to gloomy. All this sadness will make your face sag when you're still young, I would know, it happened to your father!"

Mina chuckled and pushed the toy away, shaking her head in response. "My mother would have you banished for that," she teased.

"Oh, she would have me banished for many things, but I'm still working here-" Fleur replied, only to be caught off guard by an unexpected visitor.

"Princess Wilhelmina, it is a pleasure to see you here. I assume you are here because of the selection?"

Wilhelmina blinked and turned her head just in time to see a familiar face catch up with them. Princess Anastasia, one of the closer royals she befriended during her travels and visits, was surely one of the many that Mina undoubtedly trusted. The princess had to admit that it had been awhile since the two have last seen each other.

"Anastasia? It is a surprise to see you here," Mina responded pleasantly, a growing grin crossing her features as she slowed down her pace. Off to the side, Fleur eyed the blonde and her companion curiously. "I didn't realize that you were also a candidate for the selection, too! Oh, and please, call me Mina- you know how much I dislike formalities when it is between friends."

It seemed that the festivities and new uplift in mood were making Mina much more social at the moment. Judging by the surprised look on Fleur's face, Mina's rambling was not something that either of them were used to. The princess playfully shooed Fleur's shocked expression and kindly returned her attention back to Anastasia, giving a slight acknowledgement towards the unfamiliar man standing off to the side.

"So," Mina continued with a casual air, "Did you just arrive? Must be long travels coming all the way from Korovasha, but we will soon be making our way towards the castle if you'd like to join us."

( *De toekomst is een boek met zeven sloten - Whatever will be, will be. )
 
Anastasia & Connor
Location: an Imperium Renata courtyard celebration Interactions/Mentions: Mina & Fleur beebim beebim Outfit: x
"Mina, мой друг, of course, and you will please call me Ana," (My friend) Anastasia remarked, smiling in kind to Connor, who had just caught up to them," It will be a true pleasure to have a good friend in these upcoming days.“

Knowing the Princess was not one for being horribly sociable normally, Anastasia was glad to see her relaxed. Their meeting, she hoped, had something to do with that, considering it had been some time since the two had last seen each other. It was not easy to visit one another, as the journey was long and the terrain difficult between Deventer and Moscow. They had written to each other in the past, though that again was not a regular occurrence for the same reasons visits were. At Mina's playful shooing, Anastasia turned to nod in acknowledgment of her Lady-in-waiting. Anastasia and Fleur had spoken before, though briefly, and the printsessa knew little to nothing about her- but, Mina had spoken highly of her in the past, so she had Anastasia's trust.

"So, did you just arrive? Must be long travels coming all the way from Korovasha, but we will soon be making our way towards the castle if you'd like to join us."

Anastasia let out a quiet chuckle at Mina's question, the relief of being out of the carriage hitting her again.

"Oh yes, it was a few days' travel to Renata, though it felt a bit like years," Anastasia joked, falling into an easy conversation with her friend, "Nothing against Connor-" she nodded to her guard, who had fallen into step just to her right- "I just cannot stand being in a carriage for that long. If I ever come again after this, I will insist on horseback. I would much prefer to be out in the weather than confined within four walls."

Connor shook his head with a sigh at her comment, though he said nothing.

"We would be delighted to accompany you to the palace."

As they walked, Anastasia allowed her eyes to roam for a while. A person couldn't blame her- there was just so much to look at. Booths and storefronts lined the street, all with varying amounts of decoration placed to draw people in. Street performers played music, juggled, and told jokes, adding to the ever lively atmosphere of the place. A small girl was handing out wild flowers to those that passed her, and Anastasia took one with a grin.

"Thank you, цветок," (Flower) she said, gaining a bright smile from the child at her foreign words. The Printsessa imagined the girl had no idea what she'd said, but it had made her happy all the same.

"This place is wonderful," she commented, turning to Mina again as they walked.
 
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[class=Notes] //So this is an older code that I tried to fix up to look nicer// //Forward slashes are comments // //and do no show up in the final design,// //these are to help you find everything easily// //and explain some code as well // //These comments must be with in a class or script tags// // in order to be hidden, from what I know. // //Long URls are images// //# followed by letter and numbers are Hex codes// //or color codes// //this code does not show breaks unless is shows the
code. // // when typing responses to rps, be aware that when you press ente// // it will not show that you did. you'll have to use the
tags// [/class]
[class=Notes] //The background image// [/class]
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[class=Notes] //the image in the cirlce and the border// [/class]
FRANZ
[class=Notes] //the transparent with background and the border and below is the text// [/class]
The Imperium was a welcome if somewhat overwhelming thing to return to. King Caesar had been very free with invitations this year, and the number of people inside the plaza seemed to confirm that. Women in bright dresses accompanied men in straight-coated suits that were the current masculine fashion. Just about every important person from Braganza to Korovasha was in attendance, decked out in their glittering finest. But no matter how many people he met and greeted at these things, there were always times when Franz felt a bit distant. Perhaps he'd never been one for chattering or cajoling. Although his ward Konrad was getting some certain looks from a handful of high ladies, he seemed far less skilled at navigating crowds than he was.

