Hobonno
New Member
Looking for a roleplay partner for a 1 on 1 romance between two princes from neighboring kingdoms. BxB, obviously, and we can discuss plot-points as we go.
A soft, warm breeze drifts through the open windows, playing with the curtains and dancing with the many well-dressed guests. A live band plays on a raised platform in the corner, a rotating performance of different instruments but always classical music that fills the large room, though quiet enough for the idle chatter of the nobility. These old tunes leak out of the windows, meeting the ears of the few relaxing outside if for no reason than to enjoy the night. Far off from those couples is one prince, being quite the edgy loner who gazes longingly up at the sky. Beethoven can only keep his attention for so long and he’s far from social enough to want to deal with the idle chatter that inevitably always grows to attempts to manipulate for the purpose of self-gain. Politics are truly exhausting. A light sigh escapes him as the prince moves a flute of champagne to his lips, taking a small sip before slouching a bit more despite the lectures of posture from his mother taunting him in his mind. His eyes fall shut as he relaxes in the evening air, taking slow and steady breaths only to lose that calming moment as a figure bumps into him. He inhales sharply, slamming his hip into the stone balustrade and his hands fumbling a bit with the glass until the contents find their way onto his top, a vest of beautifully embroidered emerald green and a simple white button up. The glass then completes the disastrous scene by slipping from his hand and falling over the ledge, shattering on the stone walkway far below the balcony. Ciaran freezes a bit, slowly comprehending what just happened before looking to his outfit. His mother is going to kill him. “Great, just great” he speaks, venom in his words as he releases a shaky sigh. He moves a hand down to his hip, rubbing the aching spot that will certainly gain a purple coloring before the night is out.
A soft, warm breeze drifts through the open windows, playing with the curtains and dancing with the many well-dressed guests. A live band plays on a raised platform in the corner, a rotating performance of different instruments but always classical music that fills the large room, though quiet enough for the idle chatter of the nobility. These old tunes leak out of the windows, meeting the ears of the few relaxing outside if for no reason than to enjoy the night. Far off from those couples is one prince, being quite the edgy loner who gazes longingly up at the sky. Beethoven can only keep his attention for so long and he’s far from social enough to want to deal with the idle chatter that inevitably always grows to attempts to manipulate for the purpose of self-gain. Politics are truly exhausting. A light sigh escapes him as the prince moves a flute of champagne to his lips, taking a small sip before slouching a bit more despite the lectures of posture from his mother taunting him in his mind. His eyes fall shut as he relaxes in the evening air, taking slow and steady breaths only to lose that calming moment as a figure bumps into him. He inhales sharply, slamming his hip into the stone balustrade and his hands fumbling a bit with the glass until the contents find their way onto his top, a vest of beautifully embroidered emerald green and a simple white button up. The glass then completes the disastrous scene by slipping from his hand and falling over the ledge, shattering on the stone walkway far below the balcony. Ciaran freezes a bit, slowly comprehending what just happened before looking to his outfit. His mother is going to kill him. “Great, just great” he speaks, venom in his words as he releases a shaky sigh. He moves a hand down to his hip, rubbing the aching spot that will certainly gain a purple coloring before the night is out.