"Look forward, Junge¹." Franz chided. "I shouldn't have to tell you not to--"

Something slammed into Franz's back. He only caught a brief glimpse at it, a blur of a person with long-nailed fingers clawing at his shoulder. It was enough to send him stumbling off balance. Instinctively, Franz drew his sword, turning to swing at his would-be attacker. Instead, his eyes found a young maiden, already in groveling position, face pointed down. A chorus of gasps followed by dead silence filled their section of the plaza, save for the shuffling of a few feet as people drew back. "Milord - no, your Highness." The girl blurted out two lofty titles, neither of which were correct. "I humbly ask for your forgiveness. I . . am but only a performer, summoned by His Majesty King Caesar."

Franz sighed with exasperation. Of all the people to bring him embarrassment this afternoon... it took a lifetime of courtly training to keep his ire from showing. "Majestät, Euer Ärmel ist zerissen.²" Konrad whispered, his voice carrying the slightest hint of what sounded like second-hand fear. "Jaja, Junge, ich bin mir dessen wohl bewusst³." Franz responded, running a hand over the sleeve where the fabric had torn. It wasn't like it mattered. The tear could easily be covered with an adjustment of his coat, and he had plenty of other suits with him, though that wasn't to say he wasn't going to let this ditzy girl off too easily.

"Girl." Franz rumbled sternly, tapping the tip of his blade against the cobbles. "You ought to know that where I come from, the hand that touches the Kaiser unbidden is cut off." There was a long silence as the Emperor turned over options in his head, before at last slamming his sword back into its scabbard. "But I will not stain King Caesar's honor by spilling your blood in his sacred palace. Run along and let your superiors know what has happened. Rest assured, King Caesar and I will be speaking about this, and then we will discuss an appropriate punishment for you." And yet the girl babbled on.

"If you would allow this servant, I would be honored to tell you your fortune in return for your forgiveness for this incident that I have caused."

Franz gritted his teeth. "Do you take me as a patron of superstitious nonsense, girl?" he growled. "Get out of my sight before you bring further shame to yourself!"

[class=Notes] //Below is the purple box and the content meant for tags// [/class]
Interacting: Daeina
Located: Plaza
Mentioned: deer deer

¹ boy;young man
² 'Your Majesty, your sleeve has been ripped.'
³ 'Yes, yes, boy, I'm well aware of that'
code by AgWordSmith AgWordSmith
 
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Sjoni Basara and Ozymandias Basara
Time is weird. So is space. I hope ours match again some day.​
Interactions: Portugals, Daeina, Franz and Konrad | Tags: WhispFlick WhispFlick deer deer Abendrot Abendrot | Location:Festival

  • tumblr_nizarw9Lxp1qhru4ho2_540.gif

    Sjoni considered himself to be more of an observer of things, but this escapes his mind. He was more focused on what lay ahead of him, ignoring the slight change in weight on his head -- whether on purpose or not, that wasn’t up to him to decide. He turns when he heard footsteps, and upon seeing the members of Portugal’s royalty, a puzzled look crosses his face though just for a moment, a brief flicker. The weight shifts again as the male sibling takes the small creature from on top of his head. He shifts a bit at being so near to another person.


    “A… I see I have met a friend of yours, though just for a brief moment.” He offers, keeping his nerves under check, as best he can thought that isn’t as difficult as he has thought for a moment. Sjoni offers a light grin, trying his best to appear to be pleasant -- to what end, though? He knew the fears that surrounded his country, even as mere rumors they ruin any reputation that he may have come here with. “My name is Sjoni Basara. I… Won’t bore you with the extensive titles.” He realizes it’s a weak joke to be sure, but hopes it passes over all the same.

    Surely, I don’t appear to be so strange. Or… or so terrifying that I can’t be approached. Right? He knew he could always be wrong, thought he does his best to hope -- even if to lighten the weight of his own pessimism for a mere moment.

 



Princess Valérie of Auvergne
“Let us not forget to celebrate what it means to be alive.” ​


Location: The entrance of the festival

Scenario: Find me where the sun doth shine.

Interactions: sprouhtt sprouhtt

[written in collaboration with sprouhtt sprouhtt ]
​
There was no greater sculptor that day than the sun.

The placid glow of dawn carved vague, dreamlike silhouettes from the total darkness of night — outlines of towering spires and steeples against the horizon, human figures emerging from the gloom as if they had only just been molded into existence. Each ray of light chiseled grooves into pillars and contours into skin as though the people's flesh were the sun's clay. And as the sun ascended yet higher into the sky, it engraved intricate designs into the walls of each building and etched lineaments into the countenance of each individual with the precision and care of a seasoned artist who had trained for this exact occasion since the beginning of time. Within hours, an entire kingdom came to life by virtue of its craft.

But there remained some who chose to linger a while longer in the quiet safety of shadow, resisting the light that exposed to the world all that it managed to touch. Past the silk that hung from every window and the fruit stands that lined every street, beyond the gilded doors of the palace and the stately carriages bound for its gates, one might find on the outskirts of the Capitol a small tavern whose timeworn wooden beams must have witnessed many a drunken brawl and scarcely a drop of sunlight.

Only one corner of the building seemed impervious to the clamor and turmoil that arose from the almost endless festivities and folk music at the tavern's center. There, a widow in perhaps her late thirties, whose once sharp brow had been eroded away by years of helpless grief, peered with an unfamiliar sense of determined intensity at a chessboard that lay waiting on the table in front of her. Across the table sat a much younger lady, enveloped in both a black velvet cloak and an aura of impenetrable mystery. Her hood concealed all but her collarbone, which protruded from the base of her neck as though it alone sought light and recognition from beneath the guise of mediocrity.

Several minutes passed before the widow at last brought her hand to the table and moved her rook across the board, displacing her opponent's final bishop. Though the rest of the tavern roared with commotion, she appeared to be conscious of nothing but her own breath, which snagged in her throat in anticipation of her rival's response.

Yet the cloaked lady did not hesitate to seize her own knight, black as her attire, and place it in a position that threatened the older woman's king. A triumphant smile flickered across her lips, of such a splendid rarity that it almost managed to gleam through the darkness in which it was veiled.

“Checkmate."

A look of resignation softened the widow's expression. “You play well, young lass," she admitted, withdrawing her arms from their state of tense apprehension and folding them together in front of her. “But do tell me — just where did you happen upon a lavish cloak such as the one you now wear? Surely, 'tis not authentic velvet?"

“Indeed it is," the lady replied. “This cloak is from the kingdom of Auvergne."

“Why, Auvergne!" The widow's face illuminated with the pleasant warmth of a distant memory. “I mean not to boast, but I once met a noble there, and I must say —"

“I am its princess."

“I beg your pardon?"

“Then fling yourself at my feet and beg," declared Valérie, rising from her chair and whisking her cloak to the floor, “for earning my pardon is no easy task."

With these final words, she whirled in the opposite direction, the skirt of her dress flaring out in a magnificent blur of silvery white, and she marched toward the tavern door, leaving a trail of astonished silence in her wake. The bartender, the innkeeper, the various travelers who had lodged here the night before with the hope of attending the most noble, most sophisticated, most illustrious festival any kingdom could dare to offer — all of their eyes were trained on her, steadfast like dozens of arrows taut against bowstrings, ready to fire. Yet she glided through the entrance of the tavern with the unyielding poise and dignity of one who is wearing armor that no arrow can pierce.

The sun embraced Valérie as if it had been expecting her, and she sank into its arms with abandon, allowing the beams of light to drench her skin and the cool, sprightly breeze to tousle her hair. Her reunion, however, was interrupted by the soft, delicate voice of her handmaiden, who huffed as she approached her with a steady gaze, guiding the princess's horse along as well.

“I've been searching the mountains for you, Your Highness."

“The mountains, Vienna?" Valérie said, climbing onto and sitting sidesaddle atop the back of her palfrey, whose impatient whinny and considerable attitude were met with an affectionate stroke of the mane. “Is that so? How fortunate you were, then, to find your way back in time for the festival. Now come, make haste; we must not let such frivolous banter forestall our arrival."

As Vienna mounted her own horse, Valérie murmured in her palfrey's ear, and then they were off, ambling through the city alleyways and weaving between street vendors and tradesmen. A crowd of commoners scattered like pigeons at the determined click of hooves against cobblestones, but Valérie paid no regard to the awed whispers of her name and the disbelief in their eyes. What was the princess of Auvergne doing here, of all places, among the lowly civilians of Imperium Renata — within neither the walls of the palace nor the commotion of the festival? Where was her carriage; where were her royal guards? But it mattered little, for it was not long before Valérie and her handmaiden could taste the aroma of fragrant spices and freshly baked bread on their tongue, or hear the popping of firecrackers followed by waves of enthusiastic cheers.

When at last they reached the entrance, it was she who now gazed in awe. The instant Valérie breathed in, she inhaled chaos — and as she exhaled, chaos fluttered away on the wind, frolicking with the sheer sense of liberty that can be rivaled by that of no human bound to this earth. The people who danced amidst the throngs of peasants and nobles alike, the acrobats and jugglers captivating the masses of attendees with their marvelous performances — they all wore chaos on their faces and arms like war paint. Chaos surged from the voices of the children who sang, and it gleamed from every red and gold tapestry. As Valérie beheld the spectacle displayed before her, presented to her by some phenomenal human truth at once tremendously foreign and irresistibly welcoming, she felt as though there were chaos coursing through her veins. Something truly wondrous had come alive.


In the rarest and most beautiful moments, everyone is so violently different that in a way they are almost the same, that one cannot distinguish between them, and any past speculation that the world is ugly or cruel suddenly seems unfathomably absurd — for in these few moments all members of humankind are united in their individuality with such strength that even the most potent of forces cannot divide them.

And to Valérie, there seemed no moment more rare or more beautiful than that which unfolded before her at the very present.
codedbycrucialstar​
 
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Vienna I. Abner
​
AopC6oQ.jpg

Location: The King's Festival (In the heart of the town)
Interacting w/: Valarie ( jul jul )
Mentioned: N/A

Vienna was shocked when she had found that Valarie was at a pub, playing chess with men who were probably twice her age. Even though Vienna was her handmaiden, Vienna cared for Valarie very much, and always looked out for her, even if it meant taking the blame for her. Often times, Vienna feels like she is under appreciated when she works. Most of the other servants would kill to have her role as Valarie's handmaiden, but often times Vienna wished that she could switch positions with the other servants. Vienna had to snap herself back into reality, she didn't know how to explain it to the guards that Valarie had gone missing. Vienna spent the whole time looking for her, instead of unpacking her things. Vienna knew that Valarie would probably give her hell for not unpacking, but if anything were to happen to Valarie, it would be on her.

When she had found Valarie, it was about time. The festival was going to start any time now. Vienna mounted the horse that was next to Valerie's horse, and she began to ride off with her. Vienna and Valarie had made it in on time, the festival was beautifully decorated. Dancers, jugglers, entertainers and much more filled the city with so much excitement and noise. It gave Vienna chills, good chills. Her nose picked up a delicious scent that was coming towards her, it smelled like sweet bread being baked and other delicious goodies. Vienna saw how much Valarie was in 'awe', that it made it happy to see her smile. "Where shall we venture off to first?" Vienna asked as she waited for Valarie to answer.
 
ACSszfHcE3JdM0WkMD92anWeZM1o-19F6SqdMgz-hg=s900-mo-c-c0xffffffff-rj-k-no

442799bd78999f141247463866da45de.png
location: The Palace
scenario: "oh, tut tut!”
“Fate called and met with Coincidence"
interactions: Kaiser Franz and Konrad, Ozymandis
mentions: mother Bixenta and her sisters
tags: Abendrot Abendrot , Jordan Brinkman Jordan Brinkman
The sound of a blade sheathing from it's hold rang in her ears as she bit back her tongue. Her eyes landed on the point of the blade that had came in contact with the cobbled grounds. She narrowed her eyes, still keeping her head low as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. The murmurs of the crowd behind her seemed to have defeaned in her ear as she could only imagine that her mother would catch a heartattack at seeing her predicament. Daeina could hear her mother's screeching voice in her head and her sisters' taunts at her mistake once more. Honestly, if she had wanted out of the group, she could have done so a long time ago. But, what kept her with the Morisettes was her loyalty to them and although she hated to admit it, she relied on her mother for her sanity. She needed the constant reminder that she was alive and not just living day in and day out for the next meal.

Nevertheless, the young woman couldn't find it in her bones to feign fear or horror at the idea of having her head removed from her neck. In fact, it fascinated her as she could fly and soar to an all new height. A mystery in itself. The sweet calling of eternal sleep in the abyss. But, she was brought out of her thoughts when Kaiser Franz responded in a tone she knew all too well. She could imagine a scowl on his face, his brows furrowing together, and the hint of irritation rising as his heart must have hammered quickly against his chest. All but an observation and assumption. Daeina learned quickly the ways of nobles and royalty. They care for nothing but themselves or they crave power to better themselves. Whichever the case may be, Daeina found no sympathy for them. It was all but a game, a foolish, idiotic game, intriguing nonetheless. She just happened to have front row seats at the moment.

"Girl." The royal started, addressing her, "You ought to know that where I come from, the hand that touches the Kaiser unbidden is cut off." There was a long silence that passed between both her and "His Majesty" before she heard the slamming of his sword back into its scabbard. "But I will not stain King Caesar's honor by spilling your blood in his sacred palace. Run along and let your superiors know what has happened. Rest assured, King Caesar and I will be speaking about this, and then we will discuss an appropriate punishment for you."

A silent scoff slipped as she sighed inwardly. Another 'Majesty', another day to please. Should she grovel in submission and praise the Kaiser for his forgiveness? Should she worry about the punishment she may receive just for tearing off a small piece of fabric that could be easily replaced by someone who owned a fortune? Daeina could only internally grumble as she took each scolding with a grain of salt. Tell her superiors of what she has done? Oh, they knew already. However, when the Kaiser ridiculed her belief in the Fates, Daeina wanted to bite back and tell the Kaiser that he might as well spit and step on her for such an insult.

"Do you take me as a patron of superstitious nonsense, girl?" The Kaiser growled at her suggestion of telling his fortune. "Get out of my sight before you bring further shame to yourself!"

Shame? No. She would never feel shame. Not when her life depended on her pride and how she displayed herself. Her dignity relied on her pride and she would never allow herself to succumb to what the Royals believed commoners should be. Daeina didn’t feel ashamed. Instead, she still felt herself intact, never once flinching at the cold and harsh words of the Kaiser. She remained in her position for a moment longer waiting for the Kaiser’s temper to ease. If she heard correctly, the foreign words that rolled off his tongue when he spoke to another was of that of Tudischland. Regardless, Daeina could only sigh inwardly. It pleased her to know she had stumbled across the Kaiser of Tudischland, an older candidate than those near her age. If she had to pick between which Royal to attend to, she would choose and prefer the older candidates than the picky, pettiness of the young ones. It was easier for Daeina to find a stepping stone with those beyond her age, using her talents to help ease the mind and the loneliness of older nobles and royals.

However, before Daeina could utter a response, wanting to give the Kaiser a lesson, a voice called from besides her as her dark, alluring eyes glanced towards the male.

“M-my matron. I’m so sorry that I lost you in the crowd. P-please forgive me for my foolishness.” The dark haired male spoke towards her before his gaze hardened to a sharp silver at the Kaiser. “What would you have me do, my Matron. Surely he wronged you?” The foreign male continued.

Daeina merely furrowed her brows slightly before noticing the passing glance he had given her. His clothes gave way once more to where he was from. A place she wished not to remember. But, despite avoiding him at the marketplace, perhaps this was Fate’s way of interceding. Matron? Loophole. A sly grin passed her lips before it slowly disappeared as she cleared her throat. If she was going to Hell, might as well have a bit of fun.

Humming, Daeina shook her head, repositioning herself as she slowly stood upright, her posture changing as she looked directly in the Kaiser’s eyes. A small smile appeared on her lips before she spoke, ”Forgive me for my manners, Kaiser. It seems my facade had been seen through.” She started before continuing, her will and eyes never faltering, “Unfortunately, you and I will see each other again. Sad that we couldn’t get more acquainted. It would have been a pleasure to have given you your fortune. But, alas, it seems you don’t know of my country’s culture.” Daeina tilted her head to the side, sighing as she feigned irritation.

Turning to look at the male, Daeina’s face turned into a slight scowl, “Should I have to keep a bell attached to you? You should have known better to leave my side.” Her voice rose an octave higher as she scolded the male before her attention went towards Kaiser.

An apologetic smile plastered on her face as she bowed her head once more, “Perhaps the next time we meet it would be under better circumstances. Hopefully, by then, you would have read up on a little of our country.” She finished, trying to hide a small grin that wanted to appear on her lips.

Soon, Daeina made her way around the Kaiser and his companion, her head siangling towards the other male. “We shouldn’t keep the King of Kings waiting.” At that, Daeina walked up to stairs in fluid motion, a small smile appearing on her lips as she walked with pride. The whispers around her continued and she could only feel her mother’s heated stare at her back.

Once she made it inside the Palace where eyes and ears couldn’t utter a whisper or pay attention, Daeina turned to look towards the all too familiar figure before her. She had seen the male before and it wasn’t just at the marketplace. But, no matter how much she tried to figure out why he looked familiar, Daeina shook her head. ”Thank you,” she started, ”If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, I may have caused more issues. However, despite us living to see another hour, maybe the next time we won’t be so lucky.” Daeina finished grimly, shaking her head before she leaned in closer to her supposed guard. With a quick peck on his cheeks, Daeina grinned before whispering in his ears, ”I had quite a bit of fun. See you around soon, handsome.”
codedbycrucialstar​
 
Chapter One: The Masquerade
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D
ay one of the festival soon came to an end. Opening day had been quite a success as only laughter, cheer, and the brightest smile displayed through the celebration. With rosy cheeks, crinkled smiles, and heads turning in wonder and awe, the people and the guest of Imperium Renata found themselves immersed in the festivities. The joyous atmosphere in the marketplace, courtyard, and city in Imperium Renata radiated through from the morning dews to the ever-so soft sound of crickets buzzing at nightfall. Small burning candle lights trailed through the cobbled streets and lanterns illuminated the night sky.

Just as nightfall encompassed the sky, the sun rose once again for a brand new day. A new day dawned for the second day of the festival. The arrival of more candidates came through the checkpoints of the gates bringing their own sense of flair and markings into the city of Imperium Renata. Wherever one looked or walked, the streets were crowded with people from all walks of life, providing a sense of vibrancy and unity that showcased the many tradition and cultures of the kingdoms in the Empire. However, as the second day of the festival came into a full swing, the security of the Palace tightened immensely as the Royals from every part of the Empire made their way through the festival and into the Palace. The Palace was free from silence and emptiness as the curtains were drawn open to let in the natural light. With the appearances of the candidates for the trials and quest to become the next King of Kings, small chatter and gossip echoed through the Palace. Some servants found themselves betting on who would win the trials, others found themselves trying their best to accommodate the candidates and dreaded their impending restless time as they tried to keep the candidates and other Royals who visited happy and content.

Another day passed by without any disruption and chaos. As the third day of the festival approached, the uproar of the festivities continued louder and more boisterous than the next. In different parts of the city in Imperium Renata, taverns and inn-keeps were getting filled by the second. The jubilee never stopped as the people of Imperium Renata celebrated another good year of harvest while villagers and entertainers danced in gratitude and prepared for the coming season and years. Cheers and praise of renewal of hope and retribution echoed in the air.

On the third day of the festival, however, an invigorating event happens as tradition. Tales that transcends through time to the beginning of Imperium Renata are spoken and honored. A statue of the Lady of Hope, a name the locals called her and those who know of stories of a fair-skinned, ethereal woman that once roamed Earth, is placed upon a float that makes its presence up and down the aisle of the cobbled streets and cities of Imperium Renata. A parade in Nadezha the Lady of Hope’s honor passes through the kingdom as petals are laid on the ground and heads are bowed when the float passes.

She was said to have breathed life into the very kingdoms that have been set in the Empire. Through Nadezha’s enchantments and sorcery, the first civilisation formed on the very grounds the King of Kings set foot upon: Imperium Renata. Her emotions became a driving force that allowed land to appear on the grounds of Imperium Renata: her sad tears becoming the water, her angry stomps becoming the plateaus and plains, her happy expressions allowed flowers and plants to bloom, and her satisfaction allowed the world to turn as the skys came from above, day in and day out. Nadezha’s creations came to be through ashes and soil, molding and shaping, as her essence because lifeforms. She was purity herself.

However, despite her tales, no one has seen her or could even imagine her appearance, it was only through words of “mystics” who saw a vision of her in their dream that allowed them to paint the Lady of Hope - showcasing an image of Nadzeha. Rumours and word spreaded across the land, but like most legend, it became a myth - or a tale long-forgotten as the accuracy of such story has been twisted. Some say she is but a whisper in the wind or a spirit that watches over - a Higher Being that could be compared to those Higher Beings in religion, others, however, to those who believe in the mystiques, seeing her as a Goddess that once roamed the Earth, much like others, but the one true Empress of Imperium Renata, ruling Mankind. But, just as a parade is celebrated in her honor, a cradle is made in her name and wreaths filled with flowers are placed on a podium for all to see and give prayers and thanks to the Lady of Hope, blessed to have a future with more seasonal changes. She is life and death.

The parade lasted from mid-day until the evening of the third day of the festival. As sunset approached, the cities, marketplace, and courtyards of Imperium Renata slowly cleared out as the locals of Imperium Renata got ready for the Masquerade Ball happening in the Palace that same night. On the other hand, the candidates and the Royals have been pampered and prepared to make their formal appearance at the Masquerade. It was only during this time that the villagers of the city were allowed to enter the Palace - a symbol and honor of thanks from the King of Kings as it's tradition for the nobles and Royals to be with their people. If a ruler does not know their people, how can one rule? The King of Kings considers themselves bonded with their people, as they matter. To finish off and to mark the end of the parade and honor of the Lady of Hope, a small firework display shot through the sky. With the help of the Huodese Empire and Han, the King of Kings and their Ruler were able to showcase such beauty and illuminations in the night sky. The colours filled the sky and only loud roars of cheer can be heard as the people threw flowers and waved flags as the ceremonial parade ended.

Soon, it was time for the Masquerade Ball.
visual image | | theme song | | moodboards: i ii​
 
KING OF KINGS: KING CAESAR OF HELANAISCA
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"Your Majesty." A clear and concise voice cut through the air, his head lowering in respect as he addressed the King of Kings. "There have been no word from His Highness Crown Prince Alexei of Avalon in weeks and he is the last to arrive." Clearing his throat, the young guard held back his concern as he continued, "What will you have me do?"

His blue eyes glistened as he looked over the balcony, his eyes drifting below as carriages passed through the gates of the Palace as well as the strides of his people walking across the bridge. His hands were held behind his back as he allowed the night breeze to whisper through his hair as he sighed softly to himself. A small grunt escaped in acknowledgement to let the guard know he had heard his word. Closing his eyes, the King of Kings took a moment to enjoy the peaceful air before making an appearance in the bright, illuminating lights of the ballroom and into the fray of a gay atmosphere.

"And what of my Empress and the Princes?" He questioned in a modulated tone, his mood seemingly pleasant tonight as he sighed, feeling joyous for tonight's special occasion.

Still with his head bowed behind the King of Kings, the guard spoke, "They have arrived this morning and will be awaiting for you to arrive in your quarter's common room."

Nodding, the King of Kings opened his eyes, taking another moment as he smiled fondly over Imperium Renata's land. "How long has it been since my ascension?" King Caesar took every moment with stride, taking his time to enjoy himself. It would be long before he would be able to find tranquility of the night with the trials that laid ahead. However, he had to wonder, had he been a good ruler as he believed himself to be? Had his people truly find enlightenment of coming together in solidarity than fighting one another? Another reign of peace passed and King Caesar could only hope that it continued.

Soft footsteps trailed behind the guard and headed towards the King, "It is time." The older woman's voice whispered gently through the air as she approached the King of Kings. "And it has not been too long, Your Majesty. If only we could allow you to continue your Rule." The King's handmaiden stood to the side, awaiting his Majesty's orders as King Caesar committed the memory of the scenery to his head, one last time. His handmaiden, on the other hand, had grown fond of the King of Helanaisca despite working for many Kings prior to him. She could only worry who would be the next King of Kings-to be. The older woman found herself wondering why the King of Kings chose some of the candidates that he did, much less, the people. Some candidates weren't good enough in her eyes feeling that some had souls as dark as night.

Turning away, King Caesar made his way back inside to his chambers, before pausing to place a small hand on the guard's shoulder. "Tell the Lieutenant to be on the look-out for the Crown Prince of Avalon. All of the candidates must arrive here safely." As he finished his orders, King Caesar passed the young guard as the guard waited for the King of Kings to leave before doing what he was ordered. His handmaiden, on the other hand, followed behind King Caesar, keeping a safe distance from His Majesty like she had done for many years - an effortless pace.

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Finally, it was time for the Masquerade to begin. All the Royals, nobles, and commoners have been invited inside the Palace's great ballroom. Chandeliers hung above the ceiling as a painting could be seen from above. White and gold columns lined along the ballroom with small vases filled with flowers displayed one after the next, decorating the ballroom. The dazzling light of the ballroom seemed to be dull in comparison to the vibrant, magnificent colours of different ballgowns and mask that filled the room. The windows were open, allowing the music to echoe throughout not only the ballroom but outside the Palace. However, through the sidedoors on the right side of the Palace, one can see the Royal courtyard displayed filled with exotic flowers and plants from miles on end. But, the most important area in the ballroom is the throne that was placed near the end of the ballroom with a setting that allowed the King of Kings to see beyond and above. It was a great place to sit and stand giving view of anything that could happen in the ballroom. The orchestra were on the left side with instruments that varied from one kingdom to the next, but despite their differences, the sounds that played came together in tandem. The flag of Imperium Renata, the symbol of the magnimous Empire, flared with proudness and pride atop the ballroom like an arch overheard above the people yet below the chandeliers.

With a loud fanfare of trumpets and the echoing voice of the Royal Herald Messenger, the music slowly ceased as all eyes were turned to the other side of the room across from the throne where stairs ascended and descended. Each candidate were hidden behind a door and one-by-one their names were to be called as they are formally introduced to the people. Adorned with an attire that symbolises their own kingdoms and its culture, the Royal Herald messenger began to announce the candidates. Some were full masked and some were not fully masked, regardless, those in the ballroom wrote the appropriate attire as it is , after all, a Masquerade Ball that will allow everyone to mingle with each other regardless of status.

"Presenting Her Imperial Highness, Imperatorskaya Printsessa Anastasia of Korovasha!" The Royal Herald Messenger declared loudly, his voice sounding off the walls of the ballroom. Small claps could be heard as the two doors opened, presenting the Princess Anastasia. Once she was revealed to the public, she would stand atop the steps of the stairs, allowing others to look upon her with wonder, awe, or even contempt - whichever one felt about her. Soon, when she descended down the stairs, the person to be greeting her would be her one of her servants and she will be guided towards the area where the candidates can sit on the right side of the King of Kings, if she chooses. Once Princess Anastasia had her shining moment, the next candidate had been called.

"Presenting Her Royal Highness, An Banphrionsa Corónaithe Áine of Éireann! . . . (and so on) "

As the formal introduction continued so forth in alphabetical order of the candidate's First name, one-by-one the candidates found themselves being immersed in the crowd of people in the ballroom. Some went to their seats while others slowly gathered inside the crowd. Once the formal introduction ended, it was now time for the King of Kings to grace his presence to the entire Empire.

Soon, another Royal fanfare, specifically for the King of Kings was heard.

"Announcing, His Imperial Royal Majesty, His Highness, the King of Kings, King Caesar and with him is Her Imperial Highness, Empress Isis and the Crown Prince Julian of Helanaisca! "

Small murmurs continued and only when the doors opened to reveal the High King of the Empire did the chatter stop and all eyes were upon the older King of Kings. With a golden crown above his head, bejeweled with Imperium Renata's colour: ruby red, the King of Kings slowly found himself atop of the stairs as he looked upon his people. He bore the crest of Imperium Renata, a symbol of a dragon. Following in next to him was His Empress Isis as she adorned colours that matched King Caesar, symbolising her status. On King Caesar's left side was his First Born son to Empress Isis, Crown Prince Julian as he wore the markings of the True King of Helanaisca, representing his own kingdom. As King Caesar descended down the stairs, his gold and red suit seemed the radiant under the light of the ballroom as his Empress slowly placed a gently hand on his arm as King Caesar carefully kept at the same pace as her. The Crown Prince, on the other hand, found himself distracted his he looked for his brother among the crowd.

As the High King's Royal family made their way to throne in the ballroom, the pathway cleared aside for the family with their heads lowered, bowing to them. Empress Isis was gleaming, her nose in the air as she gracefully made her way through the crowd as King Caesar allowed a small, mirth, smile displayed on his lips, ready to finish the formalities and begin the party. Once they arrived to the throne, the Empress and Crown Prince took their place as King Caesar held his hand up.

"Welcome, friends." He began, "I am delighted to be able to stand here before you with gratitude and glee. It has been another triumphant forty year!" King Caesar cheered, as he began the applauds, wanting to applaud for not only him but for his people. Small cheers echoed in the crowd as happy faces displayed. "Raise your glass as a cheers to you, to us and hopefully another grand year! Let's welcome our candidates!" With that, King Caesar took his glass, sipping the red liquid as it slowly made its way down his throat. He smiled widely as he finished, "Let the Ball commence! Music!" Soon, loud chatters began as the music slowly started rising once more.
APOLLO, FIRST SON OF KING CAESAR
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The path to Imperium Renata had been a long ride for the supposed heir of Helanaisca. Since his birth, his people have given him hope that he would rule as King one day in Helanaisca. Tutored in many different subjects, the young Apollo had high hopes - beaming with energy and compassion for the honor of ascending the throne. He had wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father being raised to be passionate and compassionate for not just the royals and nobles, but the people themselves. But, it seemed fate had another path set for him. It wasn't until his brother was born that the everything was taken from him. His lifestyle. His education. His aspirations. His dreams and hopes. No longer was Apollo needed, taken away and thrown out.

Regardless, he grew up bitter for the people around him. He did whatever he wanted, no questions asked. Nobles and royals alike never deterred him from playing around and causing scandals and havoc. It wasn't as if King Caesar could discipline him anymore than Empress Isis would. But, a deal was a deal. He'd stay away and she'd allow him to do whatever he wanted, especially woman. He never trusted anyone after that as it slowly tore his heart away piece by piece. Apollo only had himself to protect and he liked living the care-free life despite having a certain someone hover over him. His love for his people was still there and he would lend a helping hand if needed, but, courtly matters and politic affairs served him not interest or purpose. He found joy in sailing and swimming the ocean despite his own "guards" countless idle concern and beration of Apollo's dangerous pastimes. Apollo never cared for his guards knowing they were only spies and "watchers" for the Empress in case he may cause a coup. What a load of - - -.

But, life passed by and despite his handmaiden, the woman that seemed to never left his side though he knew. . . hated him now, after what he's put her through, Apollo strived and survived, through it all. However, the hate festered and Apollo could only let it out by finding comfort in pleasure and pleasantries of the life he used to own in his grasp. When word travelled of his father's reign was coming to an end and it was time to pack up and head to Imperium Renata, Apollo refused at first. If the royal family were to all head over towards the Empire, who would stay and watch their kingdom? Despite hating his step-mother, he still had half a mind to make sure he had a home to come back. But, when he offered to take the steed of being the Ruler of Helanaisca considering he is of the Royal bloodline, Empress Isis only seemed to have laughed in his face, feigning that he couldn't miss the family reunion, though, he knew better. It was such a farce as the Empress still wanted to keep him on the reigns and a watchful eye on him. How paranoid.

Arriving to Imperium Renata reminded him of what his childhood was like, the festivities and "magic" in the air. Apollo couldn't help but scoff at the time he was once innocent and naive. He never understood why but, the idea of hope and retribution in the Empire made his skin crawl. He had nothing to prove nor did he need to find solace and a peace of mind. Apollo was innocent, wasn't he? What retribution? Regardless, he found himself chugging beer after beer until he found someone that he could bed and take his mind off of stupid ideals. However, it was short-lived when he was almost forced out of his own inn-keep by his very own handmaiden. Rolling his eyes, he allowed her to yell at him for not returning to the Palace with his so-called family and Apollo could only block out the scolding as he looked upon the Parade that passed through the streets. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the statue of Nadezhda the Lady of Hope. Gritting his teeth, he looked away from the window and never found an ounce of comfort being in Imperium Renata.

Soon, the Ball began and Apollo found himself eyeing many different women and men alike. Who would be his prey tonight? It was only a matter of time he would ditch the ball and head elsewhere. But, as the announcements soon began, he watched as each candidate ascended down the stairs. Being in the midst of the crowd, it was easy to blend in and with the help of his mask, it was even harder for others to recognise him. Apollo merely gave different head nods and "points" to the candidates as they ascended. Hm, I'll give her a 7. Her a 5. Him perhaps a 9. . . . But, after seeing 10 candidates, Apollo got bored after awhile, sighing to himself as his attention was headed towards the drinks being passed around. Grabbing two for himself, Apollo grinned, sly lying through his teeth, "The Lady needs one as well."

However, all jokes and teasing aside, when King Caesar and his family appeared atop of the stairs, Apollo could only narrow his eyes as the introductions were being called. Trying to reign in his anger, Apollo allowed his pride to get in the way, but his jealousy slowly surfaced as he looked away from them, refusing to lower his head as they passed through the crowd. It was only a matter of time that King Caesar made his speech and Apollo could only mutter an insult under his breath. He may have cared for his father, but he was sure as hell still angered by him. But, without further ado, once the music began and the load of bullshit was done, Apollo eyed the Morissettes, looking upon the exotic performers as he remembered of their influence and popularity throughout the Empire. Perhaps he should ask them to be his companion for the night.

As Apollo slipped through the crowd, he recognised one of the candidates and slowly saddled up next to them, sipping his drink, as his other hand held an empty cup. "Quite a party, don't you think? How tedious." He said amusingly before taking another sip of his drink.
 
Eirik
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“Presenting His Royal High-Jarl Stuaresman Eirik Hårold Glockberg of Norreyland” shouted the Royal Herald Messenger. The very tall Norrejyan looked up and started walking trough the doors. People gasped and looked shocked when Eirik walked into the ballroom. His costume was a three pieces suit colored in different kinds of light blue, resembling ice. A golden belt was around his middle with two daggers in a very detailed light blue holster. However, this was not the most shocking part, the rest of his body and face was also painted in the same light blue colors. Eirik wore a mask that looked like ice and scientists had been working on something that turned his eyes into bright blue. The outfit fitted perfectly with personality of Eirik, cold as ice and full of pride. The temperature dropped a few degrees when he entered and there was a cold breeze coming through the open doors.

While enjoying the look at people their faces as he firmly walked to stand with the other candidates Eirik thought about how his journey had been so far. Eirik had traveled with Karland and Karla, twin siblings who were also his personal servants. Karland and Eirik had sailed for two days before they arrived at Imperium Renata. The festivities had been boring a dull. It was mandatory for Eirik to attend them, but he barely spoke to people. In his free time, he was mostly found somewhere in the gardens sparring with Karland. He hadn’t accepted any duel offerings from other candidates because he didn’t want them to give them a taste of his fighting style. Because of this he became known as the lonely duelist. Eirik hadn’t been looking forward to the Masquerade Ball either, the only positive thing was that he could wear the expensive and impressive costume. As he stepped up the stairs, some ice fell out of his hair and beard onto the ground and melted. Eirik had been one of the first candidates to be called so there was a long wait for him.

Eirik looked with his cold eyes to King Caesar and his family, Eirik was ready to take over the Throne from him and rule the Empire with an Iron fist. In Eirik’s opinion, the rule of king Caesar had been weak. Under the rule of the ‘almighty’ king Caesar rebellions had been given the opportunity to grow and refugees of other countries were able to stay at the Imperium Renata. The rebellions had to put down and the refugees where refugees because they were banned people. It was very weird that those refugees got sanctuary at the Imperium Renata. Eirik planned to fix all these mishaps.
After the speech of the King of Kings the ball began officially. Eirik strolled down the stairs and, decided that he would first stand at the side of the dancefloor. For now, Eirik wouldn’t dance, he was going to endure the ball.

Eirik had sent Karla away to fetch a drink for him, while he watched Karlan enjoying the ball. Eirik didn’t notice Apollo until he was standing next to him. Apollo said something about the tediousness of the ball, Eirik couldn’t agree more “Indeed,” he replied with his icy voice “.. people are far to happy, they don’t know what is going on in the real world” In the meantime, Karla had returned with an ice-cold drink for the High-Jarl “Thank you my dear Karla..” he looked at her and gave her a kiss on her hand which left some of the deep blue coloration what had been on his lips “.. if you please, you can go dance, I can manage this tiring ball”

deer deer
 
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